Page 78 of River Ride

After watching Rick eat all that food, Tammy felt a little woozy. “I think I’ll go back to my truck and lie down for a while. I’ve got to prop my leg up. It’s starting to ache.”

“Want company? I could use some down time with a beautiful girl like you.”

He wasn’t pushy and Tammy liked that about him. “I’ll think about it, Rick.”

“Think hard.” He laughed.

Shadow Mountain. West Virginia.

Bobby & Cleo were doing some serious porch sitting after supper. Wasn’t dark yet, but the sun was beginning to sink behind the neighboring mountain.

Bobby had taken Ray’s guitar out of the case and was experimenting with it. He figured if he tried hard enough, he could teach himself to play. Never in his life had he missed anybody like he was missing Ray.

He blamed Ray’s death on Tammy and sometime in the future, he planned to make her pay for all the shit she had done to ruin his life.

Humming a song and trying to match the notes in his head to the sounds the strings made, he was concentrating so hard he didn’t notice a girl ride up on her horse.

She stopped next to the porch steps and called out to him. “Hey, I’m Bev from down the road.”

“Hey, Bev,” said Bobby.

“I ride by here almost every day, and I’ve never seen you here before.”

“I was away for a while. Just got back from Canada last night.”

“Sure you’re not a squatter? This mountain is crawling with them.”

“I hear what you’re saying, Bev. Had a squatter in the cabin when I got back, and Cleo ran him off. My name is Fletcher. You can call me Fletch if you want.”

“Got an extra beer, Fletch?”

“Sure.”

Bev got off her horse, tied the reins to a branch and headed for the steps.

Cleo growled when Bev started up the porch steps towards them and Bobby put his hand on Cleo’s big head to calm her down.

“Huge dog,” said Bev.

“Newfie. She’s a great dog. Protective.” Bobby fished a can of Molson’s out of the cooler and handed it to her. “Have a seat.”

“Thanks. Can I hear you play?”

Bobby laughed. “Not yet. I’m only learning. I’ll sing you a song in about another year.”

Coyote Creek Inn. Montana.

Already regretting inviting her, Travis pulled into the Inn at six-thirty and glanced around the parking lot for the Pellegrino ranch truck. Didn’t see it. He parked in the spot with his name on it and went inside.

Susan Westfall met him in the lobby. “Got a minute, Travis?”

“I’m meeting someone for dinner, but she’s not here yet, Susan.”

“No, she’s not, but your table is ready. I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“I hired a new assistant manager like we talked about, and I want to introduce her to you.”

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