The Ruth Valley Missing (7 page)

I was enjoying the brisk weather,
walking to the town barbecue in my boots and favorite scarf. I told Jack that I
wanted to take some photos on the stroll up, but would gladly accept his offer
for a ride at the end of the festivities. While it was true that I wanted to
take photos, I also wanted to avoid showing up to my first town event with the
beloved Sheriff. I wasn’t looking to give the town anything else to talk about.

I didn’t have too much further to go
when a truck passed and hit its brakes. The passenger door flew open and I
heard Emma squeal my name.

“James!”

She waved her ride on and hopped
over next to me, linking her arm in mine. “I’m so glad to see you! You don’t
mind me walkin’ with you, right?”

“Not at all!” I laughed. “It’s nice
to see a familiar face.”

“You haven’t met too many people
from town yet?”

“Not really. I mean, a couple of
shopkeepers, but I haven’t said much more than a ‘hello’ to them.”

“Well, most everyone is real nice.
I’ll introduce you around.”

I loved Emma’s sweetness. She was so
genuinely pleased with everything. It was refreshing after months of hanging around
Dylan’s friends, who seemed to complain about everything, including each other.

It was another odd, yet really
welcome, change.

“So, Emma, what do you like to do
when you aren’t working at the diner?”

Emma scrunched up her face,
thinking. “Oh, I don’t know. Sometimes I volunteer at the church. In the spring
there is always a lot to do in the garden, and I love flowers, so I like to
help out there. And I spend time with my momma. She isn’t in the best health,
so I read to her and keep house.”

“She must be happy to have you
around to take care of her.”

She shrugged. “She says it’s what
I’m ‘spose to do.”

For the first time, I saw a sad look
cross Emma’s face, but in an instant, she perked up. “How did your photos from
the diner look?”

“I liked them. I sent off for some
prints, so I should have some to bring by the diner next week.”

“I’m excited. I love pretty
pictures.”

“You should come out with me one day
and take some yourself.”

Emma hopped as we kept walking.
“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Just let me know when you
have some time and we’ll go.”

We were approaching the rummage sale
and Emma squeezed my arm. “Thank you, James, that is so sweet.”

We walked into the sea of tables,
filled with old lamps, vases, and various knick knacks. Some tables had piles
of neatly folded fabrics, crocheted shawls, and knit scarves. A girl walked up,
about Emma’s age as far as I could tell, tugging at the sleeves of her sweater.

“Hey Anne, this is my friend James,”
Emma said, making introductions. “She’s from New York.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss James.” Anne
was thin, with light brown hair that fell to her waist. She wore wire frame
glasses and seemed considerably quieter than Emma.

“Just James. It’s very nice to meet
you, Anne.”

She smiled and nodded without looking
up at me. “Emma, the sisters wanted us to help set up the dessert table.”

“Oh, I completely forgot.” Emma
frowned and squeezed my arm. “James, I have to go, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not a problem. I’m sure I’ll
catch up with you later.”

Emma took off with Anne shuffling
behind her, leaving me to fend for myself. I lifted up my camera and started to
snap photos of some of the more interesting looking figurines on one table. I’d
smile and say hello to the ladies watching over the items as I snapped away.
Some would smile in return, while others would only stare.

I had moved past several tables when
something caught my eye: an old camera bag. When I opened it, there was a
camera, a lens, and some old film still inside. I picked it up, fiddled around
with it a bit, and discovered it was in good working order. I placed the camera
back in the bag, threw it over the opposite shoulder of the bag I was already
carrying, and walked up to a table of ladies with a little locked box in front
of them.

“Hi. I was wondering how much this
camera bag is?”

One of the ladies looked over her
spectacles, perched precariously low on her nose. “That’s an orange sticker on
there. Twenty-five dollars.”

I slid a wallet from the inside of
my camera bag out, and handed the lady a couple of bills. She counted them and
started to make change. While she did that, one of the other women spoke.

“Are you the girl from the city
living out at Jack’s place?”

“I’m renting the place behind
Sheriff Jack’s house, not living at his place.” I let out a nervous laugh,
while the women looked at each other. One started to hand me my change, but I
put a hand up, “Keep it.”

“Well, that’s mighty generous. Bless
you.” She smiled and added, “Why don’t you take a look at some of those quilts
over there. Handmade by Miss Sherry.”

My attempt at winning them over
seemed to slowly be working. I thought I may as well keep with the momentum.
“Those quilts are gorgeous. How much for the green and white one?”

Now the woman behind the table I
figured must be Miss Sherry was smiling, too. “That’s a large one, so it is on
the pricey side. Sixty dollars.”

I knew if I wanted, I could probably
convince her to sell it to me for less, but I was on my way to losing my
reputation as the ‘rude city girl with the phone in church’, so I whipped out a
few more bills. “I’ll take it. It’s just what I need for my new place.”

The ladies all seemed very pleased
with themselves, and quite possibly me. Sherry wrapped the quilt up and put it
in a bag before handing it to me. “Thank you, dear.”

“Thank you. Sherry, right? And I
didn’t catch your names?” I nodded towards the other two women behind the
table.

“I’m Beverly,” said the woman with
the cashbox, “and this here is my sister, Francine.”

“It’s lovely to meet you ladies.”

“The pleasure is ours,” smiled
Beverly, as she took the sixty dollars from Sherry and placed it in the box.
“You go enjoy yourself.”

As I walked away, loaded down with
two camera bags and a heavy quilt I looked back to see the women chatting with
other townspeople, with the occasional glance in my direction. It looked like
the good graces of the town might have cost me just under a hundred dollars.

Not a horrible deal.

I wandered around for a while
longer. Taking photos was becoming more of a challenge with the load I was
carrying, and I was getting hungry. I walked towards the smell of smoked meat
that had been wafting over to the sale tables all afternoon. As I got closer, I
could see the spread of macaroni and potato salads, puddings, cakes, and of course,
grills loaded with meat.

“Looks good doesn’t it? The sisters
do all the cooking, if you can believe it.”

I turned to see Father Mike standing
beside me, sipping a root beer. He was wearing jeans and a dark blue coat,
nearly disguising the tiny scrap of white at his neck.

“Amazing. I don’t know much about
barbecue, but if that tastes half as good as it smells, I may never leave this
tent.”

“We’ll be sure to wheel you out if
necessary.” Father Mike looked me up and down and smiled, “Looks like you had a
good time rummaging?”

“Yes. Although, I have to admit I
didn’t completely think the timing of my purchases through.” I set the bulky
bag with the quilt down at my feet and removed one camera bag, rubbing my
shoulder and neck where the strap was digging in. “I may need to be wheeled out
even without the barbecue.”

Father Mike smiled while taking
another sip of root beer, but as a voice came up behind me, his smile seemed to
switch from genuine to strained.

“Afternoon, Father. James, let me help
you with your stuff.”

Jack leaned forward picking up the
quilt and sliding the camera bag over his shoulder.

“Thanks, but I have it.”

Jack shook his head and slid his
hand under the strap still slung over my shoulder. “I’ll put all of this in the
Jeep so you can eat and wander.”

“I’ll keep this one actually,” I
said, gripping my digital camera bag, “in case I want to take any more photos.”

Jack’s hand was still resting
between the strap of the camera bag and my shoulder. “You sure?”

I nodded, wondering if the flutter
in my stomach was brought on by Jack’s hand or hunger.

“Alright. If you change your mind,
let me know.”

He walked off, carrying my newly
purchased goods to his Jeep while I stood with Father Mike.

“Well, then, looks like you have
your hands free for some food?”

I nodded. “Yes. I can’t wait. You
won’t think I’m rude if I don’t find a nice way to wrap up our conversation,
will you?”

“Not at all. Leave. I insist.”

I grinned and rushed off to make
myself a plate. As I walked along the table with my paper plate in hand, I
scanned the traditionally southern dishes. I heaped some macaroni and creamed
spinach on the plate before making it over to the grills.  

Father Mike wasn’t kidding when he
said the nuns made everything, as I walked up to a woman dressed in dark
clothes behind the grill, wimple on her head and a cross around her neck.

“What can I get you? We have ribs,
brisket, all sorts of goodness.”

“I’ll try the brisket.”

“Good choice,” she winked, placing a
pile of meat on my plate. She tossed a couple of ribs on there and added,
“These are a favorite too. Special recipe.”

“Thank you, Sister...?”

“Sister Catherine. Enjoy your meal,
Miss Quinn.”

I forced a nervous smile, still
unaccustomed to strangers knowing my name. At least this sister was friendly. I
found an empty table and sat down. I took a bite of the brisket and closed my
eyes. The meat was smoky and sweet, practically melting in my mouth, nothing
like anything I’d tasted before. I knew barbecue in the south was supposed to
be better, but I didn’t imagine it could be so different.

“How’s the food?”

I didn’t have to open my eyes to
know it was Jack’s voice. “So good I almost took the Lord’s name in vain.”

Jack laughed. “Well, don’t let
anyone else hear you say that. But I know what you mean.”

Jack set his plate down on the table
across from me, along with two plastic cups.

“Oh, thanks, I totally forgot to
grab a drink.”

“Sweet tea.”

“Excuse me?” I held a forkful of
macaroni in front of my face, waiting.

“Sweet tea. That’s what I got you.
Can’t have barbecue without it.”

“Oh, sweet tea. Gotcha.”

“What did you think I said?”

“Nothing.”

“Beautiful evening, isn’t it?”

I nodded and looked around at the people
milling about, smiles on their faces, the smell of barbecue and cool fall air
all around. “The church holds these events often?”

Jack nodded. “Seeing your neighbor
for a few minutes each Sunday doesn’t really give you an opportunity to get to
know them. The church figures the more time we all spend together, the more we
invest in each other.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“You don’t sound too convinced.”

“It’s not that. I’m just not used to
it. I couldn’t even tell you the names of the people who lived in my last
building, let alone tell you anything about their personal life.”

Jack leaned forward against the
picnic table. “And do you prefer that? Keeping people at arm’s length?”

I shrugged. “Not everyone.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Jack gave
me a quick wink before turning to say hello to some of the townspeople at the
next table. I watched the way he gestured as he told a story, his hands
calloused and strong, the way his sapphire eyes seemed to dance when he
laughed. I was amazed how at ease he was with everyone, sweet and sincere, and
how they responded in kind. It was endearing to see someone genuinely
interested in others.

Maybe a little more than endearing.

~~~

“You ok? You haven’t said a word the
whole ride.”

Jack threw his jeep into park as we
entered the barn. I shook my head, realizing I had zoned out on the short drive
home.

“Sorry about that. Just a little
tired. All that food and chatting wore me out.”

I grabbed the door handle and hopped
out of the jeep, reaching inside for my camera bags while Jack grabbed the
quilt.

“Sherry got you to buy one of her
quilts, huh?”

“It’s cute,” I said defensively.
“Plus, you should have seen those ladies faces when I bought it. I went from
‘heathen from the city’ to ‘sweet girl down the road’ in a matter of seconds.”

Jack put his free hand up as we
walked to my door, “Hey, I’m not judging. You should see my linen closet. I
think I have one in every color of the rainbow.”