When we first went out to evaluate the stage at the fairgrounds, it clearly needed to be repaired. Expanded too, since the Founders Festival was supposed to bring in several hundred people from neighboring towns. But that’s why we putthe work out to bid. Probably just a matter of them getting old information.
“You do the same,” Orville said.
We hung up, and I tried to focus for the next several hours through a series of appointments. Working on the festival had put me way behind on other things. It was early evening before I had a chance to take a break and even think about driving out to the festival site.
I hadn’t heard anything from Mr. Franklin about my car being accessible so I snagged a pre-made sandwich from the gas station to satisfy the hunger pains radiating through my belly and reached the site while there was still just enough sunlight to be able to take a good look at the stage.
I stopped short since another truck sat in the way. Black as night with out-of-state plates, I would have bet my real estate license it was the same one I’d seen Huck driving. Suspicion rose, tightening my lungs, making it hard to draw in a full breath. Had Huck been messing around at the festival grounds?
After a quick scan of the area, I didn’t see him. He had to be close, though. I got out of the truck with the sandwich clutched in my hand. Turkey and swiss on wheat might not be the best defense, but I had to work with what I had and Franklin’s truck cab didn’t offer a lot of options.
Whistling came from a shed behind the stage. It had to be him. I recognized the tune as one he used to whistle while we walked back and forth to the old swimming hole on warm summer nights. I’d tell my dad I was spending the night at a friend’s house and instead, I’d meet up with Huck and spend the night in the back of his truck staring up at the stars.
Damn those memories. Gripping the sandwich tighter, I crept toward the shed. The wind kicked up, blowing dirt into my eyes. Squinting, I stopped at the entrance to the building and peered into the darkness.
“Huck? Are you in there?”
“Peyton?” He turned toward me. “What are you doing here?”
Convinced he was up to no good, I stormed into the shed. “Shouldn’t I be asking you the same question? Are you trying to sabotage the festival? Is that why you’re sneaking around out here after hours?”
“What?” His brows knit together and his lips corkscrewed into a frown. “I’m actually here fixing things, but I guess you never considered that.”
“Fixing what?” I whirled around as he stomped past me.
“The whole thing. Franklin’s crew has been doing shitty work. I stopped by the other day to check on things since I heard him bragging about how he could cut corners on that foundation repair he was doing for you.”
It took a second for his words to sink in. “You heard him say that?”
“Yeah.” Huck tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling.
“When was that?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Last week sometime?”
“And you didn’t think that might be something I ought to know?”
His eyes met mine. Heat and anger burned deep in their depths. “Are you telling me that if I came to you and said that I’d heard Franklin was doing a shit job on your client’s foundation repair, that you would have believed me? That you wouldn’t think I was just bitter about you not taking my bid for the festival job?”
He was too close. I could feel the frustration rolling off him in waves. I took a step back to put a little bit of distance between us and fumbled for the right words. “You should have told me.”
“I suppose I should have told you your guy Franklin has been doing a crappy job on the stage build out too?” Huck put his palm on the wall behind me and leaned close. “Because youwould have taken me at my word, right? Just like you did back then.”
My knees threatened to buckle, but I locked them tight and pushed off the wall, going on the offensive. “What I did back when, Huck? You want to go there? You want to talk about how you left me without looking back? How you walked away without even saying goodbye?”
He didn’t budge, just stood there blocking my way. “That’s not what I wanted, but what was I supposed to do? Your dad made it pretty clear I didn’t have a choice.”
“What does my dad have to do with anything? You did something stupid and got caught. He wasn’t the one who spray painted the bank building.”
“Neither was I, Peyton. But you didn’t believe me then either.” His jaw clenched.
There was just enough light coming through the door to the shed that I could see his pulse beat along his throat. Old habits had me lifting my hand to run it over the scruff on his chin. I stopped myself just before I touched him and let my hand drop to my side.
“It doesn’t matter.” Defeated, I shook my head and swallowed back the threat of tears.
“Might not matter to you, but it sure as hell still matters to me.” He took in a deep breath and turned to go. As he did, a huge gust of wind rattled the walls of the storage shed. The door slammed closed and everything went dark.
“Huck?” I reached out, feeling around for him in the dark as panic rose. There were few things in life I was afraid of… snakes, going to the dentist, and being trapped in the dark. It all stemmed from a game of hide and seek when I was a kid. I’d hidden in the trunk of my mom’s huge Oldsmobile and it was such a good spot that no one found me for hours. Ever since, I’d been terrified of the dark.
