“No, buddy… this place is where Fate comes to die,” she said hoarsely, looking stunned. “This is not a town, it’s a lost cause…”
“Now there are several people who would disagree with you…”
“Because they’re inbred? Do you hear banjos? How are you going to get me shoes in a barely-there town that probably doesn’t even wear shoes? I didn’t know that there were hillbilly communities that still existed like this. I thought it was people in the backwoods of Appalachia that…”
“I think you’ve said enough,” Jack interrupted, frowning at her. “If you are looking for help or a moment to catch your breath, it would probably be best not to insult the people who are blindly willing to help you out of the goodness of their hearts.”
“Like you – helping yourself to my shoe?”
He put the cruiser in park, turned it off, and got out. Plastering a congenial smile on his face, he moved to open the passenger door, knowing that several sets of eyes would be on him –them. As Heidi stood up, he whispered underhis breath to her, hoping she understood what he was trying to say as politely as possible.
“Some people have a lot less than you –yes– but they are kind enough to offer the help that you currently and so desperately need… so please, be kind.”
“You realize this place is barely a blip on a map,” she whispered back to him, smiling politely and nodding like they were having some grand conversation. He felt a bit of relief that she was playing along for the moment, fighting the urge to lean in and kiss the woman senseless. Yes, he liked a bit of sass in a woman, but she certainly pushed the edge of what was tolerable, making him wonder if he could actually handle someone as strong as her… or if this was a fanciful mistake on his part.
Maybe I’m wrong about fate or destiny…
“Let’s go,” he gestured – and reached out to grab her elbow before she stepped in the old drain that ran along the sidewalk. It was an old wrought iron one that was rusted but still incredibly pretty with ‘Fate’ written in the bars like something out of vintage Hollywood. That silly grate was probably as old as the town that had been founded in 1840, built on hopes and dreams… and Heidi was right.
Many ‘fates’ had died in this town over the years.
“Let go of me…”
“You don’t need to add ‘Tetanus’ to your list of grievances against me.”
She looked down at the grate, looked at her elbow, and then met his eyes. He heard her swallow, felt his heart skip a beat, as he stared into the most glorious brown eyes he’d ever seen. They reminded him of old-fashioned caramel that you’d dip crisp apples in – deep, rich, warm…
“Get off me, you cretin.”
And sour,he thought silently, releasing her elbow and shaking his head as she stomped off – onesneaker and one bare foot as regal as the queen of England.Maybe they were sour, tart, and distinctly bitter apples… or maybe she just needs the right man to sweeten her up?
He thought with a wide grin, watching her.
The door opened with a bell, and she walked inside, which spurred him forward to join her, enjoying this whole adventure with a relish that wasn’t hard to pinpoint where it was coming from. She was definitely not what he had imagined when he woke up this morning… There was a bit of excitement to this woman that set his heart pounding, which he was quite enjoying.
“She’s my spicy little Heidi – a bit of sweetness with a whole lot of bite,” he chuckled in quiet delight, hoping that she hung around town for a while.
Three
HEIDI
This place was Hell.
No flames or pitchforks required.
Heidi was trapped justlike Persephone, who was trying to run away from Hades and couldn’t get free. That was her. Same thing, different people. Fate might not be underground like the mythology played out, but it felt suffocating just the same.Let me outta here before I’m stuck, she thought as she shoved a finger in her ear, shaking it deliberately because she couldn’t believe the words that woman just uttered to her. Surely not - no one in the twenty-first century would ever utter those words aloud… would they?
“Excuse me – one more time,” Heidi started, slapping on a smarmy smile on her face as she met the woman’s eyes once more. Maybe it was something in the water; hopefully, it wasn’t in the air, because she had no intention of sticking around long. This place was like the LaBrea Tar Pits of Texas – it sucked you in, dragged you down, giving you theillusion of escape while it killed all your hopes and dreams slowly…
*ping*
Spot on accurate,she thought silently.
“Sweet Pea, I’ve got some rubber jellies and a pair of steel-toe work boots in your size, but that’s it,” the old woman smiled at her. “Now, if you need some of them fancy Bush’s Baked Beans, or looking for some of Maw’s pickled okra, that I’ve got in spades. Henry won’t get the next order in for another week or two and…”
“Did you say, ‘pickled okra’?”
“Sure did – it’s the best thing besides her pickled eggs, now those are a gift from heaven and…”
