Page 21 of Roads Behind Us
“Ah, that explains it.”
“The town I’m from, Mays Hollow, isn’t much bigger than Wisper.”
“I bet it’s pretty this time of year.”
“Oh yeah,” I said, picturing my childhood home and the surrounding fall foliage that would be peaking right now. I could hear the babbling brooks and see the stones beneath the slow water, glittering in the sun as orange and yellow leaves danced and floated down the streams.
Memories of those rivers and trees were really all I had left of my home.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to see the beauty in front of me in the moment. Western Wyoming was no wilting daisy. There was a lot here I could see myself getting used to.
“It’s gorgeous here, though.”
“Yeah,” Devo said, bending to pick a purple wildflower from the meadow we stood at the edge of.
The fields seemed to go on forever in the distance. They swayed lazily in the autumn breeze, all the blades of grass and flowers flowing in one direction, but then the wind would shift, and they’d sway back the other way.
Aspen trees glittered like gold at the edges of the meadows. The white and black trunks reminded me of wood elves, standing guard beneath the gilded canopies so winter wouldn’t come to steal the gold too soon. The evergreens sprinkled throughout the aspen groves stood like blue-green soldiers sent to protect and defend the elves and their forests’ bounties.
And the mountains? The Tetons had to be female, if mountains could claim a gender, because I’d never seen anything more terrifyingly beautiful and commanding.
“Well,” Devo said, “guess I’d better get to work. Can I drop you somewhere on the way?”
“Yeah, thanks. I’ll just have you drop me back at Bax’s house, if you don’t mind. My truck’s there. The crews won’t be here till tomorrow. Brand gave ’em a few days off so I could get my bearings, so today, my to-do list consists of findin’ a hardware store.”
She nodded. “You’ll wanna head to Jackson for that. Bob over at the feed shop sells some of that stuff, but I’m guessin’ you’ll have more specific hardware needs than he can provide.”
“Actually, today I just need road reflectors and some solar garden lights.”
“Oh, perfect. Bob will have those for sure. You can follow me. I drive right by there on my way to the community center.”
“Cool,” I said as she turned, and I followed her back to her truck. “So what do you do at the community center?”
“Lots of things. I’m the assistant director, which basically means I do everything. There’s a lot of management to my job, but I also work with the community on different projects. We offer education and employment services, and we do a lot of outreach and fundraisers and things like that, but the best part of my job is bein’ there for people when they need a helpin’ hand or guidance or they just need someone to talk to.”
“That sounds awesome, and like you work your tail to the bone.”
She laughed. “Yup. Every day, all day, but it’s worth it.”
“You and Abey both work in town. Why didn’t you build your house there?”
“Oh, ’cause this is our dream. Abey grew up on this land. She loves it and her family, and we’re startin’ a community garden out here. See there?” She stopped and turned to point to a plot of land beside her future house, where I now noticed rows of small plants growing. “That’s where we started. It’s our first growin’ season. Right now, we only have carrots, onions, radish, and some squash, but we’ve got big plans for next year.” She smiled with so much pride, I felt it inside my own chest. “Abey left some of the spoils in your fridge in the cabin before you arrived. Hope you like veggies.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling like the kindness I’d experienced in the last twenty-four hours since I’d hit the Wisper town limits would soften me to the point of crying, or at the very least, make me reluctant to yell at people as much as I normally did. “Where’s the grocery store? I’ll get some noodles and chicken stock and make soup.”
Bob’s Feed and Tack, a dusty little store on the outskirts of Wisper, owned by Bob himself, whom I met along with his wife, Linda, sold everything but the kitchen sink, including but not limited to hay, horse/sheep/cow tack and feed, cowboy hats, plastic wading pools filled with baby chicks, jerky of all varieties, and WD-40. If you needed to stop somewhere to pick something up real quick on your way home, no matter what it was, chances were Bob had it. Or he could get it, and he’d send Linda to deliver it to your house for a small fee.
Bax had asked to tag along. He said he needed to pick up a few things from the grocery store and put in an order at the feed store, but when Bob and Linda fawned over him as we entered, I would’ve bet my favorite tape measure he regretted the decision.
“Bax,” Linda said in a pitifully sweet voice. “How are you, honey? How are you and Athena holdin’ up?” She patted his shoulder over the checkout counter when we stopped to ask if they had road reflectors, her big, teased gray hair bouncing with the movement.
“We’re good, Linda. Thanks for askin’. This is Bea. She’s workin’ for Brand on the new cabins out at my place.”
“Nice to meet ya,” Bob said, offering his hand. I shook it while Linda offered a “Welcome, hon.”
“You too. Thanks.”
“Bob,” Bax said, pulling a crumpled ball of paper from his pocket. “I’ve got an order for you.”
