The Cowboy's Homecoming. Carolyne Aarsen

next memory was of coming to behind the wheel of his truck, which had plowed into a tree, and a police officer asking him if he knew his name.

      He suppressed a shudder at the flashbacks that always followed. Being taken away in the cruiser. Finding out that his truck had struck Abby’s father before it hit the tree. His parents coming to see him in the jail. The horror and the regret and the twisting guilt. Dealings with the lawyers and the subsequent prison sentence. He relived that night of the party every day for the first year after it happened, wishing he could turn back time.

      Part of him wanted to ask Abby why she broke up with him before the party, but given the events that had fragmented their lives, it seemed petty.

      “Looks like you’re still taking pictures,” he remarked, trying to fill the oppressive silence between them. At one time he had cared about her and thought she cared about him. Maybe, in spite of what happened, they could find some point of connection.

      “I’m working as a photographer and writer,” Abby said after a moment of silence. “Mostly travel pieces for the magazine I work for.”

      “You enjoy it?” he asked, glancing over at her, then down at her camera.

      “It pays the bills,” she replied, turning her camera off and slipping it back in her camera bag. She folded her arms over the bag and then winced.

      “Do you want anything for the pain?” he asked. “I’ve got some painkillers in the first-aid kit too.”

      She shook her head, turning to look out the side window.

      Guess the conversation’s over. He stared ahead at the road, the thump of the frost heaves, the hum of the tires, the clinking of his key chain against the steering column the only sounds in the truck. Ten more uncomfortable and silent minutes later, they rounded a corner and saw an automobile parked by the side of the road.

      “That’s my car,” Abby said. The vehicle listed to one side and Lee could see that one tire was flat.

      A tall, lanky girl lay on the hood of the car. She lifted her head as Lee parked the truck and then she languorously raised herself off the car when he got out. Lee was surprised as he rounded the hood of his truck. This was Louisa? He remembered a rather plump girl who never made any apology for telling him that Abby was too good for him.

      She would be pleased to know she was right.

      Abby was already out of the cab and slipping her knapsack over her arm, ignoring him as he offered her his assistance. She hopped, using the truck to balance herself as she made her way to the car.

      “What happened to you, girl?” Louisa called out, hurrying to help her friend. “Can’t leave you alone a minute before you get into trouble—” Then her voice faded away as a smile curved her lips.

      “Hello,” she said to him, her smile warm and friendly.

      Obviously she didn’t recognize him either, Lee noted, thinking of that brief moment when he and Abby were almost flirting with each other at the lookout point.

      “Louisa, this is Lee...Bannister,” Abby said, looking pointedly at her friend. Louisa’s smile fled and her features hardened as she caught Abby by the arm, helping her to the car.

      “How did you end up with him?” Louisa hissed, loud enough for Lee to hear.

      Him. How quickly he had been dismissed. He shouldn’t have expected anything different, though. Louisa had made no secret of what she thought of him in high school, and he didn’t imagine the events following the prom had enhanced his standing with Abby’s friend.

      “I cut my ankle and Lee helped me out,” Abby said, her voice strained. Lee felt sorry for her. She sounded as though the pain was getting worse.

      “How did you cut your ankle, girlfriend?”

      Abby waved off Louisa’s questions. “Just help me to the car so I can sit while we wait for the guy to come.”

      “What guy?” Lee asked.

      “Someone from Alan’s garage,” Louisa said in a dismissive tone. “He’s going to change the tire.”

      “I can do that,” Lee offered.

      Louisa and Abby both shot him a surprised look.

      “I’m not completely helpless,” Lee muttered, walking to the back of the car to check on the tire. It was well and truly flat. “Where’s the spare?”

      “You don’t need to—”

      “Alan can do it—”

      Abby and Louisa spoke at the same time. Lee almost felt insulted, but he guessed neither of them wanted to spend any more time with him than they had to.

      “There’s no way I’m leaving you two here stranded,” he said, ignoring their protests. “So, where’s the spare tire?”

      He saw Abby give Louisa another quick look, as if to verify what she should do. “It’s in the trunk. Under the carpet. There’s a toolbox there, as well.” Abby hit the key fob, he heard a click and he opened the trunk.

      “I’ll help you,” she said, hobbling over to his side.

      “Go sit on the side of the road,” he said. “I don’t want you falling again.”

      The “again” slipped out. The grimace on Abby’s face indicated he’d hit a sensitive spot. He imagined that, after first falling out of a tree, then stumbling and getting cut while trying to avoid him, she’d had her share of humiliation. He didn’t need to rub it in.

      Lee sighed wearily. He clearly wasn’t gaining ground with her, so he turned his attention to changing the tire. This he was halfway competent with. He found the spare tire, jack and tools he needed.

      While he jacked and loosened nuts, Abby and Louisa had both taken his advice and sat on the side of the road, talking quietly.

      Fifteen minutes later he dumped the flat tire in the back of the car and slammed the trunk shut. “It’s ready to go,” he said, brushing his hands on his jeans.

      Louisa stood, helping Abby to her feet. “What do we owe you?” Louisa asked.

      “Nothing. Just being neighborly.”

      “I prefer to pay you,” Abby said, digging in her backpack.

      “I prefer you don’t.” Lee took a step toward his truck. “You’ll want to bring that tire in to Alan’s to get it fixed. He can swap it for the spare. And, as I mentioned before, you should get that ankle looked at.”

      “I’ll do that.” Abby clutched her backpack. “And thanks again for your help and...the ride.”

      “Okay.” Another uncomfortable pause followed. There was nothing more to say or do, so he gave her a tense smile, then walked back to the truck.

      As he drove away, he glanced in the rearview mirror, surprised to feel his heart banging against his rib cage.

      It was just reaction, he told himself as he sucked in a breath and looked ahead. He wasn’t sure if he’d see Abby again, and it didn’t matter. She didn’t want to have anything to do with him, and he didn’t blame her.

      That much hadn’t changed.

      * * *

      “You going to tell your mom that you met up with Lee?”

      Abby looked up from her camera, glancing ahead at the road as Louisa turned the car around, headed back to Saddlebank. “It’s not like I snuck out to see him,” she said, wishing she didn’t sound so defensive. “It was a rotten coincidence that we both ended up at the same place at the same time.”

      “Must have been hard for you.”

      Abby let the sentence settle, contemplating the intricate ebb and flow of feelings that Lee Bannister stirred in her.

      It