“Sounds like a plan.” I squared my shoulders and followed him into the bright white outdoors.
Everything we did felt saturated in a halo of white, layering an air of unreality over something as mundane as the smell of gasoline and manure. I refused to let myself thinklast time.Enough pouting. I’d be back in March. I had a plan.
Sometime later found me standing beside Tilly as her engine ran, warming for the drive. Colby and Tiffany had stopped to say brief goodbyes. John had waved from the tractor as he trundled hay out to the steers.
Seth stood at my elbow, peering intently at Tilly as if he could see through her rusted hood. “Sounds a little rough. You might get a tune-up when you have the chance.”
“Sure thing.”
“You drive careful, now. There’s always some ice after a storm like that.”
“I will.”
“Those tires look pretty bare.”
I couldn’t deny that, but also couldn’t change them. “I’ll be cautious.”
“Well.” Seth dragged his gaze from the truck to my face. “Call me.”
“For sure.”
He held out a gloved hand, then pulled me into a hug instead. “Be safe.”
“I promise.” I squeezed him with all my strength, my face against his neck, his scent still warm there despite the winter breeze. Then I pushed gently.
Seth stepped back, one pace, then two.
I swung up into Tilly’s seat, closed the door, and buckled in. Not looking anywhere but forward, I nudged down the gas and drove out of the snowy barnyard toward the lane. To my left, several of the dude horses bucked and played in the drifts behind the fence. I could name them all now. A hundred yards further on, we reached the end of their pasture and they whirled away, spraying snow.
The drive curved and descended, icy and rutted enough to force me to concentrate. Up ahead, near the road, the Star & Bar sign swayed from its posts, snow blown into the letters, half-obscuring them. Passing it should’ve seemed momentous but I just felt numb.
Fifty feet beyond, I reached the turn onto the blacktop. I checked my rearview then, once, but the barnyard was too far behind to see if Seth still stood where I’d left him.
No more looking back.
My bald tires slewed sideways as I pulled out onto the county road, then caught traction. I picked up speed and drove west, leaving the ranch behind.
That interminable distance I’d trudged after my failed hitchhiking attempt passed quickly. I flicked on my turn signal and took the entrance to the highway, taking a glance at the signage.
“Tolberg 12 Miles”
“Sacramento 77 miles”
“San Francisco 192 miles”
Someday, I’d go all the way to San Francisco and the ocean. I hadn’t come this far not to stand where America ended and the sea began. But for now, I’d start with Tolberg, though my online search on Seth’s computer hadn’t been promising. If I found nothing in Tolberg, then Sanderville, fifteen miles beyond, and if not Sanderville, Blue Vista, and on down the line.
I’d find a job, pay my way, and bide my time till spring.
I wished the radio worked in this old ride. Music would’ve been a distraction from thewhat-ifs,from the memories, echoes of last time it was me and Tilly and an uncertain future that wanted to fill my brain. I needed pounding lyrics, metal, hip-hop, pop, or even a boring country song about a guy and his truck to pull my thoughts away from the look in Seth’s eyes as he stepped back from me.
Singing should’ve been an option, with no one to hear how off-key I was, but I couldn’t force a note through my tight throat. So I just kept driving toward my next three months, with the sun off the snow making my fucking eyes water.
Yeah, I’d blame it on the snow.
Chapter 12
Seth
