thousand ways to change her life that didn’t have to involve a man. She could change out her wardrobe, or take lessons of some sort. She could get another degree, or train for a triathlon.
She could learn to ride a Harley.
The options pumped through her in time with her heartbeat.
Audrey crossed the Birch River, its water dark and rustling, and then headed toward the high school. If she kept going straight, she’d hit downtown. After that, up a gentle hill, was Willa’s neighborhood, where White Pine’s biggest homes were built. Audrey lived on the other side of the river—in a simple one-story house she loved and had bought herself—though she favored runs through Willa’s quiet streets where ancient oaks arced over her like protective giants. Many of those grand homes had been built by White Pine’s early bankers, lumber barons, and railroad executives. The structures were still stately and lovely, with old ivy crawling up the sides and long, curved driveways that seemed to smile as she raced by.
Not today, though. Audrey was going to hit the track at the high school and do sprints, then run the metal bleachers. She needed to squeeze into her work attire every day, and the regular recipe exchanges—especially the ones to which she brought donuts—weren’t going to help anything stay buttoned or fastened.
As she ran across the damp football field toward the track, she thought she saw a dark figure silhouetted in the shadows of the bleachers. She blinked and tried to focus, but it was still too early—there wasn’t enough light to really tell. Nevertheless, she pushed her shoulders back and kept her head high. Look strong so your attacker will think twice, she’d read once. She’d never felt unsafe running alone in her beloved small town, but it was good to be aware nevertheless.
Thinking ahead. Covering her bases.
She exhaled, suddenly frustrated with being so logical and practical and predictable. She had forced herself to play by every rule in life, and it had left her single and fired from her dream job. Irritated, she pushed herself to sprint the last bit of distance to the track, then went right for the bleachers. Up, up, up to the top—her legs burning and her lungs heaving.
When she turned to trot down and do it again, she screamed at the hooded figure standing at the bottom of the stands, waiting for her.
“I am armed!” she cried, glancing around for an exit strategy, “and I will hurt you.”
The figure waved its hands. She couldn’t make out exactly what it was saying, but when it finally pushed its hood back, she relaxed. A dark ponytail cascaded from the top of the figure’s head, curling at the ends around the shoulders. From Audrey’s vantage point, it looked like Alexis Belten.
“Ms. Tanner!” the figure called. “It’s just me! Sorry if I scared you!”
Audrey trotted back down the stairs, her heartbeat slowing and her muscles relaxing.
“Alexis?”
Sure enough, the track team member and one-time volleyball player was standing there in the dark, nervously shifting her tall, lean frame from one foot to the other.
“I’m so sorry,” Alexis said, “but I had to make sure that it really was you out here, and then you screamed and I was like, oh crap she thinks I’m a murderer , but then I remembered my hood was up so I pushed it back so hopefully you’d know it was me and not, like, Jack the Ripper.”
Audrey nodded. “That’s all fine. But what are you doing here? The sun’s not even up.”
“No, I know,” Alexis said, twisting her hands together. “That’s the point. Not that it’s dark, I mean, but that you’re here and this is when you work out sometimes and I want to work out with you. I came yesterday and the day before, because I know you do bleachers at least one day a week, I just didn’t know which day. I wanted to join you is all.”
Even in the dark, Audrey could see Alexis’s forehead crinkling with nervousness and something else. Worry?
She could learn to ride a Harley.
The options pumped through her in time with her heartbeat.
Audrey crossed the Birch River, its water dark and rustling, and then headed toward the high school. If she kept going straight, she’d hit downtown. After that, up a gentle hill, was Willa’s neighborhood, where White Pine’s biggest homes were built. Audrey lived on the other side of the river—in a simple one-story house she loved and had bought herself—though she favored runs through Willa’s quiet streets where ancient oaks arced over her like protective giants. Many of those grand homes had been built by White Pine’s early bankers, lumber barons, and railroad executives. The structures were still stately and lovely, with old ivy crawling up the sides and long, curved driveways that seemed to smile as she raced by.
Not today, though. Audrey was going to hit the track at the high school and do sprints, then run the metal bleachers. She needed to squeeze into her work attire every day, and the regular recipe exchanges—especially the ones to which she brought donuts—weren’t going to help anything stay buttoned or fastened.
As she ran across the damp football field toward the track, she thought she saw a dark figure silhouetted in the shadows of the bleachers. She blinked and tried to focus, but it was still too early—there wasn’t enough light to really tell. Nevertheless, she pushed her shoulders back and kept her head high. Look strong so your attacker will think twice, she’d read once. She’d never felt unsafe running alone in her beloved small town, but it was good to be aware nevertheless.
Thinking ahead. Covering her bases.
She exhaled, suddenly frustrated with being so logical and practical and predictable. She had forced herself to play by every rule in life, and it had left her single and fired from her dream job. Irritated, she pushed herself to sprint the last bit of distance to the track, then went right for the bleachers. Up, up, up to the top—her legs burning and her lungs heaving.
When she turned to trot down and do it again, she screamed at the hooded figure standing at the bottom of the stands, waiting for her.
“I am armed!” she cried, glancing around for an exit strategy, “and I will hurt you.”
The figure waved its hands. She couldn’t make out exactly what it was saying, but when it finally pushed its hood back, she relaxed. A dark ponytail cascaded from the top of the figure’s head, curling at the ends around the shoulders. From Audrey’s vantage point, it looked like Alexis Belten.
“Ms. Tanner!” the figure called. “It’s just me! Sorry if I scared you!”
Audrey trotted back down the stairs, her heartbeat slowing and her muscles relaxing.
“Alexis?”
Sure enough, the track team member and one-time volleyball player was standing there in the dark, nervously shifting her tall, lean frame from one foot to the other.
“I’m so sorry,” Alexis said, “but I had to make sure that it really was you out here, and then you screamed and I was like, oh crap she thinks I’m a murderer , but then I remembered my hood was up so I pushed it back so hopefully you’d know it was me and not, like, Jack the Ripper.”
Audrey nodded. “That’s all fine. But what are you doing here? The sun’s not even up.”
“No, I know,” Alexis said, twisting her hands together. “That’s the point. Not that it’s dark, I mean, but that you’re here and this is when you work out sometimes and I want to work out with you. I came yesterday and the day before, because I know you do bleachers at least one day a week, I just didn’t know which day. I wanted to join you is all.”
Even in the dark, Audrey could see Alexis’s forehead crinkling with nervousness and something else. Worry?
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