coffee-with-cream complexion.
Adopted at age twelve by the Winstons, Brice had been an
immediate fit. Social workers warned Ariel and her parents there would be some
adjustments, some acting out. But he simply slipped into their lives as
seamlessly as if he’d been born to her parents. Ariel loved to tell people he
was her brother and watch the mixture of shock and confusion flit over their
faces. Her, with her pale complexion standing next to Brice and his darker skin
from his mixed parentage proved a puzzle to many. She’d grown out of that
stage…mostly.
“Just a guy we met last night.” Mary Ellen answered Brice’s
question with an It doesn’t matter tone, though Ariel knew better. And
she suspected Brice did too.
Brice’s beautiful dark eyes narrowed. “Hitting up the bars
again?” Though the question could have been for either one, his focus was on
Mary Ellen.
“What’s it to you?” Mary Ellen set the last plate on the
table and stuck her hands on her hips.
“It’s nothing to me,” Brice replied, his voice barely
restrained, hands fisted at his sides.
Ariel knew that tone. There’d be blood soon. “He was a very
nice guy who helped us out when we needed some assistance.” She jumped in.
Brice swiveled his head to look at her. Then his eyes went
back to Mary Ellen. “Your attention seeking is going to get you in trouble one
day,” he warned.
“Ooo-kay,” Ariel said. She grabbed Mary Ellen’s arm before
her friend could lunge across the table and clock him. Which he would deserve.
“We’re done setting up for breakfast, so consider us relieved. We’ll be back
for dinner service.” Dragging a spitting-mad Mary Ellen with her, they left the
dining hall and walked up the dirt path to Mary Ellen’s cabin.
Mary Ellen flung the door open and stormed inside, pacing
the cabin floor like a caged tigress. Her ponytail whipped behind her with
every sharp turn.
“How dare he!” she fumed. “Stick up his ass…slow
poke…spiteful jackass…”
From experience, Ariel knew Mary Ellen would run out of steam
soon. But until then, she’d have more luck reasoning with a pile of rocks. So
she sat on her friend’s bed and waited for the storm to pass.
“Insensitive…thoughtless…”
She was winding down. No cursing.
Thirty seconds later, Mary Ellen plopped down on the bed,
sufficiently out of steam.
Ariel patted her knee. “Feel better?”
Mary Ellen shrugged. There was misery in her eyes and Ariel
had to wonder what it truly was that kept those two apart.
“All right. Your apprentice has the stable covered for the
day. We’re free until dinnertime. Let’s just go veg out. Buy some trashy
magazines, head over to The Grind, order some seriously good coffee and just
sit.” She hadn’t planned it, but the minute she made the suggestion, Ariel knew
she needed to relax as much as Mary Ellen did.
Mary Ellen stared at the headboard for a moment then nodded.
“Okay.”
As they grabbed their bags and traded their camp polos for
plain t-shirts, Ariel couldn’t help but be glad for another distraction from
thinking about last night.
* * * * *
Trav opened the door to yet another coffee shop. The smell
of grinding beans and the noise of baristas calling out names didn’t affect him
any longer. At the first coffee house, his mouth had watered. The second, he’d
given in and bought a coffee and muffin. Now on their twelfth coffee house of
the morning, the smell was barely noticeable.
Their search for Sarah had yielded zero results. Showing her
picture to baristas, he asked if she was a regular or if they’d ever seen her.
A few gave a vague “maybe” but most couldn’t say.
“Can we actually get something to eat here?” Pete muttered
behind him as Trav scanned the early lunch crowd. “That bagel I had at coffee
place number two evaporated four shops ago.”
“Yeah, sure. Just wait for a minute.” Trav took a table in
the corner where he could see the whole shop but he wasn’t
Adopted at age twelve by the Winstons, Brice had been an
immediate fit. Social workers warned Ariel and her parents there would be some
adjustments, some acting out. But he simply slipped into their lives as
seamlessly as if he’d been born to her parents. Ariel loved to tell people he
was her brother and watch the mixture of shock and confusion flit over their
faces. Her, with her pale complexion standing next to Brice and his darker skin
from his mixed parentage proved a puzzle to many. She’d grown out of that
stage…mostly.
“Just a guy we met last night.” Mary Ellen answered Brice’s
question with an It doesn’t matter tone, though Ariel knew better. And
she suspected Brice did too.
Brice’s beautiful dark eyes narrowed. “Hitting up the bars
again?” Though the question could have been for either one, his focus was on
Mary Ellen.
“What’s it to you?” Mary Ellen set the last plate on the
table and stuck her hands on her hips.
“It’s nothing to me,” Brice replied, his voice barely
restrained, hands fisted at his sides.
Ariel knew that tone. There’d be blood soon. “He was a very
nice guy who helped us out when we needed some assistance.” She jumped in.
Brice swiveled his head to look at her. Then his eyes went
back to Mary Ellen. “Your attention seeking is going to get you in trouble one
day,” he warned.
“Ooo-kay,” Ariel said. She grabbed Mary Ellen’s arm before
her friend could lunge across the table and clock him. Which he would deserve.
“We’re done setting up for breakfast, so consider us relieved. We’ll be back
for dinner service.” Dragging a spitting-mad Mary Ellen with her, they left the
dining hall and walked up the dirt path to Mary Ellen’s cabin.
Mary Ellen flung the door open and stormed inside, pacing
the cabin floor like a caged tigress. Her ponytail whipped behind her with
every sharp turn.
“How dare he!” she fumed. “Stick up his ass…slow
poke…spiteful jackass…”
From experience, Ariel knew Mary Ellen would run out of steam
soon. But until then, she’d have more luck reasoning with a pile of rocks. So
she sat on her friend’s bed and waited for the storm to pass.
“Insensitive…thoughtless…”
She was winding down. No cursing.
Thirty seconds later, Mary Ellen plopped down on the bed,
sufficiently out of steam.
Ariel patted her knee. “Feel better?”
Mary Ellen shrugged. There was misery in her eyes and Ariel
had to wonder what it truly was that kept those two apart.
“All right. Your apprentice has the stable covered for the
day. We’re free until dinnertime. Let’s just go veg out. Buy some trashy
magazines, head over to The Grind, order some seriously good coffee and just
sit.” She hadn’t planned it, but the minute she made the suggestion, Ariel knew
she needed to relax as much as Mary Ellen did.
Mary Ellen stared at the headboard for a moment then nodded.
“Okay.”
As they grabbed their bags and traded their camp polos for
plain t-shirts, Ariel couldn’t help but be glad for another distraction from
thinking about last night.
* * * * *
Trav opened the door to yet another coffee shop. The smell
of grinding beans and the noise of baristas calling out names didn’t affect him
any longer. At the first coffee house, his mouth had watered. The second, he’d
given in and bought a coffee and muffin. Now on their twelfth coffee house of
the morning, the smell was barely noticeable.
Their search for Sarah had yielded zero results. Showing her
picture to baristas, he asked if she was a regular or if they’d ever seen her.
A few gave a vague “maybe” but most couldn’t say.
“Can we actually get something to eat here?” Pete muttered
behind him as Trav scanned the early lunch crowd. “That bagel I had at coffee
place number two evaporated four shops ago.”
“Yeah, sure. Just wait for a minute.” Trav took a table in
the corner where he could see the whole shop but he wasn’t
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