Chapter 2 #2
“He won’t spray, will he?” The truck lurches as he shifts gears while side-eyeing my sweet Cooper.
“Don’t be mean.” I scratch behind his little ears, his tiny head flopping onto Lark’s lap as he stares up at me in mischief.
If there ever was a creature on this earth that suited us, then it’s Cooper.
“Don’t make me a liar,” I whisper to his little body, and I swear he smiles up at me while his fluffy tail vibrates.
“If he sprays my cab, you’ll pay for it,” our strange savior states as the truck rumbles down the road. “Where were you heading, anyway?”
“To my Uncle Robin’s in Bethel.” Lark stares up at him in awe. One bag of M&M’s, and she’s a traitor.
“Bethel?” red shirt sputters. I really should ask him what his name is, but then I’d have to end the mystery, and I’m far too invested in this to just let it go.
“Bethel,” I echo.
“Lady, you are on the wrong road for Bethel.” He shakes his head. “See that mountain?” He points directly ahead.
“The looming sentinel?” I squint out the window, pretending the mountain isn’t that impressive.
“That’s Canada.”
“Oh no.” Now I lean forward. It isn’t like the mountain is going to have a glaring sign that says, Hey, I’m in Canada. Still, I look anyway, hopeful that perhaps it just might. If that is Canada, then I definitely took a wrong turn.
“I told you this.” Exasperated, Lark turns to our knight in flannel armor. “I told her which way to go. It was clear on the map. We went too far north, didn’t we?”
“Sure did, kiddo.” He reaches over and ruffles her hair, something I know she hates—I tried, and she nearly bit my fingers off—but when he does it, she just smirks up at him. Who is this child? I want mine back. “It’s all right. We will get you set up in the local bed-and-breakfast.”
Lark glares at me. Yeah, kid, I’m eating my words.
“And the car?” she presses. I swear she’s like a little bulldog.
“Well, I rarely fix Volkswagens, so I’ll have to see what I can do.” He shifts in his seat.
A tell. He doesn’t know how to fix my car. “Are there any dealers around here?” I already know the answer to my question though, if the side-eye he gives me is any sign. I’m so screwed. Not just screwed, but stranded near the border screwed.
“Lady, the nearest town is a mile away, and we’re heading there now.”
“That isn’t an answer.” I also peer out the window because I don’t see a town anywhere near us, just clusters of trees and mountains—not to mention the snow.
“The next town over?” He gives me another side-eye, this time looking far too uneasy. “It’s a solid hour away.”
“No.” I gasp. It isn’t just a gasp of surprise, it’s a genuine, oh no gasp that I can’t hold back. I look to Lark, my eyes wide. “Lark starts school Monday.”
His blue eyes glance at Lark longer than the allotted one-point-five seconds before he gazes back at the road. “That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”
Oh, now he’s just laying it on thick. “Thank you, ” s he preens. Preens!
“Don’t worry, I’m sure we can get you set up in the local school for the time being.”
“I would very much appreciate that. It’s dangerous to have a lapse in education.” Her little nose wrinkles up, making her freckles dance on her face. “Just so you know, I’m supposed to skip a grade.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” He leans down, never taking his eyes off the road. What magic is this? He’s full of trickery! “My baby sister runs the schoolhouse, so I’m sure she will place you just where you belong.”
Wait. What? “Let’s back that bus up.” I clear my throat. “Schoolhouse?”
“Schoolhouse.” I swear he smiles beneath all that bush called a beard.
“How many people are in this town?” Banjo music plays in my head, and I may or may not hum it out loud.
“What?” He shoots me a look. “Not like that. Look, there are about five hundred.”
“That’s a village, flannel man, a village.” I pause for dramatic effect, which goes unappreciated by these two. “Are you bringing me home to your settlement?”
Our savior looks down at Lark, who smiles at him like he’s responsible for the rising sun. “Is she always like this?”
“No.”
“Oh, good.” He settles for a moment.
It’s a lie because I know my daughter, and she may be as smart as a whip, but she also came from these loins. Therefore— “She’s worse.” There it is.
“Worse how?” He glances down at her.
“I double café dared her to be nice, and she couldn’t do it.”
“What does that even mean?” He shakes his head in disbelief, tightening his hands on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white.
“It means that we swear on the sacred bean.” Lark tsks under her breath and shakes her own head. “She failed the sacred bean.”
“I can’t tell if she’s serious or not.” He glances at me before pulling down a street that is hardly considered a street and more like a path through the woods toward Grandma’s house.
“Oh, she’s completely genuine. We take our coffee seriously.” I drum my fingers on the door. “So, red shirt, let’s go back to this schoolhouse.”
“My sister runs it. Lark will be in excellent hands.”
“Is it like one of those schoolhouses where it’s one giant room for all the kids?”
“No.” He answered far too fast for that to be believable.
“I don’t believe you, mountain man.”
“Will you stop calling me that?”
“What else am I supposed to call you?”
“Arlo, you can call me Arlo.”
“I like the name Arlo,” the little traitor I spurned from my loins chirps.
“Yeah? Me too.” Again, he ruffles her hair, and again, Lark doesn’t swat his hand away.
“Mom’s name is Wren.”
No amount of evil eye will work on this one. “I was saving the surprise,” I hiss at her.
“Birdie.” Arlo nods to himself with a smile. “Because you chirp and chirp and chirp.”
I want to be mad, but a little part of me finds it endearing. Of all the years I’ve lived with the name Wren, not one person gave me a nickname. Not even Eric. So I bite my lip to keep from smiling at him.
“Welcome to Silent Springs, Lark and Birdie,” Arlo announces right before the tire pops.