Chapter 2 #2
She lifted her chin and let her gaze take a slow circuit around the diner, making sure all the eyes focused on her. She knew each of these people. Had known them all her life. They should realize by now how stubborn she was and that they needed to give her more time to heal.
“I appreciate the reason behind what you tried to do here. But you can’t do this for me.
Let me heal in my own time. I can’t get over a lifetime of Jake in just four short years.
Your little game is over. It’s not funny anymore.
” Then she turned back to Matt and tapped on his leather-bound ticket book with the pictures.
“No more hide and ticket with my car. We can be friends, but that’s it.
If you keep writing me tickets, I will make sure every varmint I can find infests your house and office. ”
“You can’t do that!”
Old Mr. Henry cleared his throat as he hobbled his way across the diner toward the cash register in the corner.
“Don’t underestimate her, son. Everybody knows Hannah has an odd way with the critters.
You should’ve seen her with that pack of skunks a few years ago.
Nobody messed with Hannah that spring. And that was before Jake died. ”
“It’s no worse than what you did with your little ticket charade. So, like I said, no more tickets. Do we have a deal?” She stood at the door of the diner, waiting for Matt’s compliance.
He tossed his ticket book on the counter and lifted both hands in surrender. “No more tickets.”
Sunlight filtered down through the leaves, sending bright spots dancing across the ground.
Birches, maples, and hundred-year-old oaks dotted this part of the mountain, along with cedar, dogwood, and pine.
Everything shifted in the gentle breeze.
The morning sunshine still held the crisp kiss of spring.
It was early enough in summer that the humidity wasn't high enough to plaster your clothes to your body.
It was the kind of warm day where cats became boneless and draped across the porch railing for a lazy, sun-drenched snooze.
Hannah rocked to the rhythmic squeak of the battered porch glider while she sipped her morning coffee.
She loved the steady ricketedy-racketedy thump of the rusty-hinged swing.
It reminded her of Granny and simpler days.
They had spent hours on that front porch swing, making up stories about magical places.
She propped her bare feet on the waist-high railing of the weathered veranda, cradling the steaming cup against her chest. The covered porch ran the circumference of the house, providing the perfect morning oasis.
The third-generation home screamed for want of a few replaced boards and a fresh coat of paint, but she just couldn’t seem to find the time or the inclination.
With a sigh, she flicked at a bubbled-up paint chip with her big toe.
A ruby-throated hummingbird buzzed in from the cluster of cedars bunched at the corner of the house.
The iridescent flash of green hovered a moment in front of her, dipped closed enough for her to feel the wind from its whirring wings, then dashed to light on the feeder hanging from the roof’s edge.
As she watched the bird submerge its needle-like beak into the trumpet-shaped feeder, she allowed herself a heavy sigh.
Today, she would go to the cemetery. It was their anniversary.
She and Jake would have been married six years today.
If only. She sucked in another deep breath and curled her legs beneath her.
She hated the if-only game. It had eaten away at her soul and churned her gut ever since Jake died.
The wind sent the faintest sweetness across here.
She closed her eyes against the honey-sweet fragrance and forced down the knot of emotions threatening to choke her.
The scent reminded her: she needed to gather an armload of honeysuckles.
She couldn’t let their anniversary pass without covering Jake’s marker with their favorite flower.
A bittersweet ache shuddered through her as she remembered the first time she and Jake had discovered the sweet-smelling vines.
Hannah had just turned six and faithfully followed seven-year-old Jake wherever he went on their mountain.
Young Jake had sworn they followed the trail of the elusive Big Foot. He had seen it on television the night before and recognized the massive old oak in one scene right before the last commercial. Hannah knew he was right. After all, Jake knew everything. Didn’t he tell her that often enough?
They had discovered the opening of a deserted cave hidden behind that tangled abundance of flowering honeysuckle vines.
But much to their disappointment, Big Foot escaped them.
However, the enticing, honey-laced aroma of the flowers caught their attention.
That’s when Jake discovered if he took the trumpet-shaped flower and pulled the stamen backward out through the stem, they could catch the sweet, sticky nectar on their tongues and rob the local hummingbirds of their syrupy treat.
They immediately forgot Big Foot and spent the afternoon pillaging the tasty flowers.
Hannah swallowed hard again. The memories almost strangled her so she forced herself back to the present.
Curse that stupid war, and curse Jake for his need to be everyone’s hero.
He had always hungered for the excitement of adventure more than he ever hungered for her.
She closed her mind against those darkest thoughts that had always plagued her.
Some other adventure would have stolen Jake from her even if he had survived the war.
But that didn’t matter now. The hair-trigger bomb wired to that hospital jeep had sent him home to her in a box. He could never leave her again.
As the coffee hit her tongue, she discovered it had gone cold.
After a glance down at her pajamas, she rose from the glider, tossed the bitter liquid over the railing, and strolled across the porch.
Time to get dressed and get the ATV loaded.
She looked forward to the thirty-minute ride up the primitive trail to the gravesite.
The peace of the forest would ease her mind.
She also needed to get back down the mountain in time to talk to Mrs. Newell’s third-grade class about the local raccoon population and that no matter what the children saw on television; the animals did not make suitable pets.
A chittering noise at the edge of the woods grabbed her attention.
Without even looking, she knew who it was and called over her shoulder as she headed toward the back door.
“I don’t have time today. If you want to meet me at the gravesite, go on ahead, and I’ll see you there.
” Through the screen door, she glanced across the yard to make sure the animals had heard her.
“Go on. Meet me at Jake’s marker. Today is our anniversary, remember?
” Three squirrels, a doe, and a very obese raccoon turned and disappeared into the woods.