Chapter Three

The return trip was vastly preferable. Clinging to Nate’s shoulders, his legs locked around Nate’s waist, Ben felt every step Nate took. The shifting of his powerful muscles, supporting Ben with barely a protest, produced a strong response in Ben. He shifted, hoping to alleviate some of the friction.

Nate careened off the path. “Geez, Ben! Warn a guy!” The urgency in Nate’s breathing was entirely at odds with the ease with which he carried Ben.

Interesting. Ben leaned in, keeping his mouth close to Nate’s neck. If he remembered right, this was a sensitive area. “Having trouble?”

He felt the thrill that went through Nate. “That depends. You want to make it back to the house or not?”

“Or not sounds nice―” Ben gloried in the groan Nate was not fast enough to muffle. “―but unless your definition of casual involves fucking in your mother’s garden, we’d better concentrate on reaching the house.” He squeezed Nate’s bicep.

“You’re an evil, evil man, you know that?” Nate released Ben’s legs a moment to adjust his jeans, setting off back down the path with renewed determination.

“This was your idea,” Ben reminded him. “Though I’m no longer convinced we’re doing this for Ethan’s benefit.”

Nate increased his pace, but by the time they reached the garden gate, they were both flushed and out of breath.

Ethan sat on the sofa porch. He shot them one unimpressed look and got up, slamming the screen door behind him.

Nate let Ben slide off his back onto the lawn. “What did I tell you?” He leaned into Ben, his hand lingering on Ben’s back.

“What have I told you boys about minding the door―” Ma appeared in the doorway, a kitchen towel across one arm. She blinked. “Ben. Has Nate been showing you the farm?”

Nate snatched his hand away as if he’d been burned. “Ma! Ben lost his shoes. We came back to look for them.”

Ben shot him a sideways look. I didn’t lose them. “I left them by the door, but they’re not there now.” He tugged at the edge of the T-shirt, aware of Ma’s eyes on them both.

Ma stepped forward, pursing her lips. She looked at Ben’s bare feet, giving the scattering of shoes on the porch a scant glance. “No,” she agreed. “They’re not. Nate, try the back door. And, Ben. Can I have a word?”

It was all over. “Sure.” She’d already figured them out. Ben climbed the steps with a feeling of doom.

Ma led the way down the hall to the spare bedroom in silence. Angry? Of course she was. Nate said she was religious. She probably saw him as some kind of pervert leading her impressionable son to hell―never mind that Nate had done all the leading!

Ma waited for Ben to enter the spare room and then shut the door behind him. “I finished washing your clothes.”

They were spread out on the bed, neatly folded and ironed, and looking better than they had in days. “Thank you!” Ben took a step toward the bed, before collecting himself and turning back to Ma. “I really appreciate this.”

Ma didn’t smile. “I don’t mean to pry, but are you in some sort of trouble?”

Ben froze. The rush of wind in the trees outside suddenly seemed very loud. “What?”

“Your T-shirt.” Ma nodded towards it. “When I was ironing, I noticed there seemed to be a lot of blood on it. Do you need to see a doctor?”

“No!” If he didn’t seem suspicious before, that hasty denial would have done the trick. “No,” Ben repeated, forcing himself to smile. “I’m fine. It looks worse than it actually was.” He felt underneath his voluminous sleeve for the thin ridge that was all that was left of the injury. “It’s already healed. Department Seven had one of their people look at it when they interviewed me.”

Ma didn’t relax. If anything, her mouth got tighter. “Department Seven. They’re the ones in charge of supernatural crime?”

“That’s them.”

“I won’t have my boys involved in anything like that.” Ma pulled her apron straight, smoothing it down as she drew herself up. “We’re law-abiding people here. I don’t want either of my sons involved in anything that’s against church or law. Do you understand me, Ben?” She fixed a sharp stare at him.

She was tiny! Tiny and human, with nothing more behind her words than the force of her personality and love, but Ben found his tongue sticking to the dry roof of his mouth as he nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” As Ma turned toward the door, it felt like a pressure lifted off Ben. “It’s about time for lunch. Change into your clean things and wash your hands. And Ben?”

Ben looked up from his jeans. They were still warm from the iron.

Ma’s hand tightened around the door handle. “I don’t hold with sex before marriage,” she said firmly. “Not while you’re under my roof. I trust you’ll respect that while you’re here.” And clearly feeling she’d made her point, Ma shut the door.

Ben looked down at the jeans in his hands. He absently smoothed out a wrinkle, his mind replaying Ma’s words. She knows. There’s no way she doesn’t know. So much for keeping things casual! Ben bit his lip in an effort to suppress his laugh. How? How had things got so massively out of control?

The sound of chairs being drawn back in the kitchen called Ben back to the present. He unhooked the belt, freeing himself from the borrowed jeans. The familiar rub of his own clothes against his skin brought him slight relief. If nothing else, his jeans were right. With a frown, Ben held out the T-shirt.

Now he was looking for it, the stain was very visible. All down the under seam of his arm, and in patches where it had seeped into the body of his shirt. Not immediately noticeable, but too great a risk to take. I need to go shopping. Fast. Until then…Nate’s shirt is my safest option. Ben felt his mouth curve, despite his discovery. Nate’s likely interpretation of Ben’s choice was an added bonus. Nate’s family’s interpretation of Ben’s choice, however…

Ben groaned. He couldn’t win. It’s like being a vampire all over again.

✩✩✩

“Lunch isn’t anything special.” Ma set a bowl of macaroni and cheese in front of Ben. “If I’d known we’d have a guest…” There was an abruptness to her words that undid their attention.

Still, after a year without food, Ben found the homely macaroni and cheese nothing short of amazing. Ma added frozen vegetables, bacon pieces, and hard-boiled egg to the cheese sauce, making it a hearty meal. There was bread on the side, but Ben never managed to finish his bowl.

Nate and Ethan had both cleared two bowls and a couple of slices of bread when Ben put down his fork.

“Finished? You’ve hardly eaten anything.” Ma frowned at Ben.

He felt very conscious of how thin his arms were, especially compared to Nate, sitting beside him. “It’s delicious. But I can’t eat another bite. I’m full.”

“If you’re sure.” Ma continued to frown at him. “If you want something else, you only have to ask. A cookie perhaps, or some fruit―”

“He’s fine, Ma,” Nate assured her. “Ben eats like a bird. This is the most I’ve seen him eat, ever.”

Ben looked down at his bowl, trying to hide his embarrassment. He thought back over everything he’d eaten since becoming human. Nate’s right. But the bigger realization was that Nate cared enough to notice what Ben ate. Still looking out for me?

“It’s a waste,” Ethan said loudly. “Not eating.” He sat at the opposite end of the kitchen table, glaring at Ben between spoonfuls of macaroni.

“Ethan!” Ma scolded him. “Ben’s our guest, and he hasn’t been very well―”

Oh great. The last thing Ben wanted was to be an invalid. “I’m not―”

“It’s cool, Ethan. Ben doesn’t want it, more for us.” Nate reached over to take Ben’s bowl, and before Ben could react, had spooned the remaining macaroni onto the slice of bread on his plate. He folded the bread around it. “See? Macaroni sandwich. You should try it.”

Ethan gave Nate a sour look. That could have been because Nate followed his statement by putting the sandwich into his mouth in one go, but Ben suspected he was the real cause.

“Nathan! I don’t know what this house is coming to. Between both of your behavior, Ben’s going to think we have no manners at all.” Ma stood, wiping her hands on her skirt as if relieving herself of responsibility for the situation. “Ben, would you like some coffee?”

He was too full to want the coffee, but the macaroni was starting to have a soporific effect. “Yes, please.”

“You go and make yourself comfortable in the lounge.” Ma stepped towards the coffeemaker on the bench. “And Nate―”

“Way ahead of you.” Nate spoke around his sandwich. He stood up, bundling the empty bowls into a stack on top of the collected plates. “I haven’t forgotten all my manners.”

“Just most of them.” Ethan stuck his elbow in Nate’s ribs and then rolled up his sleeves.

“I don’t know what I’ll do with the pair of you.” Ma’s statement was fond rather than exasperated.

Nate grinned back, swallowing the last of his mouthful. “Don’t know what you’d do without us, you mean.” He set the dishes down on the counter, where Ethan was already busy filling the sink.

Ben stood, resting his hands on the back of the chair. “Can I help?”

Nate shook his head, picking up a dishcloth. “Nah. We got this. You’re the guest. Make yourself at home.”

How am I supposed to do that when you treat me like a guest? Ben bit his lip. He caught Ethan’s smirk reflected in the coffeemaker, but there was nothing he could say.

I’m being ridiculous. Ben caught himself pacing the living room. He halted in front of a portrait of a dour matriarch and patriarch and what were presumably their assorted offspring. Breathe out. Nate’s family had their own patterns and habits. He couldn’t expect to be a part of them from day one. It’s a natural reaction. Nate would be just as strange visiting my family. Ben bit his lip. If I still had one.

“Do you take milk or sugar?” Ma set down a tray down on the coffee table.

“Yes, please. To both.” Ben watched Ma stir in his milk with the same spoon she then used in her own cup. The hallmark of magic was precision. If Ma was a witch, she was an unusually careless one. Or wants you to think that. Ben ignored his inner voice to take the cup. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Ma sank back into what was evidently her armchair, judging from the roll of knitting beside it. “Take a seat.”

Ben sized up the options. The remaining armchair looked the most comfortable, but set back from the rest of the furniture, felt somewhat isolating. Instead, he chose the middle of the sofa opposite Ma. He had a moment’s alarm as it sagged, almost spilling his coffee as the cushion gave way beneath him. Not too long, and the sofa might replace the one on the porch.

Ma pursed her lips, but if he’d made some huge social faux pas, she chose not to mention it. Instead, she poured herself a cup of coffee. “Did Nate mention he found your shoes? Seems they were brought inside by accident.”

By an accident named Ethan? “That’s good news.”

Ma settled back in her chair with her coffee. “You mentioned you’re an only child? Brothers like to play jokes on each other. You shouldn’t pay much attention to it.”

This is the second time she’s apologizing for Ethan―and it’s barely noon. “It’s fine. Nate said the same thing.” Ben carefully settled back against the sofa. The cushions welcomed him, but did not give way. “They seem really close, even for brothers.”

“Like two peas.” Ma’s gaze traveled to the wall, a fond smile lightening the hard set of her face. “We had a difficult time telling them apart as kids.”

Ben turned to see what she was looking at. Over the fireplace, among the collection of family photos, was a framed photo of the twins aged no more than seven and dressed in identical shirts and trousers, standing side by side before a letterbox. The house was in the background, the focus clearly on the boys, looking freshly scrubbed and vaguely uncomfortable. “First day of school?” he guessed.

“That’s right.” Ma gave Ben a considering look. “I have some photo albums, if you’re interested.”

Ben set his coffee down immediately. “I’m interested.”

“Beneath the TV.” Ma waved to a shelf of big, leather bound albums. “That red one. It’s the most recent.”

Ben knelt before the TV. The album was heavy and wide, with an embossed leather cover. Clearly a family treasure. “This one?”

Ma held out her hands for the book. She flipped through the pages, finding the picture she wanted with ease. “There. Graduation. You’d hardly know them for the same boys, would you?”

Ben took the album eagerly. High school Nate was too good to pass up. “No way you could confuse them,” he agreed. Nate and Ethan stood side by side in identical shirts and uncomfortable ties, but while Nate grinned broadly, his arm resting around his mother and hair gelled into the style of the moment, Ethan’s wooden expression and stiff posture made his shirt look ill-fitting. They were still obviously brothers, but Ben wasn’t sure he could have identified them as twins with certainty. Ethan’s awkward posture made him look like a younger brother roped into a family photo, while Nate’s confidence put him well above his years. He looked to the fourth figure in the photo. “Is this Pa?”

“That’s Mitch.” Ma held out her hands for the album again. “Nate’s told you about him?”

Ben nodded. “Losing our fathers is something we have in common. Nate helped me a lot.” He hesitated. “I hope this isn’t painful to talk about.”

Ma shook her head. “It’s been years. Still hurts, of course, but it feels good to remember him.” She flicked through the album before finding the picture she wanted. “Mitch wasn’t the easiest man to live with, but no other man would have suited me so well. People tell me its stubbornness on my part, but I don’t believe I’ll find another like him, so why look? Ethan keeps me company, and Nate does too―when he remembers to call.”

“You offering to buy me a new phone? I won’t say no.” Nate wandered into the living room, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Talking about Pa?” He spotted the album on Ma’s lap and froze. “Ma! You’re not boring Ben with photos, are you?”

“Don’t be so rude.” Ma passed the album back across the table. “Ben’s enjoying your photos.”

“I certainly am.” And even if he hadn’t, the look of horror on Nate’s face was too good not to make the most of. Ben looked down at the album quickly to hide his smirk.

This time, the album showed the family seated on the porch, just like the old portrait Ben had been looking at earlier. Ma sat primly at the side of a man just as wiry as she was, with round glasses and a surprisingly bald head. He had his hands planted on his knees and his legs apart, suggestive of an expansive personality. Ethan and Nate stood behind them, looking uncomfortable in shirts buttoned all the way to their necks. “Special occasion?”

“Mitch’s last birthday.” Ma blew steam off her coffee and took an unhurried sip. “Remember, Nate? It was a year more than the doctors told him he could have. Gave himself full credit for that.”

“Yeah, I remember.” Nate apparently resigned himself to his fate, plonking himself down on the sofa beside Ben. “Look at us all. You’d never guess we were enjoying ourselves.”

“You look very nice,” Ma said immediately. “It’s lovely to have a picture of the two of you looking like gentlemen for once.”

“I think you look charming,” Ben added helpfully.

Nate gave him an unimpressed look. “You can’t even tell which of us is me.”

“Want to bet?” The twins were uniform in their discomfort, but Ben tapped the twin standing closest to Pa without any hesitation. “This is you.”

Nate was nonplussed. “How’d you know?”

“Only one of you bothered to comb your hair.”

“It was such a hassle getting Ethan into the shirt that we gave up on his hair,” Ma said. “I’d almost forgotten that. Fancy you noticing.” The look she gave Ben was speculative.

Nate took the album, flicking backward. “Try it again. Can you tell who is who here?”

It was clearly a school trip. Ethan and Nate wore backpacks and hats and were surrounded by students similarly attired. It was break time, and the twins were seated next to each other, wearing identical expressions of boredom but looking in different directions.

Ben didn’t miss a beat. “You’re on the left.” Looking at their classmates. “Ethan’s on the right.” Staring fixedly ahead, as if counting the minutes until he could leave.

“Got it again. When’d you learn us so well?”

“I just spent sixteen hours in a car with the two of you.” Ben flicked through the photo album with interest. High school Nate was just as he’d imagined him. He’d escaped the awkwardness that had plagued Ben’s teenage years, confidently facing the camera. He was less polished, lacking the sophistication and sense of style he’d developed at Century, but the earnest charm that so attracted Ben was there in abundance. Photos of school or community events showed him as part of a group of students, equally tanned and cheerful. Ethan, when present, ignored the camera as he did everyone else.

“Let’s find you a real challenge.” The sofa dipped wildly as Nate stood up. He knelt in front of the TV cabinet, digging through the books. “How about this one?” He sat next to Ben, spreading the album across both their knees.

Nate and Ethan must have been around twelve or thirteen, with shaggy haircuts that fell over their eyes. Dressed identically in long flannel shirts that obscured the T-shirts they wore, one looked at the camera with a startled expression, while his brother clutched his arm, wearing an expression of deep unease.

Ben frowned at the photograph. In their own ways, both twins were very individual. Seeing them so young wasn’t as shocking as seeing them so similar. For the first time, he hesitated.

“Your first day of high school?” Ma nursed her cup. “You know, I’m not sure I could tell you apart.”

Ben laid a finger on the boy looking at the camera. “Ethan.” He tapped the other one. “You.”

“How on earth did you get that?”

Ben lifted his own cup. “That’s my secret.” Nate cared a lot about people. Ethan not so much. If either twin worried about what people thought of him, it would be Nate.

“You just guessed.” Nate flipped through the rest of the album.

Ben had a flash of forewarning. He looked up to find Ethan looming over him. Ben drew back, but with the photo album on his lap and his coffee in his hands, he couldn’t move. He just managed to stop his coffee from spilling as Ethan shouldered his way between Ben and Nate, taking up his position in the middle of the sofa.

“Geez, Ethan! Some warning?” Nate grabbed the album just before it slid off his lap.

Ethan grabbed the remote from the coffee table. Any further comment was drowned out by the blaring TV.

Ben cautiously lowered his coffee cup. He craned his neck back to catch Nate’s expression.

Nate shot his brother a look of mingled annoyance and fondness. He caught Ben’s glance and lifted his elbows as if to say ‘what can you do?’

Ben narrowed his eyes. This is getting beyond a joke.

The sudden silence was just as loud as the TV had been. Ma removed her hand from the TV’s power switch. “Ethan Granger. I taught you better manners than that.” She fixed him with a meaningful glare and then turned to Nate. “Why don’t you take Ben into Little River?”

“Aren’t we in Little River?” Ben asked.

Nate patted his arm as he stood. “She means the shops. Not a bad idea. You’ll probably want to pick up a toothbrush, stuff like that.”

Ben resisted the urge to run his tongue over his teeth. “That sounds great.”

Nate led the way down the hall. “Don’t get too excited. Little River is―”

“Little. You may have mentioned it.” Ben patted his back pocket to make sure his wallet was there. A town. With shops. And toothbrushes.

“Whatever expectations you have now? Lower them.” Nate held the door open.

“I’m legitimately excited about a toothbrush.” Ben looked down at his shoes. They looked no worse for whatever adventure they’d been on. “I don’t see how anything could get lower than that.”

✩✩✩

Little River more than lived up to its name. The road crossed the river at what Nate explained was the border between their property and the next and then continued to follow it down through the valley, taking in numerous twists and a railway crossing before descending a hill and revealing a scattering of buildings either side of the road.

Ben had just decided this must be the outskirts when Nate pulled the truck off the road and onto the large stretch of concrete before the nearest building. “This is Little River?” He frowned out the window. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“Told you.” Nate grinned as he slid out of the truck, but there was a worried frown that didn’t quite leave his eyes. “We like to think of it as convenient.” He waited for Ben to join him, waving his hand across the road. “That’s Town Hall―fire, police, and library, all in one.”

“And library?” The building was straight out of the 1930s, art deco stucco, with a grand façade and nothing much behind it, but its paint had been redone sometime in the last decade. “If you return a book late, do you get fined or arrested?”

“I’ve never been curious enough to find out. But at least we have a library.” Nate waved his hand in the direction of the mountains. “Hearn doesn’t have one at all.”

Even here, in the middle of what Nate optimistically called ‘town,’ the mountains could be seen. Ben looked at them a moment, one solid dark-green mass, before turning to see where Nate pointed now.

“The school. It only goes up to sixth grade. Then there’s the Lutheran Church. And on this side of the road, we got the business district―gas station, general store and farm supplies. Baptist church is down the road, along with the cemetery.”

Ben looked. He estimated there were four times the number of houses as businesses, and that still wasn’t saying much. Beyond the houses, the patchwork of fields continued. An occasional silo provided color. “Where did you go for high school?”

“Rockford. There’s a bus.”

The houses were similar, variations on a theme that included a porch, a prim fence, and a truck with mud-splashed wheels in the yard. “When you said ‘shops,’ did you actually mean ‘shop’?”

“The gas station sells ice creams and fish bait. And if you wanted, you could buy a tractor from the supplier.” Nate tugged at his T-shirt collar. “But, if you’re talking shops that sell toothbrushes, then yeah, there’s only the one.” He grimaced. “Look at it this way. Maybe we’re not spoiled for choice, but we don’t take hours getting the shopping done either.”

Ben, who could spend days happily weighing different models of laptop against each other before making a purchase, raised an eyebrow. “I’m not convinced that’s an advantage.” He nudged Nate with his elbow so he’d know he was teasing. “So. Toothbrushes?”

There was a bell, an actual brass bell, hanging over the door to the general store. As soon as Nate opened the door, an older man with a scraggly salt-and-pepper beard, wearing denim overalls liberally splattered with oil, stopped his conversation with the young woman behind the store counter.

“Wanting to fill up?” he asked, looking at Ben. Then, his eyes traveled to Nate, and something in his expression cooled.

“Hey, Dan.” Nate nodded in his direction, before turning to the woman. “Rose. Been a while.”

“Nate! Now this is a surprise.” Dan slapped Nate on the arm. “Didn’t realize you were home.” Had Ben imagined that coolness? He was all smiles now.

“Just visiting.” Nate motioned to Ben. “This is Ben, a friend of mine from the city. Brought him here for some peace and quiet.”

Friend? Ben started. He had to tell Nate about the conversation with his mother.

“Peace and quiet? You’ll get all you want of that and more,” Dan observed.

Nate continued the introductions. “Dan runs the gas station. But if he’s not at the pumps, chances are good he’s in here, having a yarn. Rose and her husband run the store.”

“Nice to meet you, Ben.” Rose was a welcoming lady, a few years older than Nate with feathery blonde hair. “You staying long?”

Ben smiled politely. “I’m not really sure yet.”

“You’ll find it quiet,” Dan warned. “City people always do.”

“That’s why he’s here,” Nate said. “You can have too much city.”

“I wondered what your brother was doing, going to New Camden like that. Fetching you, was he?” Dan resettled himself on the counter.

Nate leaned an arm against the counter, making himself at home. “That’s right. New Camden’s crazy right now. It feels good to be back home where nothing happens, but at least you know it’s safe.”

Ben, scraping the bottom of his social reservoirs in a vain attempt to find something to say, saw Rose’s expression shift, and she glanced at a flyer, pinned up amongst the store calendar and other notices. Do you know who killed Olivia Winkler?

A murder case? I didn’t hear anything about this. With a start, Ben realized that he hadn’t watched the news or read a paper in days.

“Man, Rose. I’m so sorry―I wasn’t even thinking!” Nate straightened belatedly.

She shook her head. “It’s old news now.” She saw Ben’s confusion. “Olivia and I were in the same class at high school. We weren’t friends, but you can imagine the impact a death has in a small community like ours.”

“She was from Rockford.” Dan turned to look at the flyer. “Yeah, I remember that. Sad case. You would have still been at elementary then, Nate?”

“Just started high school,” Nate said. “So we knew her, but only by sight. She was the quiet type, always kept to herself.”

Rose nodded. “That was Olivia all right. If you weren’t in a book, she wasn’t interested in you. The last person in the world you’d expect to get murdered, but there you go. It’s a cruel world we live in.”

Ben took a closer look at the poster. The grainy black and white photo showed a teenage girl sulking at the camera in the fashions of a decade ago. Below that, a plea for anyone with information to contact the police was followed by a reward. “An unsolved case?”

“They really think there’s anything to find?” Nate asked.

“It’s been ten years,” Dan said. “The family’s desperate for closure. You can’t blame them for trying anything they can.” He sighed, shaking his head. “For all the good it will do.” His eyes brightened. “You hear about Scott’s new irrigation system?”

Nate shook his head. “Last I heard he’d decided against it. What changed his mind?”

Dan leaned back. “Managed to swing a state subsidy. Part of a new scheme. Heard about it? Aimed at encouraging farmers to diversify.”

“Yeah?” Nate straightened. “How’d you find out about this?”

The discussion quickly became technical. Deciding that they would probably be at it a while, Ben walked down the aisles.

The first four shelves were everything you’d expect from a supermarket―flour, pasta, cereal and baking powder, followed by laundry powder, shampoo, and household cleaner. Ben found a toothbrush and toothpaste. After that, the general store lived up to its name. There were clothes, gardening tools, seeds, DVDs, fans, cutlery, and more, crammed tightly into any remaining room.

The clothing selection was scant. Ben looked up at the T-shirts hanging from the ceiling. The options were washed-out blue or faded black. Small choice doesn’t help when neither of your options are good. Ben finally decided on the black T-shirt. He added a five-pack of briefs to his basket and hesitated in front of the stationary. A notebook wasn’t exactly going to break the bank, was it? He put it in the basket, added a pen, and returned to the register where Nate was still talking.

Rose rang up Ben’s items without pausing her conversation. “You’re very popular suddenly, Nate. We had a man in here asking after you just the day before yesterday.”

“Yeah?” Nate leaned his arm against a rack of all-weather coats. “Someone from school?”

Rose shook her head. “He wasn’t a local.”

“Sure I’ve seen him somewhere before,” Dan said. “Asked after your family, but it was your address he was looking for. Seems like he was planning on heading to New Camden anyway, thought he might as well look you up.”

“New Camden’s a long way to go just to look someone up,” Nate said.

“That’s what I said.” Dan settled back against the counter. “He said it was nothing to him. Thought he might have been a stock truck driver. It’s been years since you sold your cattle, right?”

“I guess he could have been someone from the Scouts. Ethan and I went to a couple of jamborees.”

Rose shook her head decidedly, deftly ringing up Ben’s total without missing a beat of the conversation. “He wasn’t from the Scouts. Not with hair like his.”

Nate was already packing Ben’s shopping into a bag. The toothpaste slipped out of his fingers. “Was he blond? With green eyes?”

Rose nodded. “Very striking, his eyes. And politely spoken, for all he dressed like one of those alternative lifestylers.” She accepted the bill Ben handed her and gave him his change.

Dan stroked his beard. His eyes lingered on the toothpaste Nate dropped on the counter and on Ben. “Know him?”

“We had a farmhand for a season. After Pa’s surgery.” Nate’s tone was casual, as he resumed packing Ben’s shopping. “Expect he was hoping for work.”

Dan snorted. “Well, he didn’t get any out of your brother.”

Nate paused. “Ethan talked to him?”

“I wouldn’t call it a conversation.” Dan’s eyes glittered. “Whatever your brother said to him, he didn’t like. Hurried into his car, and if he was going less than sixty when he pulled out of here, I’ll eat my hat.” He chuckled. “Got to hand it to Ethan. Your brother’s really got a way with people.”