Page 168 of Show Me

Ben hollers something from across the yard. Jake laughs. The conversation around us picks back up.

Ruby is near the porch; shoulder hunched against the cold. I look back at Lindsey and Sam. “I should get going.”

Sam grabs my shoulder. “I’m following your recommendation.”

“Good.” I feel a pang of sympathy for her, but Sam is making the right decision. He’s not interested in a long-term relationship, and Lindsey would get the wrong idea if they continue spending time together.

Lindsey smiles brightly. “I hope you can find time to join Travis on my job. I’d love to catch up sometime. at the job.”

“Right.” I walk toward the porch. No hesitation. No looking, turning back.

Clearly, Lindsey cannot read a room, or she’d know I have no intention of working on her renovation project, and Sam is about to tell her he’s not interested in seeing her again.

Not my concern. Not my problem.

Interlude

The Watcher

Cold settles differently as the sun lowers on the horizon. Sharper. The smell of burning leaves drifts across the neighboring fields, carried on a breeze that rattles bare branches overhead.

Voices rise and fall beyond the fence line. Laughter. Someone arguing over football. A ball cuts through the gray afternoon, followed by groans when it slips through waiting hands.

From the shelter of the trees, the yard stretches wide. People everywhere. Moving. Talking. Coats pulled tighter against the cold. Steam curls from mugs held in gloved hands.

The truck waits near the end of the drive. Unmoving. The watcher moves farther behind the trunk of an old oak.

Far enough to stay hidden. Close enough to watch. The crowd begins to thin. Goodbyes linger. Hugs. Hands lifted in farewell.

The front door opens again. The woman steps onto the porch. The man follows a moment later. No words. No reaching for each other.

They don’t have to. The space between them says enough. His attention sweeps the yard once. Habit. Not enough. Never enough.

They head toward the truck. She climbs in first. He circles the hood, one last glance toward the house before disappearing inside.

The engine starts. Headlights sweep across the trees. Across the fence. Across empty ground. Then they’re gone.

Silence settles over the property. More vehicles leave. More voices disappear. The football is forgotten in the grass. The smell of smoke lingers.

The watcher remains. Patient. Watching until the last porch light clicks off. Knowing there will be another chance. There always is.

Chapter Eighty-Nine

Ruby

The gravel crunches under Xavier’s tires as we pull into my driveway. Neither of us moves. The porch light spills across the yard, catching the fence line, the pig pen beyond it. No movement. No shapes where there shouldn’t be.

“Everything looks good,” Xavier says.

“Don’t say that.” I shudder at the words. He’s right, but it doesn’t ever stop the feeling of being on edge. And it feels like we’re tempting fate when we say anything out loud.

Squirt comes barreling toward us the second we open the backdoor, hooves thudding unevenly across the floor. He nudges hard into my leg, grunting, already searching for food.

“Hey,” I laugh, bracing myself as I step out of the way, letting him join us in the yard. “You’re going to knock me over.”

He pushes again, insistent, damp snout rooting at my jacket pocket.

“You spoil that pig,” Xavier says.