Page 21 of At Her Will

“My favorite hasn’t been cast yet. If they heed my barrage of social media posts, it will be Idris Elba.”

“Concrete Cowboy.”

She shot him a surprised look. “Not the movie most people think of for him, but yes.”

“They showed it in one of the current event classes. I was cleaning the windows, and Mr. Dillon saw I was interested. He loaned it to me. It reminded me of here, with the horses and the carriages, only this was cowboys in Chicago. I like the unexpected.”

His gaze lingered along her ear and neck, moving down to her arm and the swell of her breast, curve of her hip. “You unexpected, Veracity. It hurt to look at you, in the right ways.”

“You like trying to make me blush.”

“No ma’am. But that’s also unexpected.” His knuckle grazed her warm cheek. I guess men are always saying how beautiful you are.”

“Have you been in a long-term relationship, Rev? Or married?”

“Now, or in the past?”

“If you say now, it’s a long walk back.”

He grinned. “No. Not now. I had relationships, but mostly with women I met through the church. Nothing that took for long. About a year was the longest, and she off to college most of it, so it was more phone calls than anything else.”

“Why ‘relationships,but,’ like they didn’t really count if they started at church?”

He didn’t immediately respond. At the next light, she glanced his way. Rev pressed his lips together. “People see a storm, they might like how it light up the sky, the thunder making the ground shake. It’s a show. But most don’t want to stand out in the rain, feel what a storm really all about.”

At her expression, he shook his head. “It not something that hurts me, Veracity. Not no more. My aunt say that’s why I need to be a janitor, don’t need to be more than that. There’s a balance to it. Some women hear my voice, see that I ain’t too hard on the eyes, she a fly to honey. Then she finds out more, and I become a mud fence. She don’t want to get too dirty with it.”

While that statement didn’t sit well with her, he’d made it clear from their last trip down this road he wasn’t seeking an opinion other than his own on it. But she did have to ask. “Do you think I’ll be that way?”

His eyes sharpened. “You saw me at the school. Saw my writing. Then you came to find me at the church. You interested in more. I’m interested in you, so I’m glad.”

She put her hand on his thigh, and he curled his hand over hers. They stayed that way until they reached the state park. The winding drive took them past camping spots and hiking trail markers. He had her stop at the one that said, “Wishes Mailbox, 3 miles.”

“Can you walk three miles?” he asked. “If you can, it’s worth it.”

“I can, if we stop for ice cream on our way back to town.”

He tapped the small backpack he’d placed at his feet. “I brought us some lunch and drinks.”

“A prepared man. I like that. But I’m still stopping for ice cream. What’s the Wishes mailbox?”

“It just a mailbox in a thinking kind of place. They leave pens and notebooks in it, so people can write down their thoughts to share with others. It has a good feel to it, like those kinds of places can have. There’s one up in North Carolina, at Sunset Beach, the Kindred mailbox. The person who put his one up wanted something like it down here.”

He exited his side and came around to open her door. “What your favorite flavor of ice cream?”

“Lately I’ve been in a salted caramel fudge vanilla mode. You?”

“They have ice cream sandwiches in the cafeteria. I like them.”

He guided her to a wide, well-tended trail. As they walked, she could see creeks and marsh land through the trees. They shared the scenery in silence, occasionally broken by relaxed conversation about their surroundings, stories about him working at the school or church, or her at TRA. What two people talked about who were testing the fit for the pieces of their lives.

Rev put a hand on her arm, stopping her in place. He also stepped forward, so she was partly behind him.

Now hearing the crackling of leaves that he’d heard, she saw an alligator emerge and ponderously cross the trail ahead of them. The pendulum swing of his head matched the sinuous movement of his body, the flat eyes, set so wide apart, capturing them in his view. He kept coming, at least fifteen feet from nose to tail. Then he was across, tail swishing through the fallenleaves on the other side of the trail. He slid into the shallows that led into deeper marsh waters and disappeared.

Rev shifted to her side, and they started walking again. “Good to give a big feller like that a wide berth when you know he coming. You okay?”

“Yes.” She chuckled at her nerves. “I was born and bred a city girl, so seeing wildlife like that so close can still take me by surprise. But thanks to Abby, who’s a Louisiana native, I know they don’t tend to bother humans unless someone has been stupid enough to feed them. What would you have done if he’d charged?”

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