Page 3 of Resisting the Lumberjack

She doesn't take it. Doesn't leave, either. Her eyes drop to the sandwich, come back up. The scowl loses a fraction of its conviction before she nails it back into place like a fence board in a windstorm.

"I don't know you."

"Easy fix." Sandwich shifted left, right hand out. "Jake. People call me Kidd. Foreman over at Wild Peak Ranch, run the timber operations too. Four years a regular here. I hold doors, tip well, know every grandkid in this town by name. I volunteer for the fire department in summer and I cry at wedding toasts. I'm an open book, Selene."

Wait. She hasn't told me her name yet. Sal's looking at me funny.

"How do you know my name?"

"Sal's got your order slip right there." Nod toward the counter where a yellow pad reads SELENE - TURKEY CLUB in Sal's terrible handwriting. "Sorry. I read fast."

She looks at the pad. At me. At the pad.

"Selene." My hand's still out. "Nice to meet you. Properly."

No shake. Just the name handed over and pulled back, like she already regrets giving me that much.

"Is it that obvious. That I'm new."

"You're the only person in Wild Peak who'd fight a man over a turkey club instead of telling Sal to make it right." My chin tips toward the counter. Sal waves, sheepish. She does not wave back. "He'd have a fresh one in your hands in five minutes. He feels terrible."

Her jaw sets. "I don't like people who take what isn't theirs."

That lands different than she means it to. Weight behind it, something old, something worn smooth from years of carrying. This woman isn't angry at me. She's angry at something I just happened to remind her of. A nerve I tripped over without knowing where the wire was buried.

My half goes back on the counter. "Tell you what, Selene. Take the whole thing. I'll have Sal make me something else. I got nowhere to be for an hour."

She blinks. For one second the armor flickers. Tired underneath. Proud. Not used to people giving ground without a fight, without an angle, without wanting something back.

Then the walls slam up. Fast and absolute.

"Keep your sandwich." Purse snatched off the counter. "I'll eat somewhere else."

"There is nowhere else. It's Wild Peak. This is it."

She's at the door. Shoulders set, chin up. A woman walking away from something she's been walking away from for longer than today.

"Selene."

She pauses. Doesn't turn.

"Welcome to town."

The bell jangles. October light swallows her up. That sensible sedan pulls away from the curb without a glance in the mirror.

"Sal." My eyes don't leave the street. "Make me a fresh turkey club. Wrap it nice."

"For her?"

"For her." Hat goes back on. "Don't know where she's headed yet. But it's a small town. I'll find her."

Chapter Two

Selene

Agranola bar from my glove box passes for lunch because I'd rather chew cardboard in a parking lot than give that man the satisfaction.

The parking lot belongs to Shelton's Feed & Supply. The feed store belongs to my new life. My new life was supposed to be boring.