James Smith - Hybrid

“I hope to God the Scouts have cancelled any plans for an overnight hike.”

“I have no idea,” Dieter replied. “But anyway, I wasn’t about to give permission for Michael. He’ll find friends to hang around with at the campground. He’ll love it.”

“How about if I come over early tomorrow to pick up Megan for a trip to the lake? She needs to get away for the weekend. Especially if her brother is going on a fun trip.”

“That’s perfect. I’ll get Rusty up to Livingston by noon.”

She walked to Rusty’s cage and pressed the tip of her nose against the wire mesh while whispering a long goodbye. Then without fanfare, she walked over to where Dieter sat and tossed her arms around him and squeezed.

After she had gone, he threw the fast food bag into the trash and walked to Rusty’s cage and opened it to check again the crimson and yellow stained bandage around his throat. While he massaged the golden head, Rusty whimpered and beat his tail on the floor of the cage.

The veterinary hospital in Livingston was two hours away. Once he got Rusty into expert hands to care for him, he’d rush back to Colter. He needed Josh Pendleton more than ever now.

Dieterwatched from the cabin’s front window as the van pulled into the driveway promptly at seven a.m. Eager to get going, Michael wore tan corduroy trousers and a light brown shirt under his jacket, his best imitation of a Scout uniform.

But the trousers were too new, they looked too neat. He’d told his dad that the older kids might notice and tease him. Dieter caught him in his underwear in the bedroom wrinkling the trousers and rubbing the legs with the bottom of a dirty shoe to give them a better look.

Michael jogged down the graveled driveway carrying his backpack before Dieter had a chance to give him a hug. He shouted after his son, telling him to be careful and to follow the rules, then waved at Paul Struthers, one of the fathers who’d volunteered for the Camporee. The excited Scouts waved back a mock goodbye through open windows as the van took off.

Amy arrived before Megan awoke to take her to the Little Bears in Lakeview for the Labor Day weekend. She and Dieter sat down with coffee at the kitchen table and he told her about the trip to Livingston and the over-the-top reception by the veterinary staff. He assured her that Rusty was in the best place possible for a quick recovery. For now, he had some important business. He’d see them in a couple of days at the lake house.

“With all that’s been happening,” Dieter added, “I forgot to ask you about your plane?”

“Dad got it hauled up to Billings for repairs.”

“I need to apologize to him. The venture was my idea.”

“Don’t be crazy. He’s just glad neither of us was injured. Or worse. He knew what we were up to… even in on the plans. Remember?”

Dieter nodded with a smile. She looked down and fidgeted with her fingers in her lap before raising her head to speak. “It’s a heckuva time to bring this up, but I should’ve told you last night.”

His smile dissolved. What was this all about?

“I’ll be packing up soon,” she said. She stared back at him without blinking.

“Packing up?” Maybe he heard her wrong. He pretended not to understand, but he’d already captured her meaning in the pit of his stomach.

“Not exactly sure when, but I’m packing up that pathetic little Datsun and leaving for the West Coast. Santa Cruz. I’ve put off telling you for too long.”

Planning this for a long time without even giving me a hint?

“I have to confess, I’m surprised,” he said.

“Not really, are you?”

“I knew we wouldn’t have you around forever, but…”

“Molly will have some good leads on where to find another nanny.”

“Sure. Yes. I’ll talk to her.” He sat back in the chair and folded his arms across his chest, nodding to himself to project a fake moxie that he could handle it. Just a minor adjustment in life. No big deal, he lied to himself.

“Your dad told me you were interested in a teaching job upstate.”

“I applied for one a while back, but they never got back in touch with me,” she said. “The semester’s starting sometime in September. They’ve likely found somebody else.”

“Did you call them?”

“Twice in the past week alone. It’ll be different out in California by a long shot. After the summer, everybody heads back to work or whatever they do in Santa Cruz. I need to get out there and find a job before the competition heats up.”

He’d exhausted ideas on how to react to news that had not only blindsided him but sent his head spinning. “I suppose you’re following your dreams.”

She stood to leave. “You can say that. Following dreams just like you did in coming to Colter. But I still have one little obstacle remaining before I go.”

He shot her a questioning look.

“Convincing my dad it’s the right thing to do.”

“I have a hunch that won’t be easy.”

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you, Dr. Harmon, that charm always wins out over reason?”

She nodded toward the doorway. Megan stumbled into the room with a hand under her pajama top, scratching her tummy while the other hand wiped sleep from her eyes. Red pillow marks were embossed on one side of her face. She stopped in the middle of the kitchen floor and yawned. “Does anybody around here got any Cocoa Puffs?”

Amy sat waiting for Megan to put on her clothes and wondering why Dieter had to rush away so fast. She helped Megan gather her things while chatting about a picnic they were planning and the horses they’d be riding. Without question she was going to miss both of the kids once in California. They had fun times together during the summer and she never considered her duties for the family a chore. But she had to admit that a feeling of guilt for leaving town was creeping up on her. She needed to sit down with Molly so the two of them could brainstorm how to help Dieter find a good nanny. That was the least she could do before leaving town and she owed it to the kids.

As Megan struggled to hold close a stuffed dog, Amy picked up the miniature pink suitcase and opened the cabin door.

She stopped.

A tall man with a straw hat and a patch of long hair decorating his chin stood on the front porch as if he had been waiting for her. “I didn’t mean to startle you, ma’am.” He removed his hat, revealing a baldhead and eyes buried by age and scorn.

She grabbed Megan’s hand. “What do you want?” She didn’t have a gun in her purse or car. Wrong time to remember the warnings her dad had given her over the years. She mentally measured the distance between the porch and her Datsun. How to make a quick getaway with Megan?

“I was looking for Dr. Harmon, ma’am.”

“He’s coming right behind us. What is it that—”

“But, Amy—” Megan began.

“Now, honey, let’s get these things in the car. You’re daddy’s coming.”

“I’ll just wait right here for him,” the stranger said.

“He’s still dressing. May I tell him what this is about?”

“It’s about my wife. She’s missing.”

“Take this, Megan, and go on to the car.” Megan looked up at her, scowling, then grappled with the bag of clothes and stuffed dog she held under her arms.

“I didn’t catch your name, sir.”

“Loudermilk. Joseph Vincent Loudermilk.”

Amy swallowed and tried not to let the look on her face give away her shock. She held out her hand. “Amy Little Bear.”

He shook it awkwardly. “I believe Dr. Harmon may know something about the whereabouts of my wife.”

What is this guy talking about? “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Mr. Loudermilk.”