hair. It was a little wild today.
“Nothin’,” he said. “Just can tell you’re not from around here, Red.”
I bristled at his comment. “How so?”
“We don’t lock our cars out here.” He pushed into the shop, and the bell on the door clanged loudly.
“Great,” I muttered and started inside, leaving my doors firmly locked.
Once within the building, I immediately caught a strong whiff of dust. Already sensing my asthma being triggered, I pulled my inhaler from my coat pocket and sucked in a deep breath. I instantly felt better.
I walked over the thin brown layer of dirt covering the cement aisles, searching for dog food amongst all of the feed and medicine for livestock like chickens, horses, and cattle. It was like being in a different world.
Did this store sell the types of things my parents warned against? Were the people here all a part of the problem my mom said caused my illness?
Everyone else here seemed so purposeful, like they’d been here at least a hundred times before and knew exactly where to go. Me? No. I walked down almost every aisle, without being asked by an associate if I needed help, until I found the right brand of chow for Rosie’s golden retriever.
I matched my mom’s messy handwriting with one of the labels on the bag and hefted it over my shoulder. I wasn’t freaky strong or fit, but I held my own at the store, especially when my parents needed extra help with a shipment. Like Mom said, we had strong roots.
On my way to the lone register up front, I took in the person checking out. Muddy jeans, frayed at the hems, worn cowboy boots, black cowboy hat, and a battered tan coat that had clearly seen plenty of work on the farm.
But then I caught sight of the way his jeans fit his backside, and I was quickly wishing I had a free hand to fan my face. Hello, cowboy. Maybe I should offer to drive to Heywood more often...
I stepped up to the register and put my dog food on the counter as he took his bags.
He glanced at me, and my mouth almost fell open. “Ray?” I said. I could have kicked myself for thinking even one positive thing about him.
He cleared his throat and nodded like he’d rather be anywhere else. That made two of us.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
He held up a medicine bottle. “Got a sick cow. Have to give her some of those horrible antibiotics. Or would you rather I let her suffer?”
My mouth fell open, but I realized I didn’t have anything to say. With all the tension around his eyes, I couldn’t. He was worried about his animal.
He gave me a long, hard look and walked away.
A beep sounded, and I looked to see the cashier pointing a scanner at the bar code on the dog food bag. “Will that be all for you?”
I turned toward him and nodded. I’d had enough.
Twelve
“How was Heywood?” Cori asked as we got ready for bed.
I shrugged and got under my covers. “It was fine except I saw this guy from school there, and he was completely rude.”
Even though all the lights were off save for the lamps on our bedside tables, I could see the interest light her face. I never talked about guys, even rude ones. “Who was it?” Her bed squeaked as she got into it.
“Ray Sadler.” I said his name like it disgusted me, because it did. I couldn’t get his judgement of me off my mind. “He’s been a jerk to me since the semester started.”
“What did he say?” She already sounded grumpy, her protective streak coming out.
“It wasn’t what he said; it was how he acted.”
“Like what?” she asked, propping her head on her hand so she could see me.
I made a mean mug and sent it her way.
She cringed and sucked in a breath. “Ouch. Why did he do that?”
“Maybe because we’ve been arguing all week about production agriculture.”
“What?” She snorted. “Oh! Is that why you were asking Mom that stuff at dinner?”
“Yup, and of course I got nothing.”
“Go figure.” She lay sideways on her pillow, her face illuminated by the lamp. “So he’s mad why?”
“Because apparently they use antibiotics on their animals.” I got into bed and settled under the covers. “I actually saw him getting some for a sick cow tonight.”
“So what’s the deal?” she said quietly.
I rolled my eyes. “Mom and Dad’s store advertises no antibiotics.”
“Well, you aren’t your parents.”
I