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The shadow raced alongside the pickup as it sped over the highway. On either side of it the land rolled away, stretching from blue horizon to blue horizon.
Laura took her eyes off the road long enough to run a glance over Sebastian’s profile. “You’re unusually quiet.”
“I suspect this land is to blame,” he said with an absent smile. “It gives one a new appreciation for that trite phrase ‘wide open spaces.’ ”
“I suppose.” She looked around, trying to see it through his eyes. “I can remember my gramps once saying, ‘This land makes a small man smaller and a big man king.’ ”
“I suspect your grandfather looked every inch the cattle king in his day.” There was an underlying note of admiration and respect in his voice. The sound of it warmed something deep inside Laura and brought a faint swell of pride.
“From the stories I’ve heard, he wasn’t a man to tangle with,” she said.
“I dare say he still isn’t.”
In the distance the rooflines of Blue Moon jutted into view. “Town’s just ahead of us—such as it is,” Laura said. “When I was growing up it was a lively place. But that was back when the mine was in full operation.”
“A mine? What kind?”
“Coal. There’s tons of it underground. I can take you to a half dozen places on the Triple C where seams of it are exposed. Back in the old days it was just about the only fuel they had to heat their homes, other than cow chips, of course.”
“And what might cow chips be?”
Laura smiled at Sebastian’s puzzled look. “Manure.”
His eyebrows shot up in instant reaction. “Indeed, burning coal is infinitely preferable to burning manure for heat.” As they approached the outskirts of town, Laura reduced the truck’s speed, and Sebastian directed his attention to the buildings before him. “When did the mine close?”
“About a year ago, I think. The entrance to it is ahead on the right.” Laura pointed to the tall gate, chained and padlocked to prevent access. “After it closed, there was a mass exodus from town, with almost everybody moving away to find other jobs. The population of Blue Moon probably numbers only around thirty or forty people now.”
She flipped on the left turn signal and waited for a southbound semi to roar past, then made the swing into Fedderson’s lot. “Strawberries, here we come.”
“You intend to purchase strawberries at a petrol station?”
“There’s a grocery store inside, as well as post office and a small snack area. They even have a miscellaneous section where they sell everything from automotive supplies and hardware items to trinkets and magazines. Fedderson’s is really what used to be called a general store. Clothing is about the only thing they don’t sell.” Laura pulled up in front of the building and switched off the engine. After slipping the ignition key into her purse, she climbed out of the pickup while Sebastian exited the passenger side. “The Feddersons don’t actually own it anymore. Old Mrs. Fedderson sold it about eight years ago to Ross and Marsha Kelly,” she explained as she started toward the store entrance. “He drives a truck, so he isn’t here very often.”
“Surely his wife doesn’t run it all by herself, does she?” Sebastian reached ahead of her to open the door.
“Her brother works here, too, mostly at night. He’s a Vietnam vet who lost his leg in the war. Between the two of them and some part-time help, they do fine.” Laura preceded him into the store.
Marsha Kelly was behind the counter, a slightly built brunette with apple cheeks and the first few strands of gray showing in her hair. Her smile was quick and warm when she recognized Laura.
“Hi, Laura. Let me guess: you’re here for the strawberries,” she said.
Laura responded with a confirming nod. “Allie’s orders. I’m supposed to buy a whole flat.”
The woman grinned. “I swear I’ve had more customers this morning than I had all last weekend.” She pointed to her right. “All the strawberries I have left are on that table over by the fresh produce.”
Laura made her way to the produce aisle, trailed by Sebastian. After that, she simply had to follow her nose to the source of the sweet strawberry smell. Half the table was already bare of fruit, but one look at the berries’ red, ripe perfection and Laura understood why.
“Don’t they look luscious,” she marveled as she scooped up a flat of them.
“Indeed they do,” Sebastian agreed and reached for the flat. “Let me carry that for you.”
“Thanks.” Laura surrendered it to him without hesitation and retraced her path to the counter. “You still have six quarts left,” she told Marsha.
“They’ll be gone before the afternoon’s over, I imagine. Is there anything else you need?”
“Not this trip.” Laura removed the wallet from her purse as Sebastian set the flat of strawberries on the countertop.
“By the way,” Marsha said as she rang up the sale, “let Allie know that Ross is making a run to the Gulf Coast this week. He’ll be bringing back shrimp and some honest-to-goodness homegrown tomatoes, if he can find any.”
