Page 5 of Where Roads Lead

Crossing the street, I switched my stride to a jog as I saw her about to head into the café. Wanting to have a conversation with her without the ears of half the town listening, I knew I had to catch her before she went through that door.

“Can I help you?” I asked, causing her to startle.

She turned, staring up at me with surprise, and I took the moment to zero in on the details of her. Freckles. Messily braided hair. The dark hint of purple under her eyes indicating that she was probably in need of a good night’s sleep.

She was younger than I had thought. It was rare for people to move into Colbridge. Rarer still for the ones who did to be any younger than forty. We didn’t have a ton of vacancies here to begin with. People tended to settle in and, well…never really leave.

Mr. Briggs’s place had been the single listing on the market for months, and now, here was the new occupant standing before me. All wide green eyes and a bewildered expression. I narrowed in on her hands, which were occupied clutching a small bag by her side.

I jerked my gaze back up to her face, waiting for an explanation.

“Um,” she said unconfidently. “No?”

“Are you sure?” I asked again, hearing the brittle edge to my voice as I spoke. “Because you did just call me.”

Her face paled.

“Oh my gosh, you’re Will?” she asked, evidently displeased by the fact.

“Thought you would’ve known that since apparently you already have my number?” I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for an explanation.

“If we’ve never met, how would I know who you are?” she countered, more sassily than I thought she had a right to be.

“If we’ve never met, why would you call me?” I asked. “Or better yet, how do you even have my number to make that a possibility?”

“Debra gave it to me,” she said with a look of irritation. “Told me to call you if I needed anything. But she failed to mention how charming you are. Something else to add to the Wikipedia listing.” She muttered the last part under her breath.

Ignoring the last quip, I focused on what mattered. My phone number was being handed out to the town strays, and I was being advertised as the man to go solve all her problems, as if I didn’t already have enough to deal with.

“And you need something already? After being here for an hour?”

If that were the case, I could only imagine the amount of requests I’d be getting from this girl during her time here.

“No,” she countered defensively, matching my body language with a defiant crossing of her own arms. “I wouldn’t ask you for help. I don’t even know you!”

Despite her best attempt at holding her ground, she was about eight inches shorter than me and about as intimidating as a kitten. A feral kitten, maybe. But nonetheless, something I could pick up in my arms and move to a location where it wouldn’t be such a nuisance.

“Hence the question: why did you call?” I said, reiterating each word.

“If you really want to know, I was calling because I was hoping to figure out if you were in there or not based on if I saw anyone answer the phone.”

“What, are you stalking me from afar?”

“No!” she countered, affronted. “And if I were, I’d be the worst stalker ever, clearly.”

She looked me up and down, and for half a second, I felt self conscious about my worn Levi’s and dirt covered boots. For a first impression, I wasn’t making a very good one. But then I thought, what do I care what the girl peeking through windows thinks? As far as I was concerned, I needed to keep my distance from her.

No way did I have room for yet another person’s problems. She could figure it out herself. Unlike everyone else in town, I had no history with her that gave me that exaggerated sense of obligation to help her through every micro-crisis she encountered.

She didn’t know me, my past, my life. And for the first time in a long time, I finally had a clean slate with someone.

“I was just trying to figure out who this famous ‘Will’ was so I could make sure to avoid you,” she explained, as if it made any sense at all.

“Well, coming to my place of work is an excellent strategy to do that,” I mocked. “And why the hell are you trying to avoid me, anyway?”

Better question: why did I care that she was avoiding me? I was irritated that she’d been seeking me out, and somehow even more annoyed by her admittance of going out of her way to make sure our paths didn’t cross.

Why couldn’t she just be normal?