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LIKE A REBEL MARCHING with a resistance, I followed Ida Belle and Gertie to Walter’s general store. “Why do I feel like this is one of those, ‘he loves me, he never loved me’ moments?”
I’d feared the worst. Now, I was staring at that fear with only a bay window separating us. Carter scrubbed his tires until they looked shiny and new. When the good deputy was irritated, it burned in his veins. He could give someone a cold shoulder without so much as a shrug.
“If you don’t move away from the window, he’ll see you gawking.” Walter didn’t look up from his newspaper. He kept reading the obituaries and as his mouth moved, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was trying to imagine how his future epitaph might read or if it was something else. I moved closer to read his lips. It was then when I realized what he was actually whispering.
“Don’t speak to her. She owes you an apology.” He picked up the paper and snapped the pages. “Don’t do it.”
“So you and Ida Belle are on the outs?”
Walter remained hidden. All I could see was his fishing hat and knuckles. “What gave you that idea?”
“Oh I don’t know. Maybe you’re acting like the spoilt kid who got skipped when they handed out free lollipops at the bank.”
He lowered the newspaper and a slow smile crept across his face. “I’ve heard that one before. Either you got that from Gertie or she picked it up from you.”
“What’d she do?”
“Gertie? She has poor choice in company but outside of that?” He returned to his newspaper. “Can’t think of anything today.”
“I’m not talking about Gertie and you know it.”
Walter grunted.
“That bad?”
“Probably.” He folded the periodical and set it aside. “So maybe it wasn’t Ida Belle’s fault. I didn’t bail her out. She had to go through a bondsman. Now she isn’t speaking to me.”
“Yikes.” I would’ve bailed her out. Then again, she didn’t ask. Come to think of it, Gertie hadn’t mentioned a bondsman. I peered around an aisle only to find two covert operatives doing what they did best—concealing their motive for being at Walter’s.
They weren’t there for garden goods.
“Ida Belle? Gertie? We don’t have all day. What do you want Walter to do?”
“I knew it.” He pushed away from the counter and his wobbly barstool tilted over. He quickly caught it before it crashed to the floor. “Have I suffered enough?”
“Suffering would’ve been staying out of the store for a week or more. I’m here.”
“Because you need something.”
Ida Belle narrowed her eyes. Seeing a chance to give back or pay it forward, depending on Ida Belle’s interpretation, I said, “She only needs you, Walter.”
“What’s the going rate for need?” It was Walter’s turn to narrow his gaze. Stubborn to a fault, the pair stayed locked in this knowing exchange until Walter finally smirked and said, “All right. You’ve got yourself a deal.”