Page 5 of Bridge to Safety

He hadn’t expected that story. “What do you believe?”

“Doesn’t matter what I believe.”

“It does to me.”

“I think the poor girl was telling the truth. That Larson boy always did have a mean streak. Thought himself prince of the town. He could have any girl he wanted, but he wanted Shiloh. The poor thing never stood a chance. She see him yet?”

He explained about the flat tire. “Her face was as white as a sheet when he walked out of that garage.”

“I guess she thought he’d have left town. He’d been offered a scholarship to college but blew his knee out playing football in a muddy field with his buddies before he could head off. She wouldn’t have known that.” June shook her head. “You watch out for her, Rowan. You watch her real close.”

“Why?” His heart skipped a beat.

“Because Duke will take one of two options, neither good. One, he’ll think she’s come back to be with him, or two, he’ll think she’s come back to ruin him. His mean streak has only grown bigger as he’s gotten older.”

Chapter Three

Shiloh had bought a full supply ofgroceries but neglected to buy anything to help her clean up the dump she now called home. She placed a call to an electrician and a plumber to install a washer and drier on what had once been a screened-in porch, then morphed into her childhood bedroom .

List in hand, she marched to her car. Cleaning supplies, a hammer and nails, some paint—the list went on. She’d seen a mercantile in town yesterday when Rowan had been chaffeuring her around. Hopefully, it would have what she needed so she wouldn’t have to drive off the mountain to the nearest large city.

She crossed the bridge over Little River, passing homes that had once been as shoddy as hers, but the younger generation had renovated them. People with better educations and more money. Well, she’d make her childhood home something to be proud of, given time.

She parked on Main Street, praying the owner of the mercantile wasn’t the same Fred Murphy from when she was a child. The man had hated her family. Not that Shiloh could blame him. Her father had been driving the car that killed the man’s son.

The man behind the counter was none other than Fred Murphy. She sighed, plastered on a smile, and approached the counter. Maybe he wouldn’t recognize her.

The scowl on his face said he did. “What are you doing back?”

“Teaching.” She handed him a list, knowing he’d take her money despite his feelings toward anyone with Sloan as their last name. “I’d like to purchase these, please, and to see a list of contractors if possible.”

“Fixing up that ole shack?”

“Yes, sir.” She kept the smile on her face.

“Hmmph. Still don’t know why you’d return.”

“To clear my name.” The words slipped out before she could stop them. Was this the real reason she’d returned? To show this town they’d been wrong about her? The past had plagued her the last fifteen years, casting a pall over every aspect of her life. Fear of rejection had kept her from forming any lasting relationships.

The bell on the door behind her jingled.

Murphy grinned as he looked over her shoulder. “How ya doin’, Duke?”

“It’s a fine day, Fred. Weather’s great. Work’s good. Can’t complain.” He stepped up to the counter and gave Shiloh a sideways glance. “Hey, Shiloh.”

“Duke.” She stepped away and pretended to study the display of paint colors. The lemon yellow would brighten her kitchen. While the men talked instead of Murphy filling her order, she picked the paints she wanted for her house, then set them on the counter. “Two gallons of each, please, plus the pan and three rollers.”

Murphy frowned. “You got the money for all this? It’s going to add up.”

“Yes.” She gritted her teeth to prevent herself from saying something she’d regret. “I’ve been a teacher for more than ten years. I’m fine.” And respectable and honest and not the dumb hillbilly girl everyone thought her to be.

“My apologies.” Duke stepped aside. “Fred, you can take care of me once you’ve finished with Shiloh.” He cast a smile her way. If not for the lecherous gleam in his eyes, she’d have fallen for his friendly ruse.

“If you’re sure.” Murphy started mixing her paint.

“How’s the house?” Duke leaned his back against the counter as he studied her.

She could feel his eyes on her. “Fine. Needs work.”

---