Stan couldn’t decide whether to laugh, cry or run. He chose “none of the above” and simply stared at her. She was right, in a strange way. They had once considered each other friends. And after he and Amy had fallen in love, poor Bethany had kind of been shoved aside.
“We did have some fun in the old days, didn’t we?” he remarked.
Laughing lightly, she nodded. “Yes. Only I hate to refer to last year as the old days. It makes us sound ancient.”
“There are times when I feel as though I’ve lived a hundred years.”
“And you looked it, too, for a while,” Bethany quipped. “I must say you look much better lately. I think you’re going to live.”
That made him smile. “Thanks. I agree.”
“Good, because I’ve missed you.”
“You have? How?” He figured she’d mention not seeing him in church or at the high school football and basketball games. He never dreamed she’d take the innocent question personally.
“Days like this,” she said wistfully, sighing and gazing at the placid river as it flowed beneath the two-lane bridge. “We used to have so much fun just hanging out and talking.”
“I don’t know what we’d talk about these days,” Stan countered. “Except you-know-who. And I think we’ve already exhausted that subject, don’t you?”
“I suppose so. No use beating a dead horse, as my granny used to say.”
“Speaking of horses, do you still ride?”
“Not often.” She smiled at him. “I think the last time I was on a horse was the time one ran away with me on the church youth trail ride out at the Circle L ranch. You rescued me. Remember?”
“Yes. And I wasn’t even wearing a white hat.”
“You were still my hero,” Bethany said softly. “You still are. Every time I hear the fire siren go off I pray for your safety.”
“Really?” Stan was touched.
“Yes, really. Oh, not only for you, of course, but you’re always the first one who comes to mind.”
“Thanks. We can always use prayer. The job is mostly boredom punctuated with sheer terror. We never know what we’ll find when we arrive on the scene.”
“At least High Plains has escaped the kind of terrible tornados that hit Manhattan last year. I couldn’t believe all the damage. It’s a wonder more folks weren’t hurt or killed.”
“I know.” He glanced up at the clear Kansas sky. “This is a beautiful place to live except for the storms we sometimes get. I suppose there’s no place that’s totally free of drawbacks.”
“I suppose not. I do wonder, though, how people who lose everything manage to cope. I suppose the strong sense of belonging helps. This community is like one big family.”
“Yeah,” Stan agreed, chuckling. “It has just as many odd relatives as most families do, too. Take you and me, for instance.”
Bethany arched her brows. “Oh, yeah? Speak for yourself, mister. I am as ordinary as apple pie.”
“And as sweet as the ice cream on the top,” he said.
“But not nearly as chilly, I hope.” She blushed and averted her gaze.
“No,” Stan said as he reached for her hand and touched it briefly. “You’re one of the warmest-hearted people I’ve ever known.”
To his astonishment, she pulled away, got to her feet and said, “I should be going. Thanks for lunch,” and abruptly walked away.
As he began to gather up their trash and carry it to a nearby receptacle, he wondered what had spurred her to act so unexpectedly. He couldn’t recall saying anything offensive.
Puzzled, he started for the fire department to ready his gear for the evening’s duty. For once, it was Bethany who haunted his thoughts rather than her sister.
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