Nobody's Child by Austin Boyd Page A

person in Auggie’s. Just the sight of the pistol on Ian’s hip sent diners pushing back in their chairs, as if each had some personal poaching story they were afraid he might read in their eyes. Ian confided in her once that most everyone in Middlebourne had been a poacher at some point in their lives, immersed in a country culture that condoned the taking of meat when people needed it. “I’m not here to take the dinner out of their pots,” he’d told her. “I’ve got enough work just busting the ones who slaughter for fun.”
    Ian watched her eyes rove the audience. “See any bad guys?” he asked, chuckling. Laura Ann shook her head. More blood rushed to her cheeks.
    â€œDon’t worry about all the stares,” he said in a low voice. “They’re looking at the gun.” He motioned with a nod of his head toward the weapon. “Happens all the time.”
    Laura Ann smiled, prodding at her pizza with a fork. “Thanks, Ian. This was kind of you.”
    â€œLeast I can do. I remember a freshman girl who met me here a few years ago, sipping on a Coke and breathing in the pizza. Pretending she could eat it but too cheap to buy. A really pretty girl.” He cleared his throat. “She looked just like you.”
    Pretty?
Her heart leapt.
    Laura Ann gripped her drink with both hands, lowering it to the table. Ian, comfortable as an old shoe, had never used that word with her as long as she’d known him.
    Pretty.
A term only Daddy used to describe her. Until now.
    She stared at her pizza, unable to look up, fearful she’d reveal her joy.
    A hand moved into her field of vision, pushing the pizza closer to her. “Hey,” he said, reaching over to tap her on the forearm. “I’m sorry. Was that too bold?” He chuckled and she looked up. His wedge of cheese and dough, folded down the middle,was headed for a hungry mouth. “But it’s the truth, McGehee,” he said with a wink. “You’re beautiful.”
    Ian smiled as he ate, his stare pulling a hot flush into her cheeks. For a long moment, watching him eat, she was years younger, a freshman girl drowning in a sea of teenage strangers. Tyler Consolidated High School threatened to overwhelm her, swimming in an ocean of students from all over the county. Fifteen years old and struggling with her self-image, she yearned for the privacy of pint-sized Boreman Elementary, only a mile from her home. Tyler Consolidated was too much to handle. She’d disappeared into Auggie’s to find a safe place after the first day of her freshman year, to find those few friends she knew in tiny Middlebourne, a short three-mile walk from home. Like that day six years ago, she was back at Auggie’s, drinking in the perfume of hot delicacies. And just like six years ago, here came Ian, walking into her life to bring her joy. But different this time — not just as a friend. Something more.
    â€œThank you,” she said. Ian devoured half his slice during her daydream. He raised an eyebrow, his trademark “you’re welcome,” and kept munching.
    â€œI mean, thanks for the compliment.” She looked down and cut into her slice with the plastic fork and knife he’d deposited on her plate, trying to work the big wedge into a manageable size. Her stomach joined her heart’s cries for attention, growling to be fed. “And thanks for the pizza,” she added.
    Ian knew her well. He’d never eaten a mushroom of any kind before that first day they spent together in Auggie’s, his redemption of their first day of their freshman year. If the truth were told, he’d probably confess he still didn’t like the topping. But he bought this selection to please her. Laura Ann’s heart pounded louder as the first bites of warm pork sausage, mushrooms, and melted cheese met her tongue. A love gift.
    â€œSo,” Ian said at last, wiping the last of