The Husband She Can't Forget

“Is she sick?”

“She said she’s just tired. At least, that’s what she told Mom.”

“I’d better check on her.” Hearing that Era Salyer was napping instead of working was like learning the sun had decided not to rise one morning. It simply didn’t happen. “Can you finish up here?”

“Sure.”

Carly scooped her cell phone out of her pocket and called Era, but there was no answer. She grabbed a basket and filled it with fresh produce.

Carly hurried to one of the four-wheelers and rode down the highway, being careful to keep her slower vehicle at the edge of the pavement.

At the mailbox marked Salyer, she turned in and made her way over the rutted lane, which wasn’t in much better shape than her own. She stopped in front of Era’s small house, noting the unaccustomed sight of dry and drooping roses and hydrangeas. At the side of the house, the plot that usually held Era’s lush vegetable garden was choked with weeds.

Carly hurried to the front door. A scuffling noise followed her knock and, after a pause, Era called out, “Who is it?”

“It’s Carly Joslin, Mrs. Salyer. I haven’t seen you in a while so I wanted to see how you’re doing.”

Instead of opening the door wide as was her custom and embracing her, Era opened it only as far as the guard chain would allow and peeped out.

“Oh, hi, Carly. How are you?”

“I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about.” Carly tried to look past the older lady, but could see nothing in the dim room—a room whose windows had always been open to light and air. She brought her attention back to Era, noting that her face seemed thinner.

“I’m fine. Nothing wrong with me, honey. Just a little tired.”

Carly held up the basket. “I brought you some vegetables and some berries.”

Era frowned. “Berries? Oh, I thought you already left me some...”

When her voice trailed off, Carly asked, “Thought I left you what?”

“Oh, oh, nothing. I...don’t know what I was going to say.” She looked up and smiled. “Thank you, honey. Just leave it on the porch. I don’t want to open the door because... I might have a cold and I don’t want to get you sick, too.”

Carly blinked and did as the older lady asked, setting down the basket as she said, “Era, please let me know if you need anything. Really, anything at all.”

“I will, hon. Thank you.”

Before Carly could say another thing, Era closed the door. The dead bolt clicked into place.

Puzzled, Carly walked slowly to her four-wheeler.

“This is so strange,” she whispered. She couldn’t recall a single time when Era had behaved this way. A widow for many years, she had lost her only son to an oilfield accident a few years ago. In spite of those hardships, she had always seemed content with her life. She was hardworking and independent and had been friendly and welcoming to her neighbors.

Carly couldn’t think of anything that would have caused such a change in her, unless she really was sick.

She glanced over her shoulder to see that Era was holding back one of the living room curtains to give a reassuring wave and a smile.

It was as if she didn’t want Carly around but didn’t want her to worry, either.

Deciding to call again in a few days, or to send someone, Carly drove home and reported the visit to Sheena, who said she would tell her mom about it.

Jay returned from town with the truck and the three of them were finished by noon. Since Sheena lived on the outskirts of Reston, less than three miles away, she rode home on her bicycle, leaving Carly and Jay to load the last delivery onto the truck.

When they were done, she said, “Jay, I can take this to the restaurant. I’ve got to go into Toncaville, anyway.”

He grinned. “Did your favorite secondhand store get a new delivery of beat-up furniture?”

Teasingly, she narrowed her eyes at him. “I think you’ve been working for me too long. You know me too well.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. I’m pretty sure I deserve a raise.”

She only laughed and waved him off as he mounted his motorcycle, but he paused before putting on his helmet. “Um, Carly, did you pick any of the blueberries yet?”

“Only a few to take to Mrs. Salyer. She loves my berries. Why?”

“I don’t know, just seems like there aren’t as many on the bushes as there were a few days ago.” He rubbed his chin, where he was attempting to grow his scraggly few whiskers into a beard. “’Course, it might be rabbits, skunks, squirrels.”

“Animals that can open the protective chicken-wire cages?” Carly asked.

“Nah, I guess not. Besides, I didn’t see any tracks.” With a shrug, Jay put on his helmet, started the engine and roared away.

Carly smiled as she watched him go. A raise was in the near future, but she wasn’t quite sure when it would happen. He was a good employee and she was going to miss him when he went to college in the fall of next year. In the meantime, she would take a look at the blueberry bushes, as soon as she got the chance.

After making sure the produce was shielded from the sun beneath a damp cloth, Carly rushed inside to shower and change for the trip into town.

When she opened her closet, she didn’t grab shorts to go with the turquoise tank top she’d pulled over her head, but instead took out a dark purple peasant skirt with an asymmetrical hem that fell to midcalf.

She held it up and admired the beautiful color. Lisa had dragged her to Tulsa on a shopping spree, insisting that Carly needed to wear something besides work clothes and boots. Carly had argued she had nowhere to wear skirts like this. Lisa, who worked in real estate and dressed up every day, insisted she could invent a reason.

“Invent a reason?” Carly had asked.

Looking at the beautiful skirt now, Carly thought there was no reason to wear it. She would only be dropping vegetables off at a restaurant, then making a quick stop at The Classy Junque Trunk to look for items she could freshen up and resell at Upcycle—once she actually decided on a space.

She slipped it on and twirled in front of the mirror. No reason to wear such a dressy skirt, except that she loved it and sometimes, like last night, she needed to dress like a girl. Grabbing her purse, she hurried outside, locked the door and turned around, only to see Luke Sanderson’s truck stopped beside hers and him stepping out.

CHAPTER FOUR (#ucc99e727-5c38-55d1-bea2-9a06ee719293)

LUKE REMOVED HIS sunglasses and his gaze swept over her as he smiled. “Hi, Carly. Hope you don’t mind that I stopped by again.”

Her surprise at seeing him gave way to an unexpected flush of heat. “Um, well, no,” she said, but she frowned uncertainly. There was no way to stop him. There wasn’t a gate on her drive, no fence across the front where she could attach one.

“Good.” As he stepped forward he removed an envelope from his shirt pocket and handed it to her. “There’s something I need to talk to you about, and I forgot to give you this when I brought the trunk. It’s from my grandmother and it’s addressed to both of us.” He gave a small shrug and the corner of his mouth kicked up. “We’re supposed to open it together, but it looks like you’re getting ready to go somewhere.”

“I have a delivery in Toncaville, then I have a stop to make before I come back here.”

“Maybe we could set a time and I could come back tomorrow.” He watched her, his light brown eyes steady.

“Um, yes, that might be best or...” She glanced down at her dressy skirt. Maybe seeing him again was short-circuiting her common sense, or maybe this was her day for snap decisions. Anxiety tightened her chest but she took a deep breath to calm herself and considered what to do. She didn’t want to see him again, didn’t want the possibility of him returning tomorrow hanging over her head. She knew he was going to come back to this area but didn’t want to see him then, either. On the other hand, she owed a huge debt to Wendolin. Carly tried to manufacture a smile. “Or you could come along with me. You could read the letter and we could talk about it.”