The Sheriff's Proposal

She knew he was goading her on purpose. Instead of becoming combative, she asked, “Do you know Ned and Lily Carlson?”

Travis nodded.

“They’re my aunt and uncle. I lived with them on and off when I was growing up. I’m back for a visit.”

Travis grimaced. “Why would you want to visit Willow Valley? There’s nothing there.”

“My aunt and uncle are there, and I love them.”

“It’s a one-horse town.”

“Were you any happier in Richmond?” she asked softly.

His tone turned defensive. “I was on the streets. If I had my own place, it would be a lot better than Willow Valley.”

Her questions for him came from a deep place inside her. She’d never known a real home, and she wondered why he was so anxious to run away from his. “Would it? Or would you get tired of it the same way you got tired of Willow Valley?”

He took his jacket from the back of the chair. “I never liked Willow Valley. It wasn’t my choice to move there.”

“Did you give it a chance?” she asked quietly.

He remained silent and slung his jacket over his arm.

“Sometimes it’s not the place that matters but the people there or the work.”

He studied her curiously. “So what do you do?”

“I’m an interpreter.”

She’d apparently piqued his interest. “Where do you usually live?”

“Washington, D.C.”

Travis’s eyes widened, and he looked impressed.

Logan came back into the room. “Everything’s set. Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’m going to be,” Travis mumbled.

Logan frowned and waited for Travis to stand. The teenager held his ribs. Logan moved forward, then stopped. The expression on Travis’s face told him to stay clear.

If Meg thought the trip to Richmond was tense, the trip home couldn’t be described. Logan asked his son questions about where he’d been, what he’d been doing, and Travis sullenly mumbled a few monosyllables. The muscle working in his jaw, his hands taking a strangle-hold on the wheel, Logan gave up and drove.

An hour from Willow Valley, they passed a few fast-food restaurants. At a red light, Logan asked his son, “Are you hungry?”

“Maybe.”

“Yes or no, Travis.” Meg could tell Logan was at the end of his patience.

“Go ahead and stop. I don’t care where.”

Logan pulled into the next fast-food restaurant.

The silence at the table was deafening as Travis devoured two deluxe burgers and a large order of fries. After a slurp of his milk shake, he checked out Meg again. “Do you travel much with what you do?”

“Quite a bit. I have albums full of pictures. In fact, I’m going to be giving workshops at your high school on some of the places I’ve seen.”

“Yeah?” There was a gleam of interest in his eyes, the same green as Logan’s.

“Your principal and I have been discussing the best way to do it. Probably through social-studies classes. What do you think I can do so I don’t bore everyone?”

Travis shrugged. “Dunno.”

Logan frowned.

Meg didn’t give up. “What would make it interesting for you?”

The teenager thought for a while. “Not just a PowerPoint presentation. But talking about something neat that happened each place.”

Travis had a point. She didn’t want to do a travelogue or a lecture. Getting the kids involved would work the best. “I’ll have to think about that. If you come up with any ideas, let me know.”

His expression was doubtful.

“I mean it.”

Travis settled back in his seat with his milk shake.