Page 297 of Mountain Grump

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Nothing.

And this bag wasn’t here when I was sitting with Quackers last night.

My eyes lift to the other side of the driveway. To the tree line.

“You’re supposed to be my guard duck, ya know? If you’re just letting men walk out of the woods onto my property…”

Quackers holds my gaze, then jabs her beak into the center of my palm.

I snort. “You’re a greedy bird.”

I scoop out another small handful of the duck feed, then I squeeze the resealable bag closed and stand.

Quackers is focused on her food, so I walk alone.

Across the driveway.

Into the grass.

Up the little hill.

Toward the trees.

And everything inside me that’s been wondering if I made the right choice…

Everything inside me that wants to believe Ethan.

Everything inside me that’s still in love with him… squeezes.

My lips tremble even as they lift into a smile.

I don’t find the man.

He’s not here.

But he was.

I take a step closer.

The ribbon is still there. As far as I can see, in both directions.

But now there’s more.

There are beads.

Every few feet, strings of glass beads hang down from the top wire of the fence.

Beads of varying shapes and shades of purple.

Beads hanging from fishing line.

I turn my head to the right and to the left.

Hundreds of suncatchers.

And everything inside me that doubted him…

Everything inside me that thought he was like everyone else…

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