by Cheree Alsop
“The hay truck!” Cassidy said.
I watched her run across the yard to the ton truck loaded with bales to take to a dairy farm on the opposite side of Sparrow. A smile crossed my face as she drove it over.
She backed it underneath where I stood, then climbed out. “Easy as pie,” she called up. “Just roll when you land.”
I knew rolling on bales of packed hay wasn’t going to be as soft as she was imagining, but it sure beat the cement that waited if I fell climbing down the rope. I studied the distance between me and the bales. It looked a lot farther than I wished it was.
“Here goes nothing.” I launched myself away from the barn. One side of me noted that nothing good had ever happened to me when the barn was involved. The other side swore at the fact that the hay bales were rapidly coming closer.
I landed with my knees bent and rolled across my left shoulder. The hay poked through my shirt and stabbed at the knife wound, but when I rose, I was grateful that was the worst of my pain.
“Good thinkin’, Cass,” Uncle Rick said, patting her on the shoulder.
“Yeah, thanks,” I told her as I climbed across the bales and jumped down. It felt good to have my feet on the ground again.
To my surprise, Cole ran over and threw his arms around me. I dropped to one knee and hugged him back. His thin frame was shaking. “It’s okay,” I told him. “You’re safe.”
“Thank you,” he said.
I looked over his head at Uncle Rick and Cassidy. Uncle Rick nodded. “Thank you.”
“Glad to help,” I replied. Cole stepped back and I rose to my feet. “Next time you feel like being a monkey, climb a tree instead of a barn,” I suggested.
“I will,” he said. He took off toward the house.
Uncle Rick shook his head. “I don’t know where he comes up with his ideas.”
“Maybe he’ll slow down a bit now,” I replied.
Cassidy shook her head. “Not likely.”
I HEADED TO THE junkyard and was helping Jagger move car frames with the four-wheeler when my cell phone rang.
“Are you coming over or what?”
I looked at the phone again just to be sure who I was talking to. “Uh, why are you calling me, Mr. West?”
“Masey is bringing Maddy home for the Spring Festival. You’d better get here if you want to show her what you’ve done,” he replied in a tone that told me he hated stating the obvious.
“I’ll be right there,” I said. Mr. West hung up before I had even finished talking. I shoved the phone in my pocket.
“Who was et?” Jagger asked. “Yer girl?” He waggled his eyebrows up and down.
I laughed. “My girl’s dad. He wants me to come over so I can show her the bedroom I painted, though I think he would rather I jump off a cliff.”
Jagger laughed. “Well, seein’s ‘ow there ain’t no cliffs around, ya might as well head over.”
I took off my gloves and set them on the porch of the little shack. Mick wagged his tail when I patted his head. Jagger looked around and gave a nod of approval. “This place is cleanin’ up right nice.”
“I thought you only needed to find your door,” I pointed out.
He nodded. “Yeah, but I’m gettin’ used ta things lookin’ a bit more tidy-like.”
I smiled. “I’m glad someone appreciates it.”
He tipped his head toward the motorcycle. “Maybe ya should take Maddy for a drive.”
I had been about to climb on the four-wheeler, but the idea appealed to me. Madelyn liked the motorcycle, and it had been a long time since we had ridden together. “Good idea,” I replied. I shoved my Black Rider gear into my backpack, strapped Magnum’s spare helmet on the back, and started the engine. I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face at the sound.
“Nothin’ like a well-workin’ machine,” Jagger said.
“As long as it’s a bike and not a tractor,” I replied.
He laughed. “Ya just ‘aven’t driven the right tractor,” he said.
I chuckled as I drove the motorcycle up the dirt road. Despite the fact that I was heading toward Mr. West’s inevitably unwelcome reception, the thought of seeing Madelyn again kept a grin on my face.
Mr. West eyed my motorcycle in the driveway. “Have you given up any attempt to be stealthy?”
I shrugged. “I drove here from the junkyard. There aren’t too many people looking for the Black Rider there.”
He rolled his eyes and pushed the door open so I could enter. I stood uncomfortably in the living room. Though it looked beautiful and bright with the new colors, I couldn’t help a pang of loss at the thought of the way Mrs. West had managed to light it up with just her happy smile. The impressions where her wheelchair used to rest were still there in the carpet, despite numerous attempts to vacuum them out.
Mr. West cleared his throat from the kitchen. “You might as well grab a bite to eat. Knowing Masey, they’ll be later than she said. That woman drives slower than a turtle in tar.”
I made my way cautiously to the kitchen. I was surprised to see Mr. West sit at the table and take a bite of a sandwich, with another sandwich sitting on a plate across from him.
“Hope you like Spam,” he said.
“I do,” I replied. I sat down and picked up the sandwich. I took a bite. “This is really good.”
Mr. West gave a noncommittal grunt.
“Aunt Lauren makes Uncle Rick Spam sandwiches when he drives the cattle. He says there’s nothing better after sitting in the saddle all day.”
Mr. West was silent for a few minutes before he said, “How’s that little calf doing?”
“Fine,” I replied. I searched for something interesting to say and settled for, “Uncle Rick’s not sure why I bought a bull calf.” I gave an embarrassed grin. “I didn’t think to check if it was a bull when I bought it.”
“Most dairies don’t like to sell their heifers. You probably would only have been able to buy a bull,” Mr. West commented.
I nodded. “Good to know.”
Silence fell between us again. After several uncomfortable minutes, I asked, “So, uh, what do you do?”
Mr. West gave me a bland look. “What do you mean?”
“I was just wondering what you did for a job. You’re home all the time and I’ve never thought about it before,” I said, suddenly curious.
“I work for the FBI.”
My heart skipped a beat.
A smile actually broke out across Mr. West’s face. “Not really, but it was worth seeing your expression.”
I shook my head. “That’s really not funny.”
“It was,” he replied with a nod. “You’ll laugh later.” He opened a hand. “I’m an editor for a publishing company based out of New York. We used to live there, but moved here because Mindy wanted to raise our daughter in the country and I could work from home.”
“Sparrow is a long way from New York,” I said in surprise.
He nodded. “Tell me about it. Sometimes I miss the sound of traffic.”
I smiled. “I know what you mean. I used to wake up at night and feel lost because I didn’t hear police sirens and horns honking. It’s funny, the things you get used to.”
Mr. West tipped his head toward the kitchen window. “If we moved back, I think I’d actually miss the crickets at night.”
“Me too.” I remembered something Jaren told me. “Did you know you can tell the temperature from how many times they chirp?”
“You don’t say,” Mr. West replied. “How’s that?”
“You count how many times a cricket chirps in fifteen seconds, then add thirty-eight to it and it should give you a number pretty close to the real temperature outside.”
“Not much help in the winter,” Mr. West noted, “but I’ll have to try that next time.”
The sound of tires made us stand. We exchanged sheepish smiles. “Thanks for the sandwich,” I said.
“You’re welcome,” Mr. West replied. He hesitated, then said,
“You’re not a bad kid, Kelson. I just worry about Maddy.”
“Me too,” I told him sincerely as we crossed through the living room. “I promise I’ll be careful when I’m with her.”
“I appreciate that.”
He pulled open the front door and we both stepped onto the porch. Madelyn and her Aunt Masey were climbing out of the car.
“Well, that’s something I didn’t expect to see,” Aunt Masey said with a smile.
Madelyn hurried up the steps. She gave her dad a big hug first, then threw her arms around me. “I’m so glad you’re here!” she exclaimed. She continued in an undertone while her dad helped Masey with her luggage, “Is everything all right?”
“It’s more than all right,” I answered. “Come see.”
I could feel Madelyn’s trepidation grow as we walked up the stairs toward her room. I couldn’t blame her. She had gone through things no girl should have to. I could only hope what Cassidy and I had done was enough to chase her fears away.
“Trust me,” I whispered.
A small smile touched her mouth.
I pushed the door open.
Madelyn gasped. She stepped inside, her eyes wide as she looked around.
“You did this?” she asked in awe.
“Cassidy helped me, and your dad.”
“Kelson did most of it,” Mr. West put in at the door.
I looked at him in surprise. He was watching his daughter with a smile on his face at her obvious amazement. “He wanted to give you a sanctuary to come home to.”
“Can I come home?” Madelyn asked, spinning to face her father.
He hesitated, then nodded.
She threw her arms around him. “Thank you. Thank you so much!”
“I’ve missed having you here,” Mr. West said quietly as he returned the hug. “It’s not home without you.”
She stepped back and looked around. “This is amazing!” She touched a yellow wall, then walked over to her bed. She gave me an assessing look. “Did you pick out all the pillows?”
I laughed. “It was mostly Cassidy. I told her I wanted it to look like a sunrise in here.”
She picked up one of the red-and-orange pillows and hugged it to her chest. “Kelson, this is absolutely amazing. I never would have dreamed it could be such a different place than . . .”
“Than the past that’s far behind us,” I completed. “This is your room, Maddy, your very own.”
“I put a lock on the door,” Mr. West put in. He pointed to the extra-heavy bolt lock he had installed. “You can keep it locked whenever you want. I put a lock on the window, too.” He gave me a flat look that said he suspected my visits through that unseemly entryway.
“Thank you so much,” Madelyn said. She gave her dad another hug, then hugged me as well. “I can’t believe it. It’s wonderful!”
“Kelson deserves the credit,” Mr. West told her. He surprised me with a grateful smile. “He’s a very thoughtful boyfriend.”
We both stared at him. He shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “I, uh, have some work to do. I assume you two can take care of yourselves.”
I stopped him before he could leave. “Mr. West? I’d like your permission to take Maddy for a ride on my motorcycle.”
He looked from me to his daughter. “Is that something you like to do?”
She nodded quickly. “Very much.”
He eyed me narrowly. “Will you both wear helmets?”
“Always, sir,” I replied.
He finally nodded. “Very well. Be careful. The traffic out here usually has four legs instead of wheels.”
“Understood,” I said, shocked that he had agreed.
As soon as Mr. West left, Madelyn gave a little squeak and hugged me again. She then surprised me by kissing me soundly.
“What was that for?” I asked when she stepped back with a slight blush coloring her cheeks.
“First, that I missed you, and second, that you did this.” She looked around at her room. “I can’t believe it. It’s just so different, and it’s exactly what I needed. Thank you so much!”
“I love you, my Maddy.”
She smiled and melted into my arms. “I love you, Kelson.”
I led her down the stairs and felt Mr. West’s eyes on us as we made our way outside. The setting sun lit the farmland in shades of gold and ruby. I took a deep breath of the alfalfa-scented air.
“I’ve missed being here,” Madelyn said quietly.
“I’ve missed having you here,” I replied.
She smiled and slipped her hand into mine as we walked to the motorcycle. “I’ve missed riding. I’m glad you brought your motorcycle.”
“It was Jagger’s idea,” I told her.
She gave me a surprised look. “That was very thoughtful of him.”
I climbed onto the bike. “Sometimes that man surprises me.”
She laughed and climbed on back. I handed her the helmet and slipped mine on while she got hers settled. I turned to help her with the chinstrap, but she already had it fastened.
“Ready to go,” she said with an excited twinkle in her hazel eyes.
I laughed and started the engine. She wrapped her arms around my waist and I pulled out of the driveway.
SUNSET CAPTURED US IN rays of gold and violet. The mountains in the distance took on cloaks of dark blue. The hum of the wheels on the road and the feeling of Madelyn pressed against my back made it the most perfect night I could remember. We crossed through Sparrow and continued into the evening, a dark shadow in flight among those darker still. I felt invincible and happy. The smile that refused to leave my face filled me with joy.
Madelyn patted my shoulder. I turned down the road she indicated. The little traffic we had seen faded far behind us as we took the country lane. The occasional rabbit sat up on oversized feet to watch us pass. Madelyn gave a little laugh when the roar of our engine surprised several horses in a pasture. They raced ahead of us, turning at the last minute to follow the stretch of fence that confined them.
I loved them for their wild ways, for the sleek muscles that pulled taut beneath their skin as their legs ate away the ground beneath their hooves. In that moment, I realized how much I had come to respect the place of animals in the lives of the people of Sparrow. It was a beautiful circle, give and take, trust and beauty. The animals needed their people and the opposite was also true. I couldn’t picture Uncle Rick driving his blue truck without Jake in the back, or Jagger without yappy Mick prancing around his feet.
I laughed at the thought that I would actually miss milking Barbecue if the black cow was gone.
“What?” Madelyn asked above the rush of pavement and wind.
“Just thinking about how much the farm life has gotten to me,” I replied.
I felt her laugh behind me. “I told you farming would be good for you,” she replied.
“I think you were right,” I said. Her hold tightened and I smiled.
The road felt like it would go on forever, dusty pavement that met the dusky sky hung with diamond stars and a half moon that glowed proudly over all it surveyed. I pushed my tinted visor up so I could see it better. The land rolled with soft gray edges to the black, protective forms of the mountains. It was breathtaking.
A bug flew in my mouth. I coughed and spit it back out.
“You all right?” Madelyn asked.
“Just reminding myself why helmets have visors,” I replied, pulling it back down.
She laughed and hugged me tight from behind. I smiled and patted her hand before gripping the handlebars again. The night was beautiful even with the visor down, and less aggressive.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I let out an accepting breath and slowed down. I pulled to a stop near a bend in the road and shut off the engine.
“Sorry. This’ll only take a minute,” I apologized to Madelyn.
I flipped the phone open.
“Black Rider?”
“Yeah?”
“This is Greg, from the Horses
hoe. You’ve got to get over here.”
A tremor ran down my spine at the fear in his voice. “What’s going on?”
“The copycats lit the library on fire. I can see them in the windows—I think they’re waiting for you.”
I swore under my breath. “Is anyone inside?”
“Some people ran out, but I think Ms. Tillman, the librarian, is still in there. I’ll ask around to see if anyone’s seen her.”
“I’ll be right there,” I told him.
I hung up and looked at Madelyn.
“I’m coming with you,” she said, having overheard the conversation.
“It’s too dangerous.”
“You don’t have time to run me back home,” she pointed out. “I’ll be careful; I promise. They need you.”
I nodded and started the motorcycle. The ride back to town was a blur of black and gray. We made it in a quarter of the time our leisurely ride had taken, but the flames of the town library already lit up the sky. I parked the motorcycle near the edge of the building and pulled on my gear.
“I’ll be right here when you get back,” Madelyn vowed, her gaze wide as she watched the fire.
I ran to the building. Firemen were preparing their hoses. I recognized the fire chief from the fire at Magnum’s. “I was told there’re people inside,” I said.
He motioned. “We’ve seen some of your copycat riders in there, but we don’t know if there are any civilians still left inside. A team just went through the back.”
“I’m going in.”
“You shouldn’t,” the fire chief replied. “I think they set this for you.”
“If it’s a trap, I’d better be the one to spring it,” I answered. “I don’t want anyone else hurt.”
“I have your back,” the fire chief said. He hefted an axe over his shoulder and motioned for two other firemen. “Protect the Black Rider.”
“Got it, Chief,” they replied.
We ran to the door.
Smoke billowed out when I pulled it open. I ducked inside and looked around quickly.
“Over there,” one of the firemen called through his oxygen mask.
Two forms ghosted through the shadows. I ran toward them. A body hit me with enough strength to flatten a bear. I crashed into the wall and came up swinging. I hit my attacker in the stomach, followed by a punch to his helmet that bruised my knuckles but no doubt left him dazed. One of the firemen grabbed him from behind. I kneed the copycat in the groin, then slammed my elbow into the side of his helmet. He fell to the floor.