The Man in the Road
“Come on, you can do it, Allison.”
Allison Reyes shook her head as if her best friend could see her through the phone. “It’s not that easy, Celine. What am I supposed to do, walk up to some random guy and say, ‘Hey, I think you’re really cute. Want to come back to my ranch with me tonight?’”
“That’s not quite how I’d do it,” Celine said, “but pretty much.”
Allison groaned. She glanced around, taking in the bar.
The Blue Cicada was quite large for a small town like Torpe.
From her seat in the corner booth, she could see everything, from the other customers at other tables, eating fries and talking with one another over beers, to just past the entrance door and a neon pink sign where half a dozen men stood around a pool table arguing.
She smelled cigarette smoke and scowled at the continuous squeaking of the overhead fans.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been here, and she wouldn’t be here tonight if Celine hadn’t convinced her to get out of the ranch house and grab a drink or two.
If she’d known the real reason her friend had urged her to come here, she’d probably be in bed by now, preparing for just another slow, boring morning on Reyes Ranch.
Allison tightened her grip on her glass, and her cocktail sloshed around a bit. “I’m not even dressed like I belong in a bar,” she said. “I’m wearing a summer dress, Celine.”
At forty-three, Allison never imagined she would find herself sitting by herself in a corner booth in some small-town bar, but life had a funny way of messing with you, dealing you cards you never expected.
At her age, she should be at home on the ranch with her husband.
But the world was unfair. Sometimes, all you could do was be grateful that things were as good as they were.
“I’m not sure I can do this,” Allison said.
“Sure, you can,” Celine assured her. “And I’m here to make sure of that.”
“ Here ? You’re not even in Torpe, Celine. You’re all the way in New Hampshire.”
There was a momentary pause. “Touché.”
Allison could barely resist smirking. She and Celine Carter had been friends for the past three decades.
They’d both grown up in Torpe and had met in high school.
Since then, they’d been pretty much inseparable, even when they went to college.
It wasn’t until after they’d both graduated that they went their separate ways.
Celine had stayed in Chicago, where they’d both studied and Allison, preferring peacefulness and familiarity, had returned to Torpe.
Despite being so close, she and Celine had always been different. Celine was the more outgoing, adventurous type, always seeking greener pastures and newer thrills. Right now, she has a corporate job in the city. Allison, on the other hand, was more attuned to rural life, which Torpe provided.
“Allison,” Celine said, “you need to move on. You’re a beautiful elfish woman—”
“I’m only half-elf,” Allison corrected. “More like a quarter elf if I’m being honest. There haven’t been elves in my family since my grandmother.”
“That’s not my point,” Celine told her. “You can’t keep waiting for a husband who left you to magically return.”
Allison winced. She knew her friend didn’t mean to be hurtful with that comment, but it stung anyway.
She’d met Stanley Reyes in college in Chicago. They’d met at a party that Celine had practically dragged her to. As it turned out, Stanley wasn’t having fun either.
Over the next few weeks, they got to know each other better. Allison was surprised to learn that Stanley had also grown up in Torpe, although their paths had never crossed.
It wasn’t long before they started dating. Their mutual attraction was intense and impossible to ignore. Stanley was kind, funny, and intelligent, not to mention easy on the eye.
They got married after they graduated college. Like Allison, Stanley had every intention of moving back to Torpe in hopes of carrying on his family’s ranch business. For the next thirteen years or so, they’d lived together on that ranch in bliss.
But then suddenly, everything had turned upside down.
It began with a simple argument, one of many they’d had over the course of their marriage. Allison couldn’t remember what it was even about. All she knew was that four years ago, Stanley had disappeared while riding his horse on the ranch property as he often did to clear his mind.
He never returned to the house that night or even the next day. By the second day, she was beside herself with worry. Stanley hadn’t even called or sent a text. It wasn’t like him. She struggled not to dwell on the thought that something might have happened to him.
As the days passed, she found herself unable to keep waiting in the hope he would return and decided to alert the police.
They organized a search party, and for days—or was it weeks—they scoured the entire town looking for any sign of Stanley Reyes.
They had no luck. It was almost as if he’d vanished into thin air.
Or skipped town.
Whatever the case, Allison grew more uneasy.
If he’d been murdered or had an accident and died, there would’ve been some trace of him in Torpe.
But there had been no sign of Stanley or the horse he’d been riding the last time she saw him.
The only plausible explanation for his disappearance was that he’d taken off, but no one in town had seen anyone riding through the streets on a horse.
He was simply ... gone.
Allison had to admit that she’d been a complete mess when he first vanished.
For two years, she experienced a deep melancholy and seldom left Reyes Ranch.
At times, she would find herself sitting on the front porch and staring out at the barns and the expanse of grassy field, half-expecting her long-lost husband to magically appear with open arms, gleaming blue eyes, and a big smile on that face she loved to gaze at so much.
It had taken support from Celine and a few of the townsfolk for Allison to pull herself together. And even now, after four years since Stanley’s disappearance, it still hurt to think about what had happened.
Allison supposed it wouldn’t have been so terrible if she’d at least gotten the closure of understanding why he’d disappeared.
There were so many possible reasons, none of which she wished to entertain for too long.
She wasn’t sure which had pierced her heart more: the fact that he’d vanished out of the blue or that he hadn’t bothered to reach out to her, not even once.
“I have moved on,” she told Celine, feeling fairly foolish even as she said the words and knowing her friend would roll her eyes at her.
“Allison, you still use his last name. You need to really move on, turn your life around, find someone new to talk to.”
Allison sighed. “I guess you’re right. But where do I even begin?”
“Well,” Celine said, “coming to the bar was a good start, although being on your phone the whole time doesn’t exactly scream available to the guys there.”
“Being on my phone is probably the only reason I’m still sitting here,” Allison countered. “This isn’t my style. I’m not exactly one for bars.”
“You’d rather sit alone in that old ranch house?”
“Well ... it’s peaceful there. Not much going on.”
“To be fair, there’s not much going on in this town anyway . See why I asked you to come to New Hampshire last year?”
Allison pressed the phone harder against her ear. “You’ve always been the more outgoing one. I like it here.”
“I’m sure you’ll love it over here.”
Allison raised her cocktail to her lips and took a sip. “The city life’s too chaotic for my liking.”
“And Torpe’s too ... boring for mine. I’m just a girl, you know.”
She frowned. “Celine, you’re a forty-two-year-old woman with two degrees working as a software engineer for one of the biggest companies in the US.”
Her friend snickered. “Jeez, you small-town folk don’t keep up much with social media references, do you?”
“I mean, it’s not like we ...” Alison trailed off, peering over the rim of her glass at the man sauntering across the bar to meet her. “Uh, we have a problem.”
“What is it?”
“I think there’s a man headed my way.”
She wasn’t wrong. The man’s eyes were on her.
There was no mistaking what that meant. The man was medium height—perhaps slightly taller than she was.
He wore a checkered shirt, jeans, and boots and had a red hat pulled over a shock of hair.
When she met his gaze, he grinned in a way that made her stomach squirm.
“A man?” Celine’s voice had risen an octave. “That’s perfect! I’ll leave you two to talk. I’m going to hang up now. Next time you call me, you’d better have secured a date—”
“Wait, Celine—”
“—or a one-night stand.”
“Wait, what ?”
“Adios!”
The line went dead.
The man reached her booth and took his seat across the table from her. “I hope I didn’t interrupt your phone call.”
Before Allison could respond, he spoke again. “What’s a pretty woman like you doing alone in a bar like this?”
She groaned inwardly. “That’s a line no woman’s ever heard before.”
The man wasn’t bad-looking, but he certainly wasn’t the type of guy she’d give a second glance. His dark gaze darted from her face to her chest and back, and she recoiled slightly.
“I’ve been watching you for a while,” he said. “I figured I’d come and say hi. My name’s Jeff.”
“Hi, Jeff.”
“Say, you’re Allison Reyes, aren’t you? Haven’t seen much of you in a while.”
Of course, he knew who she was. Pretty much everyone knew everyone else in this small town, especially if you’d been here a while.
She clutched her drink almost protectively. “I ... I don’t go out much. I’m mostly on the ranch.”
“Not much to do in this old town, so I get it.” He nodded, his gaze shifting again. He pointed. “What’s that?”
Her hand immediately flew to her chest, and she realized what he’d been referring to.
“Oh, it’s ... it’s a locket.”