the steps of her front porch. The fresh air pulled her back to the present and out of the dark thoughts that had plagued her all morning.
She waved at Mrs. Lucas across the street, one of the few neighbors on this end of Dawson Avenue. Avenue was a little overstated. The road led from the feed store to nowhere. There were a total of five houses, most with land. Mr. Gordon raised a few calves. Taylor Green raised sheep. Mrs. Lucas seemed to raise cats, and lots of them.
The cats could usually be found sunning themselves on her porch, and sometimes they moved across the street to Mia’s. Mia had never been fond of cats. But she did like Mrs. Lucas, so she didn’t complain. As long as the cats didn’t bother the birds Mia fed.
It was a short, five-minute walk to the Mad Cow. Mia took it easy, having learned her lesson from her jogging adventure a few days ago. Her arm had ached all night after that little escapade. She’d called her doctor and he’d lectured her about the damage she could have done. Lesson learned.
The parking lot of the Mad Cow was packed with farm trucks, cars and even a couple of tractors.
Mia walked up the sidewalk of the black-and-white-spotted building and someone opened the front door. She smiled at one of the local farmers and he pushed the door wide for her to enter.
“Mia Cooper, been a long time since you was in town. How’s that arm doing?” The farmer, Ben, toothpick in the corner of his mouth, smiled and let the door close with both of them inside.
“I’m good.” Mia glanced around the crowded diner. She regretted the impulsive decision to come here at noon. People were looking her way. A few whispered.
“Guess you’ll be around, getting better after that fall?”
She smiled and didn’t correct him on the assumption that she’d fallen. For years people thought she worked at an office in Tulsa and sometimes traveled.
“I’ll be around for a while.”
Ben pulled the toothpick from his mouth. “You ever think about doing a barrel-racing clinic? I’ve got a girl who would love to ride. Jackson even has a horse she’s interested in. Trouble is, I ain’t never been much of a hand with horses.”
Barrel-racing clinic?
“Well, I haven’t ever thought about it, Ben.”
“Well, if you do, you let me know. I can’t think of anyone better than a national champion to teach the girls around here.”
“Thanks, I’ll keep you posted.”
The toothpick went back in Ben’s mouth, as the conversation seemed to be over. Mia glanced around the crowded restaurant with the black-and-white-tile floors, old Formica-topped tables and booths with seats covered in black vinyl that always got hot and stuck to the back of a person’s legs. She loved this place. She remembered the first time she came here with the Coopers. It had been on a Sunday after church.
On that Sunday so long ago, for the first time in her life she hadn’t been hungry. That was a memory. She hadn’t been the one in charge of making sure everyone ate. She’d sat at the table between Jackson and Reese. Heather had been across from her, smiling, trying to get her to smile. She’d eaten fried chicken. Vera had given her ice cream.
She remembered being afraid that it would all end, that the state would come looking for her and drag her back to her old house. She remembered worrying that wherever Juan and Breezy were, they might not be getting fed, because she wasn’t there to care for them.
“Sis, over here.” She glanced to the back corner and spotted Jackson and Travis. And Slade McKennon.
Just like old times. But not.
She walked to their booth and Jackson pointed at the seat next to Slade. He scooted and she sat down next to him. His arm brushed hers as he lifted his glass of tea. She reached past him for a menu.
He smelled good. Soap and something like a scent of the Orient tangled up in the mountains of Colorado. She didn’t linger but opened the menu and studied a list she’d seen too many times in her life.
“Ben ask you to teach his girl?” Jackson asked, pushing his glass of tea for the waitress to refill.
Travis moved his glass in the same direction. The waitress, a pretty girl with a big smile and blond hair streaked with pink, smiled at Slade. He didn’t seem to notice.
“Yes. A barrel-racing clinic? I don’t know where he got an idea like that.” Mia happened to look up from her menu and her gaze connected with her brother Travis’s. And he happened to look quickly at Jackson before taking a bite of biscuits and gravy.
Mia shook her head and refocused from the biscuits covered in sausage gravy to Jackson and his obviously guilty look.
“You did this?” She put her menu down and glared at Jackson.
He shrugged. “You might as well.”
“Really? Why is it that I might as well? I do have a job.”
“You’re not going to be working for a while. There’s a need. You’re just about the best.”
She arched her brows at him and smiled. “Just about?”
“You are the best,” he corrected. “Slade, what do you think?”
“I think I don’t have a dog in this fight and it’s a lot safer that way.”
Mia glanced his way, avoiding looking too deep into his gray eyes. She ignored yesterday’s five o’clock shadow on the smooth plane of his cheeks. He looked tired.
“Late night?” She looked back to the menu after asking the question.
“Yeah. And an early morning. My mom hasn’t been feeling too hot and she won’t go to the doctor.”
Mia smiled. “That McKennon family stubbornness.”
“I guess.”
Travis let his fork drop noisily on his plate. “I should get back to the house.”
“How’s Elizabeth.”
“Pregnant?”
“I know that.” Mia smiled up at the waitress. “Pueblo salad with ranch. Water to drink.”
“Okay.” The waitress smiled at Slade again. “You all done with that?”
He passed her his empty plate. Travis held his up and the waitress ignored him and walked off. Mia snorted a laugh and looked at Slade.
“So, is the waitress a friend of yours?” She regretted the question as soon it left her mouth. Talk about testy. She would blame it on lack of sleep.
“No, she isn’t.” Slade shook his head. “Seriously, Mia, she’s barely twenty.”
“Right. It’s none of my business.”
Jackson made a big deal of looking at his watch. “I should go.”
Travis
