laughed. “Don’t worry about it. A dog his size doesn’t sneak up on anyone. When he’s running, he sounds more like a pony than a dog, and you can hear him breathing ten feet away. If you see him, just call me—your dad kept my number beside the phone in the living room. Oh, and Bear can be bribed. Carry some dog treats with you. Your dad has a jar of them in the kitchen.”
“So now I’m a dog trainer?”
“Guess so,” she said. “Welcome home, Joshua.”
He laughed.
“If you need any help sorting, carrying or moving stuff, let me know,” she said, pointing to the van. “I figure you’ll want to haul a lot of your father’s things away.”
“The van’s full of stuff from my apartment in San Francisco. As far as Dad’s things, Dan’s coming over later and we’ll handle it.”
They walked back to the van together, and after he got inside and started the engine, he glanced at her through the open window. “Remember that blue sweater you made for me right before I left for college?”
She smiled. “Yeah. It was my first attempt at making something wearable.”
“I’ve still got it, and it’s as warm as ever.” Without waiting for her to answer, he drove forward, then backed into the next driveway down.
She watched him as he propped open the front door of the house, then began to carry in boxes from the van. Although she could tell by the way he lifted them they were heavy, he walked with unwavering purpose.
Life might have knocked Joshua down, but something told her he’d soon be on his feet, stronger than ever.
* * *
AN HOUR LATER, Myka walked to the three-sided loafing shed in the backyard where she kept the grain. All ten sheep came to the fence, used to the routine.
After scooping grain into the feeders, she noticed a white butterfly perched on the edge of the welded pipe fence. It adapted to the breeze and, against all odds, remained where it was.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d stood there, watching, when a woman’s voice called her name. Myka turned her head and saw Liza Jenner standing at the corral gate. She waved and walked over to greet her friend.
In her early fifties, Liza was one of the town’s most experienced weavers. “Do you have any more of that spice-colored yarn left, Myka? The Spinning Wheels are meeting at my place tonight and we’re out of it for our Blankets for Warriors service project.”
“Come on. I’ve got some skeins in a box inside,” Myka said, unlocking the gate and letting Liza into the yard. “Has your daughter heard anything yet from that company in Las Cruces?”
“Yeah... She didn’t get the job. Unofficially, she was told they don’t like to hire anyone who’s been out of work that long. Have you ever heard of anything so crazy?”
Myka shook her head. “When Robyn worked in IVA’s public relations department, everyone loved her. That’s why she got such glowing recommendations. I can’t believe the trouble she’s having landing a job.”
“She took this last rejection really hard, but our get-together tonight will cheer her up,” Liza said. “You coming?”
“I’ll be there.” She looked back at the butterfly. If such a fragile creature could adapt to summer heat and strong winds, why couldn’t they be just as adaptable? “You know what this town’s problem is? We’re stuck in a holding pattern, clinging to our memories of what used to be—but that’s not good enough anymore.”
“You have something in mind?” Liza said as they walked toward the house.
“Yes. Tonight, instead of just talking about the projects we’re working on, let’s do something different. Ask everyone to bring a friend or their spouse and we’ll brainstorm on how to breathe life back into Independence. We dream up new colors, patterns and designs all the time. Why don’t we put some of that creativity to work and see what we can come up with for our town?”
“I’ll get busy making calls.”
She’d ask Joshua to come, too. It would be good for him to get away from all the memories the house still held.
Liza left five minutes later, and Myka finished taking care of the sheep.
Her mind was racing. Spur-of-the-moment ideas didn’t always pan out, but they had to try something. Endless waiting for the economy to turn around just wasn’t working. For the town’s sake, they had to find a new direction, and more important, a reason to hope.
CHAPTER TWO
JOSHUA STOOD ON his back porch, ignoring the dust that was blowing in the afternoon breeze and watching Myka, her hair swirling and falling in soft waves around her shoulders, tend her sheep. The girl he’d known since third grade had grown up and was more beautiful than ever.
He couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t been drawn to Myka, the good girl who always had something nice to say, and who’d stuck up for him when others tried to put him down. She was a natural leader, never quite falling in step with the rest of the girls, yet seemingly unaware of her own influence.
The fact that she’d eventually married Tanner was no surprise—they’d been a couple most of the way through high school. What did surprise him was Myka’s loyalty to this dying town. Why was she still here? What was she waiting for?
He wasn’t a betting man, but from the looks of it, he’d say that the odds were definitely against the place.
“You gonna stand out here all day?” Daniel asked, coming out of the house.
“Nah. Just needed some air.”
“And clouds of blowing dust from this unswept porch? City boy, all that carbon monoxide must have jellied your brains.”
He laughed, and they went back inside together. Daniel Medeiros, his best friend from high school and the town’s remaining grocer, had volunteered to help him clear out his father’s house. It was a good thing, too. The task was harder than he’d thought. Everything here was a memory wrapped in wishes, most of them never fulfilled.
His father had always dreamed of better things, making detailed sketches of the barn they’d someday build, and the workshop inside, with the benches and storeroom. Yet the money and time for his dad’s projects had never materialized as he spent his life laboring at his backbreaking job as IVA’s head custodian.
Joshua hadn’t made it any easier on the man. He’d constantly gotten into fights after school and around town. A group of guys, knowing his dad was a janitor—and a Navajo to boot—had hounded him since elementary school.
Knowing which buttons to push, they’d counted on getting a reaction from Joshua and had rarely been disappointed. Eventually, he won enough fights to earn respect, and that had somewhat toned down his defensiveness.
After high school he’d left to pursue his own goals, and somewhere along the way his dad’s time on earth had run out. Adam Nez’s dreams were just another footnote in the history of a man who’d done his best with what
