Somewhere Along the Way

by Jodi Thomas

  Tyler wasn’t like Dan Reeves. He’d never threatened anyone in his life. So he thought up another plan. Maybe if he offered Lloyd work, at least until he got a regular job, it would help.

  With determination, he got out of his car and walked up the steps to the Franklins’ front door. Little Lady put her paws on the window and watched from the backseat. For once she didn’t look like she wanted to come with him.

  Lloyd answered on the third knock. “Tyler Wright,” he said. “I remember you. You were a few years behind me in school. Didn’t go out for football, did you? I seem to remember you played in the band.” He laughed as if he’d told himself a joke no one else would understand.

  “Drums,” Tyler said, surprised Lloyd remembered him. Even in a town as small as Harmony, it was unlikely their paths would cross often. “Lloyd, how are you?”

  “I’m doing just fine. Thanks for stopping by to ask.” Lloyd laughed, knowing this was not a social call. “My wife forget to pay you for the last burial?”

  Tyler knew Edith had paid him out of her tip money because the envelope had mostly one-dollar bills in it. “No,” he said, “I just came by to ask you a favor. The guy who handles my backhoe at the cemetery is down with his back. Doctor in Lubbock says he may have to have surgery. I was wondering if you’d like the job. It’d only be temporary, and I’d understand if you quit when you got a full-time job.”

  Lloyd looked like Tyler might be trying to trick him. “Why would you be offering me a job? I barely remember you.”

  Tyler had already prepared a lie for this question. “I didn’t expect you to remember me. I was just a sophomore the year you were a senior and took us to state finals. You were a hero to the team.”

  Lloyd’s yellow smile crossed his face. “That’s right. I could fly that year.”

  Tyler knew the rest of the football story. He lost his scholarship before Halloween his freshman year in college for fighting in the locker room. Some said he would have been gone in a few months anyway because Lloyd never considered going to class a priority. “You were fun to watch. We almost won that year. After you left we were three and eight my junior year and four and seven my senior year. Nothing to brag about those years.”

  Lloyd nodded, taking all the credit. “Look, pal,” he said in a friendlier tone than before. “I’d like to help you out, but I got this project with my cousin going that might pay off big.”

  Tyler tried to act like he was disappointed. “I understand.” Maybe Lloyd did have some other work. Maybe his and Edith’s hard times were over. “Thanks for listening.”

  Lloyd closed the screen door. “Anytime.”

  Tyler backed down the steps and climbed into his car. He still had forty-five minutes before he needed to pick up Mrs. Biggs. He wanted to drive a few miles farther down the road, past the Truman place and the Matheson ranch.

  He’d heard that two hundred years ago there had been a Spanish hacienda near the river. The men had come up from Mexico long before the fort line formed to protect settlers and set up a ranch. Legend was, the Mexicans had made a treaty with the Apache and Comanche in the area. They were allowed to live in peace and raise sheep for the price of a dozen head a year. If the rumors were true, maybe he could walk the river’s edge and see some sign of where the stucco buildings would have been. If the wagon ruts still existed at the Washington-on-the-Brazos where men hid out in 1835 to write the Texas constitution, maybe there would be some signs leading from the river to what had once been a small ranch.

  For Tyler, this exploring was high adventure.

  Ten miles past the Matheson place, he turned off on a dirt road and found a spot where he could drive to within a couple hundred yards of the river. Tyler didn’t get out of his car. Clouds had gathered above, making the day seem colder with the sun blocked. He needed to get back to Mrs. Biggs. Tomorrow he’d try his luck again. The trail had waited two hundred years. It would wait a little longer.

  He drove back thinking what a find it would be if there was still part of the foundation or better yet, one side of a wall.

  When he picked up Mrs. Biggs, she seemed ready. He drove her back to the bed-and-breakfast, then went home to his quarters over the funeral home. He thought of his place as an apartment, built by his grandfather, but in truth his living quarters held five bedrooms, three baths, a kitchen with an elevator for bringing up supplies, a dining room to seat a dozen, and a game room he’d converted into a TV room. More than three thousand square feet for one person.

  Tyler went upstairs, changed his sweater for a suit jacket, and went back downstairs to his office to catch up on paperwork and wait until five before e-mailing Kate. There were no funerals today, no one lying in state, and no calls, but he would be ready if someone walked in. He believed in being dressed and ready to work all day. When the day ended at five, he relaxed, sometimes had a glass of milk, and put back on his sweater. Then, every night, he opened his e-mail.

  He was like an alcoholic who didn’t think he was a drunk because he only drank in the evening. He might have been e-mailing the same person for two years without an answer, but he wasn’t obsessed unless he e-mailed early.

  Evening, Kate, hope the weather’s better where you are. I wonder if all people feel as lost on Mondays as I do. It’s the only day of the week I don’t usually have a plan for. I just have to wait and see what happens. I don’t have any family to have dinner with, which from what I see of some families that could be a blessing. I’ve never liked football so the game on Monday never interests me, but I’ll check the scores at news time because in Texas, if you don’t follow football you’re considered a talking form of plant life. Even the vegetarians will eat you alive.

  He laughed at his own joke and signed off.

  Chapter 39

  WEDNESDAY EVENING

  FEBRUARY 20, 2008

  LEARY FARM

  GABE WALKED HIS LAND AT SUNSET. THE COLD WIND BLEW hard from the north, whispering another round of snow, but he barely noticed. He needed to think. For four years he’d held himself away from people. He’d made a life alone and he was comfortable. Maybe not happy, but comfortable. He had his work and Pirate to keep him company. Happiness wasn’t something he thought much about.

  Denver, on one of his general rants, had told him to think about what he wanted. Gabe had never done that. It seemed he’d lived his whole life reacting to what he didn’t want to happen. He didn’t want his father to beat him. He didn’t want to starve on the streets. He didn’t want to die.

  Pulling his hood up against the wind, Gabe tried to think of one thing he did want. His feet turned toward town, but ten yards later he shifted direction and headed toward the barn and his Land Rover. He wanted to see Elizabeth, and it would take too long to walk. Maybe he’d just stand outside her office or maybe he’d tap on the door and offer to answer a question. He didn’t care. He just had to see her.

  Reason told him he could also drop by the sheriff’s office and see if there had been any more Smith break-ins. Alex had shared two meals with him last week; surely she’d talk to him. He couldn’t remember if Elizabeth had mentioned that his pen name was Smith, but he’d tell Alex that fact. He wasn’t ashamed of his writing; he just liked to keep everything in its place. His life—correction: his lives—had always been in compartments. Here, in Harmony, he was Gabe Leary. In his work he was G. L. Smith. In his nightmare he was still Wiseman, running with a lie, fighting to stay alive.

  Winter seemed like a recurring cough this year, blowing in snow and frost every few days, but tonight Gabe could feel the temperature plummeting. If he didn’t take this chance to see Elizabeth, it might be a few days before he could get into town if snow started to pile up.

  His uninvited houseguest, Denver Sims, had left before supper, saying he wanted to go into town for a while. He lived his life around strangers and didn’t handle the silence of Gabe’s house well. Gabe gave him directions to the little mall and knew he was there by now downing fast food.

 
; In the morning he’d complain about the few thousand calories he’d downed wrapped in fat. He’d put on his running shoes and head for the pavement of the main road. An hour later he’d return exhausted and starving for a hamburger before he went through the machines in the basement. Denver was on a vicious cycle interrupted only occasionally by a salad.

  They still maintained a security watch, but both finally agreed that the shot that almost killed the dog had probably been just what the sheriff said it was. Kids driving by looking for coyotes.

  Gabe parked his Land Rover in the back parking lot beside Elizabeth’s sports car and bound up the steps. He didn’t even bother to check his mail before he tapped on her door.

  No answer.

  He tapped again. It couldn’t be much after seven. Where could she be on an icy Wednesday night? The few minutes they’d shared Sunday night behind the swinging door seemed a lifetime ago. He’d wanted a real kiss, but she’d been giggly, complaining that her family was only a door away. Finally, they’d struck a bargain. One kiss, then they’d join the others. At the time he thought there would be another time alone before the night ended, but the party was over without them even hugging.

  Reason told him if her car was parked, she couldn’t be far away. He checked the used bookstore downstairs. A dozen ladies were circled around knitting. They clutched their yarn to their chests and looked up at him as if he might be an armed robber when he stormed in.

  The bookstore owner stood from behind the counter and pointed with his open book. “We’re closed unless you’ve come to knit.”

  Gabe backed out without a word.

  He climbed into his car, circled around to the town square, and began driving slowly around it, glancing in the few stores still open. Most were empty except for employees.

  At the second corner he glanced left and saw the light of the Blue Moon Diner. The sound of country-western music from the bar across the street drifted in even with the windows of his car closed. He had a feeling she’d be one place or the other.

  He parked in an empty spot near the diner and tried the bar first. The only people sitting around looked like the leftovers from the original Dating Game. Most were drinking alone, waiting for closing time, when they’d all turn pretty and hook up.

  Gabe decided he’d go back to the knitters before he stayed here. Outside he took a deep breath of fresh air and headed across the street.

  When he walked into the Blue Moon, he was surprised to see Reagan sitting at the counter, her crutches beside her.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked as he shoved his hood off.

  “I could say I came to make sure you had takeout, but look at you. You walked in the front door. I’m proud of you.” She lifted her arms, and he had no choice but to lean down and let her hug him. The kid reminded him of a puppy he’d let in from the cold, and now she thought they were best friends.

  Gabe wanted to tell her that he wasn’t the hugging kind, but he couldn’t hurt her feelings.

  She started to get up. “The place is closed, but I haven’t emptied the coffeepot yet.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re working here?”

  Reagan laughed. “No. Today was my at-home nurse’s last day. She brought me in a few hours ago for a checkup. Uncle Jeremiah was supposed to pick me up at the hospital, but he doesn’t seem to have any telling-time brain cells left. Next I guess it will be the days of the week or month then finally night and day. When he was late I called to remind him of the time and asked Mary to bring me by here so I could see how Edith’s doing.”

  “She been sick?” Gabe moved behind the counter and poured his own cup of coffee.

  Reagan looked at him. Ancient eyes, he thought, a hundred lifetimes old. She might be eighteen in years here, but she saw more than most people five times her age. “She’s heartsick,” the girl began. She didn’t have to say more. Gabe knew what she meant.

  “Where is she?”

  “A few minutes after I got dropped off, she got a call from her husband. He was at the hospital. His brother found him on the floor of their trailer throwing up and flopping like a ‘dock fish.’ His words, not mine.” Reagan giggled. “I can kind of picture it in my head, though.”

  Gabe fought down a grin.

  “Anyway,” Reagan continued, “the brother brought him in. Doctors pumped his stomach and told him he had food poisoning. Edith told me, as she packed up her things, that he was so weak she could barely hear him when he called.”

  Gabe looked up from stealing two cookies out of the display case. “Good,” he said slowly, knowing Reagan was following his thoughts. Weak men don’t beat their wives. “Any chance Lloyd might die?”

  “No. The hospital is releasing him as soon as Edith gets there.” She looked down at her cast covered in purple and pink writing, then met his eyes again. “Something’s wrong with Lloyd. Something’s mixed up in his head. It scares me a little sometimes. I told Edith she should leave him, but I think she’s afraid of what he’d do. I even said she could come out to the farm and stay with Uncle Jeremiah and me, but she didn’t look like she believed me.” Reagan twisted her hands.

  “What else is bothering you, Reagan?” He took the stool beside her and gave her his full attention.

  “Maybe it’s nothing, but Lloyd comes in here sometimes when I’m covering for Edith, like he doesn’t know she’s home sick. When I tell him, he doesn’t seem in any hurry to leave. He kind of hangs around like he’s flirting or something. He orders things that aren’t on the menu and makes jokes about how I should leave him a tip.” She twisted her fingers together. “Gabe, I try to be nice to him, but he’s old, and creepy and dumb and doesn’t bathe regularly. I don’t even want to look at him, much less talk to him. Last time he stopped by he laughed and said as soon as I was eighteen he’d take me across the street dancing.” She made a face as if she’d tasted something rotten. “The way he said it . . . it was like he thought we were friends.”

  Gabe figured the guy was close to being in his midforties, which made him a pervert to be trying to flirt with Reagan. “Does he make you feel uncomfortable with how he talks to you?”

  “Major.” She laughed. “Like maybe-I-should-bring-that-birthday-present-you-and-Denver-gave-me-to-work uncomfortable.”

  “Are you going to work Edith’s shift again?”

  She shrugged. “Probably. She needs a night off and I think she picks Wednesday because it’s the slowest night. Fewer tips. When I get this cast off in another month or so, I’ll cover for her again, but I’m thinking of telling her to keep her creepy husband home.”

  “How about I come in for coffee and stay awhile?”

  “Great. He usually leaves if there is anyone else around.” Reagan smiled. “I’m probably overreacting, but if you could drop by it would mean a lot. Brandon Biggs will probably stop by too. When he does, he’ll stay until closing if I ask him.”

  “Do you trust that kid?”

  Reagan laughed. “Sure. I’ve already beat him up once. He’s half afraid of me.”

  “As long as you’re not here alone. Don’t worry about Lloyd. He probably still sees himself as the big football star who almost took Harmony to state.” Gabe saw her relax and wondered how long she’d been waiting to tell someone her feelings about the guy. He changed the subject. “By the way, I know a Mrs. Biggs who works over at the B&B. Any chance this friend Brandon is related to her?”

  “No, you’re the second person who’s mentioned it, but Brandon said he only has a little brother. His mother has married a half dozen times since Brandon’s father died ten years ago. He says she’s going to have to start using the phone book to find a name she hasn’t married.”

  “If this Mrs. Biggs over at Winter’s Inn were related to him, he’d claim her. She’s a nice lady.”

  A pickup pulled up and left its lights shining on bright.

  “That’s my uncle,” she said standing. “Would you lock up?”

  “Sure,” Gabe said, thinking he knew
where Cass kept an extra kitchen key out back over the yard light. Once in a while, just out of boredom, he’d slipped in and sat in the dark watching the town from the windows of the diner.

  She tugged on a coat that swallowed her in puffiness. “And turn off the coffeepot and the lights.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” She was trying to mother him now, and they both knew it.

  With her crutches under her arms, she faced him. “Gabe, I know you’re a lot older than me and I don’t want you to think it’s a boy-girl thing, but I think you should know something. I love you. I think maybe you’re my guardian angel.”

  He almost choked on his cookie.

  She laughed. “You and me don’t have much family around this place, where everyone else has relatives packed by the dozens. So from now on, I’ve decided you’re part of my family. . . .” She hesitated, looking very young. “If it’s all right with you?”

  “It’s all right with me,” he managed. No one in his life had ever said those words to him, and he had a feeling no one had ever said them to her.

  She hobbled to the door before he found his voice. “Hey, kid,” he managed. “I love you too.”

  She grinned. “I know.” She smiled. “Thanks for saying it, though. Oh, I almost forgot. If you’re looking for Liz, she’s at Martha Q’s place. She was in here buying a pie when I came in. I heard her tell Edith that if she saw you tonight to tell you where she was.”

  “How’d you know I was looking for her?”

  Reagan shrugged. “I’m an adult now. I guess I got woman’s intuition. Besides, I watch people and you make her blush just by looking at her.”

  “I’m not the type of man she needs.” He said his thoughts.

  “Maybe not”—Reagan opened the door—“but she might be the kind of woman you need.”

  She was out the door before he could think of anything to say.

  Truman had climbed out of his pickup and was waiting for her. He helped her in with great care.