in Riverside. She was one of those women who put their sheets in the dryer because she knew damn well they wouldn’t mea sure up.
It was kind of funny that she and Hank had come together. Two misfits aiming for their first real success. And how were they doing it? He wanted to bake pies, and she was writing about a madam. They were outrageous.
They walked until they came to a stream. “Goose Creek,” Hank said. “My land ends here. When I was a kid, I spent a lot of time fishing and swimming in Goose Creek. If you follow it downstream, it fans out into a nice deep pool.”
Maggie stood on the grassy bank and stared at the water. The colors of the land were muted, the sky was brilliant with a sunset, and Goose Creek gurgled as it rushed over rocks. She thought this would be a nice place to be a little boy. Goose Creek and cows and row after row of apple trees. It was the American Dream.
When Aunt Kitty was a little girl there had been farms like this surrounding Riverside. Now there were shopping malls and highways and houses. Lots and lots of houses. And lots and lots of people. The people spilled out of the houses, clogging the roads and the supermarket aisles. Maggie’d had to stand in line to go to a movie, cash a check, buy a loaf of bread. And now here she was—just her and Hank and Goose Creek. It felt a little odd. All she could hear was Goose Creek and a cow, mooing in the distance. A cow, for crying out loud. Who would believe it.
“I think I’m experiencing culture shock,” she told Hank.
“What’s the matter, don’t they have cows in Riverside?” He moved closer, draping an arm around her shoulders. He felt her stiffen and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry. This is a friendly gesture. I’ve decided not to put any big moves on you until your opinion of me changes.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I’m not even going to repeat my proposal of marriage for a while. I mean, after all, who would want to marry the scourge of Skogen?”
She could hear a hint of laughter in his voice. It pulled at her, causing her to shake her head and smile with him. He was a man who could laugh at himself. That was nice. She suspected he was also a man who knew how to manipulate a situation. So she was still going to be careful. “Seems to me there are a number of women in town who would be more than happy to marry you.”
“Yeah,” he said, “but they only want me for my apples.”
Before they returned to the house, total blackness had descended on the orchard. Without benefit of a moon, they slowly, blindly picked their way along the dirt road.
“You sure you know where you’re going?” Maggie asked.
“Of course I know where I’m going. This is my apple orchard.”
“There aren’t any bears around here, are there?”
“The closest thing we have to a bear is Bubba, and he’s pretty much harmless. Of course, if you’re afraid you can come cuddle up to me, and I’ll protect you.”
“I thought you weren’t making any more moves.”
“If I’m not breathing heavy, it doesn’t count as a move.” He groped for her hand in the darkness. “Give me your hand, and I’ll make sure you get home safe and sound.”
She slid her hand into his, not because she was afraid, but because, even though his reputation left something to be desired, she liked him enormously. He was fun and he was comfortable. And she liked the way her hand felt in his. It felt like it belonged there. She was feeling a little homesick for all of the things she used to hate about Riverside, and it was good to know that at least her hand was in the right place.
They crested a small hill and were greeted by a single dot of light. Elsie had put the porch light on before she’d gone off on her date. Hank guided Maggie to the front porch and opened the screen door.
“We forgot to lock up the house,” Maggie said. “We didn’t even close the door.”
“I can’t remember the last time I locked this house. I don’t even know if I have a key.”
“My Lord, anyone could walk right in.”
“I guess that’s true, but no one ever has. Except Bubba, of course. And Bubba wouldn’t care if the door