Page 2 of Rescued

I sigh and close the album hard, watching as an envelope flitters down. White corners are bent and stained with time and there’s a flag stamped in the corner with fading blue ink.

My eyes follow the fluttering insignia, and my stomach bottoms out when the envelope settles onto the ground, and I clearly see the name on the front.

It’s mine.

Kelly Anne Bruin, and the return address on the corner belongs to Gentry.

Chapter Two

Gentry

I lean against the bar and nurse a beer as I make small talk with Mullet, half-watching the game that’s on. Unfortunately, this has become a regular occurrence for me.

“You guys dressing up tomorrow?” Mullet wipes down the counter as he talks. This is his bar, and he retired at least ten years ago, but he still comes in often to serve when he’s feeling up to it. I’ll tell you one thing, that’s not for me. I love this town too, but when I retire, you won’t catch me around people on the regular.

“Nah, gotta be able to move quickly. Costume will slow me down.”

He nods. “Hadn’t thought of that. It’s the first year we’ve hired security, but after that fight last time around, I think it’s a good call. Folks get drinkin’ and everyone gets stupid. I couldn’t pull ‘em off each other and had to call the cops. I hate doin’ that shit unless it’s absolutely necessary, ya know? They have more important shit to do than to clean up some drunken assholes.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll come dressed as security and everyone will stay on their best behavior.”

Mullet laughs and scans his eyes over me. “You’re a big guy. I think they will. You know you’re welcome to bring someone and have a good time. I don’t need you to stand by thedoor or anything. Just mingle and be here if we need a set of hands.”

“Well, I think I’m bringing my brother, Carson. Gotta bring a young one with me to offset this old arm I’m swinging.” I laugh. “I’m not as spry as I once was.”

He chuckles. “Same, brother. How is everything?”

“Same shit, different day. Work on the truck and chop wood. The only thing out of the ordinary lately was getting the plow hooked up so I can make it out of my driveway if we get that snow that’s supposed to come next week. Can’t believe we’re in for that shit already.”

Mullet nods and I get the feeling he’s not asking me what’s up because he wants to hear about my plow or the four feet of snow that’s on its way. “I know you hate talkin’ about anything deep, but how are you…really?”

I drag in a suffocating breath and stare up at the game, desperate to talk about anything but feelings. “Crazy game they’re having. You still like the Cowboys?”

Mullet grabs a glass from the dishwasher and wipes the rim before setting it up on the shelf. “So, you’re not good, huh? The internet has all kinds of information now. You can search for people and find out all kinds of shit you have no business of knowing.”

I glance toward him and hop off the stool. “There’s nothing to talk about. It was one night ten years ago. It’s fuckin’ stupid that I still think about it, and it’s even dumber that everyone in my life keeps mentioning it.”

He laughs. “I’ve known you for thirty years, brother. That night, at this bar, you were a different man. Everyone saw it.”

I laugh. “Look, I get it, but what would I do even if I found her? I sent her a letter years ago. She never answered me. That’s about as clear as it gets.”

“Maybe she didn’t get the letter.”

I downturn my gaze. “Shegotthe letter.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. She got it.”

“You were overseas. Things get lost all the time. This was ten years ago. That letter could’ve gone anywhere.”

“Or it went to her, and she didn’t respond.” I’m getting more and more agitated the longer we talk, but I’m not really sure why. The only thing I’m sure of is thinking about Kelly fucks me up.

Still…ten years later and talking about a woman I knew for one nightstillfucks me up. That’s not normal. “Look, I gotta go. I’ll be back tomorrow night for the party with Carson. Let me know if you need anything before then.”

Mullet shakes his head and sighs as though he doesn’t understand me. I bet he doesn’t. He’s been happily married with kids for years. Hell, I think his children are grown by now. I should’ve asked how they were doing. Anything to get away from all the fucking questions.

I swing open the door of the bar and stride into the street, where the cool night air is refreshing. I love this time of year. Not for the apples, the pumpkins, and the oncoming holidays, that shit’s a headache, but for the crisp air and hunting season. That, and folks tend to stay in more when it’s cold and snowy, so there’s fewer people in town.

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