Page 46 of Wyoming True

He beamed. “Well!”

“I guess it comes from spending so much time alone.”

“How about social media?” he asked.

“Twitter.”

He named a few others.

She shook her head. “I don’t mix well,” she replied. “And I wouldn’t air my dirty linen online, no matter how popular it is.”

“I feel the same way.”

They walked some more. She still had her pretty seashell in one hand. She turned it over in her fingers and looked at it. She knew that she’d keep it forever. And every time she looked at it, she’d remember walking on the beach in St. Augustine with Jake.

THEYWEREALMOSTback at the restaurant when he spotted something in the surf. He let go of her hand to retrieve it.

His was a tiny spiral seashell, but it also had the delicate pink coloring inside. He gave it to her.

“It’s pretty,” she said.

He took it back, to her surprise. “Souvenir,” he said absently and stuck it in his shirt pocket without further comment.

She felt odd. Happy. Safe. But her emotions were in turmoil. She wasn’t sure what was happening to her. She wasn’t sure she liked it, either.

They went back home with a strange silence between them. It was pleasant, but disturbing. The ease of speaking to one another seemed to have been replaced with an odd restlessness. Ida didn’t understand why. But she smiled and made small talk just to relieve the tension.

JAKE’SCHAUFFEURWASwaiting for them at the Catelow airport. He drove them back to Ida’s small ranch.

They sat apart in the back seat.

“Thank you so much for lunch,” Ida said as the ranch house came into view. “It was kind of you to ask me along. I’ve never tasted food that was so good.”

“Same here.” He was being pleasant, but there was something different under the surface, like currents under a calm sea.

The limo pulled up in front of her door. The lights were all off. The house looked lonely and cold and somehow foreboding.

Jake came around to help her out of the car and walked her up onto the porch.

She hesitated. She didn’t know why. She felt something, like a shiver going down her spine.

Jake looked down at her with eyes she couldn’t see. His face was in shadow, but she felt anger in him.

“Thanks again,” she began.

He stuck his hands in his pockets. It kept him from doing what he wanted to do. “No problem.”

“Good night,” she said.

He just nodded.

She turned and started to unlock the door. She hesitated. “I know I locked it...”

He moved her back and pushed open the door, searching for the light switch at the same time.

What met his eyes made him furious.

CHAPTER EIGHT