Page 4 of Long Hard Fall

The girl rolled her eyes and stepped out. “Whatever.” Said with all the attitude a girl her age could muster.

He finished dressing and found his pickup where Abbi had directed him to park it last night. The spot next to his was empty. Abbi was done and gone.

Where had she said she was from again?

Oh, yeah, she hadn’t.

His mouth quirked. He’d wanted to get to know her. Not too much new meat came to town, but she’d been…different. Sweet. The other girls he “dated” were sweet, too, but Abbi was…different. It was like she hadn’t cared if Cash hit on her or not, but she’d been delighted to just laugh and joke around. Even more delighted when he’d accepted her overt invitation back to her room. A guy could get used to that level of comfort with a girl.

No thinking along those lines. He’d been ditched, and he was man enough to take it since he’d dished it out plenty of times before.

Chapter 2

Abbi set her items on the gas station counter and assessed the cashier. If anyone knew everyone in town, it’d be the bespectacled, gray-haired lady manning the cash register. “I’m looking for Reno Walker.”

“Who?” The cashier’s incredulous expression would be embarrassing if Abbi’s head wasn’t pounding.

“Reno Walker.”

The woman shook her head. “There is no one in town named Reno, I can guarantee, but we’ve got a ton of Walker boys. Maybe you’re looking for one of them?”

“Maybe. My brother always called him Reno. They were in the army together.”

An older guy waiting in line behind her spoke up. “A couple of the young Walkers were in the army. Maybe it’s one of them.”

The clerk rang up Abbi’s pathetic breakfast of a chocolate-glazed pastry and diet soda. She’d started off the morning very un-Abbi-like, or rather, more Abbi-like than she’d wanted. Why not revert to another college habit? She just hoped it stayed down.

The woman rattled off the price before saying, “That’s right, a couple of them were. George, why don’t you give her directions to the Walker spread. They’ll help her out.”

Abbi handed over her cash while the poster-child for an old farmer with his denim overalls and dirty trucker’s hat rattled off things like “turn north” and “head west.” All Abbi got from the conversation was that there were five Walker cousins who farmed and ranched and they all lived around each other. Moore was small; how hard would it be to find them?

She drove for a couple of hours with no luck. She now knew Moore by heart and every avenue in and out of town. Finally, she stopped at another gas station where a man about her age was more than willing to help her with directions. A greasy hot dog somehow called her name, and she grabbed another soda. And a water so she could claim one responsible thing for the morning.

After receiving the most thorough directions of her life, and getting warned about one particular Walker named Cash who was a heartbreaker, she was on the highway and pointing in the right direction. She munched on her food and drained her soda. Breakfast had stayed down so she’d taken it as a good sign, despite her stomach’s constant upset.

She cruised past her turnoff. “Oh, shit.” Time to find an approach to turn around.

Straight shot on gravel, the man had said.

She drove for a mile or two and wouldn’t have minded a few more. The countryside was gorgeous. Brightly colored leaves still decorated the trees, and golden or already harvested fields surrounded her. The temps were supposed to be moderate today, and she would have loved to dig out her athletic shoes and taken a nature hike if she’d felt better.

Two houses—more like the trees surrounding the houses—came into view. The place on her left was concealed by a few rows of trees, but the place on her right was only partially blocked from view.

Which one should she choose? She slowed to a stop since no one else was on the road. The man who’d warned her of Cash Walker had said he lived… Dammit, she couldn’t remember. There goes her scatterbrain, as Ellis always said. She rolled her eyes at herself like she would’ve at him.

She picked the house on the right that didn’t have as many trees. It was more sensible to approach strange men out in the open.

Her parents would die eighty deaths if they knew what she was up to. Ellis was supposed to have accompanied her, but he’d had a shit-fit. Didn’t stop her, though. Her family had only gotten vague stories about her brother’s death, and she wanted closure. Needed it. She couldn’t be Responsible Abbi when her mind hounded her for answers. Something deep inside drove her to seek out her brother’s old army buddies, and if that meant knocking on the doors of random farmers, so be it. She’d find Reno Walker from Moore, Minnesota, and she’d get the full rundown of how her brother had died.

She turned into the drive. At first glance, the yard appeared cluttered, but it was actually neatly fenced off. Pens and corrals ran parallel to the road. Stacks of hay three bales high rimmed one edge of the property. A long barn separated the pens from the yard. Another huge barn also had fences coming off it and horses meandered around inside.

Parking in front of the house, she didn’t get out and it wasn’t because her food threatened to heave. She was looking at the cutest old farmhouse she’d ever seen; not even her grandparents’ house had been as adorable. Two stories high, painted white with yellow shutters, it was picturesque, but it was the wraparound porch that Abbi would kill for. Any direction, point your rocking chair and chill. Fantasies of sketching the horizon while the sun set dominated her thoughts. Summer nights would be divine.

How long since she’d sketched? Since they’d received the dreaded knock on the door announcing Perry’s death.

She climbed out and expected to be hit with the smell of manure, but fresh country air was all that greeted her.

Her breath hitched. This was it. Her first step on her hunt for Reno.

---