Tru-lyis the song of the eastern bluebird. The New York state bird is known to roost in flocks of up to fifty, hiding together at night to stay warm. They are the reason Clint and Rob met, when both answered a Brownie troop’s distress call that ended up being about a bluebird flock in Hiawassee, Georgia, caught up in some aggressive mating ritual. After assuring the spooked campers they were in no danger, the guys had a good laugh, and a friendship was born. When,years later, they both wound up in the New York Hudson Valley, they blamed it on the call of the New York state bird. Tru-ly Trails was inspired.
I open my eyes and place both my hands on my husband’s chest. “You launched.”
His gaze flicks over to the wall. “Oh, not entirely. Not really. You know, we’ve just been knocking around the nonprofit idea for years.”
“I recognize the logo.”
Clint cocks his head.
“Dave Alliston has a trail map with that exact logo in his office.” I run my fingers over the logo. “I saw it this week.” A shiver runs down my back.
“Right.” Clint shifts his gaze away from my face. “Dave has been a supporter and has opened some amazing doors locally. Beyond the maps and experiences, he’s had great ideas on structuring a nonprofit while also being able to sell outfitting supplies.”
“Dave?” I want to shake my husband or maybe punch him. My fists clench at my sides. “We’ve been debating who could do this to our family, and you never thought to mention your relationship with Dave? Clint, I don’t—”
“It’s not a relationship. Calm down, Meredith.” Clint swiftly shuts the door.
“No. I will not calm down. Is he after us? Are you blind? This could all be part of taking me down.” My hands reach toward the door. “Does he know where we are?”
“He knows there’s a cabin, but he’s never been here. We’ve only met—”
“Would Rob tell him?” I push past Clint to get to my kids.
“No.” Clint holds on to both my arms. “When I told Rob to tell no one, he even mentioned Dave. We need to connect about the grant. I explicitly told Rob not to tell him.”
I remember the call from the car. We have to be able to trust Rob. Right?
Clint tries to tug me toward him, but I resist.
I want to rail at him about why he hasn’t told me about Dave, but I feel like both a broken record and a hypocrite. Exhaustion steals over me. “Is this another thing you tried to tell me, but I didn’t listen?”
“No.” He runs his fingers up my arm. “I haven’t said anything.”
“Why?” I whisper. Dave has been so difficult. Never an ally. I still remember him grabbing me at the bell ringing reception. His hands were where Clint’s are now. The bruises fainter but still there.
“He asked me not to.”
“And you took his side?” I pull away.
“I didn’t know there were sides to take.”
I stare at the trail map. The path through is never the most direct. “You know who he’s been to me at work. I’ve complained about that man.” But not often, I now realize. Another protective measure, I guess. Keeping the ugliness at work out of my home. “I did tell you that he wouldn’t help me with sales, and he’shead of sales.” My voice goes a little screechy. I swallow.
“Yes. I think that’s why he asked me not to mention anything. I told him I’d never lie. If you asked me or it came up, so be it, but I agreed not to volunteer his name.”
“I don’t understand.” I finally look into my husband’s eyes.
“From what I’ve gathered, he hasn’t been proud of the way he’s treated you. Competition gets the best of him. He’s told me more than once that he’s wanted to start over with you, but then he experiences another slight or rebuff, and he’s right back to where he started.”
I didn’t invite him to ring the closing bell.
There is no doubt he felt my slight, but I have felt far more from him.
He is not an ally.
Clint pulls my hand toward him. “He’s wanted to make amends, but not because he helped me. He didn’t want your sense of duty to bridge a gap he should have paved over.”
“You guys have really talked a lot about this.” A sticky chill creeps up my back.
