Scarlett Rose's Arc

Chapter 14 of 57

Two days after Sunday supper, Maya called before Scarlett had finished her coffee. "She's asking around," Maya said. "Diner. Gas station. The old woman who runs the post office. She wants to know where Clayton spends his nights." Scarlett set the cup down. "What did they tell her?" "Nothing worth hearing. But she's not leaving. And Clayton hasn't said a word to her." Scarlett looked at the hat on the hook by the door. "I'll handle it." She put on the yellow dress with the small flowers, the one with puffed sleeves and a fitted waist. She pulled on the tan boots and set the straw hat on her head. She wanted to be seen clearly. She drove into town alone and parked where the diner windows caught the light. Madison Rivers was at the counter, blonde hair over one shoulder, coffee cup in both hands. She looked up when the bell rang and her face went still. Scarlett walked to the stool beside her and sat down. The waitress didn't come over. Two ranch hands at the far booth stopped talking. "You've been asking about Clayton," Scarlett said. Madison set the cup down. "I have." "Ask me instead." Madison studied her a long moment. "He hung his hat at your place." "He did." "I let him walk out four years ago and didn't say a word. I came back to say it." "He isn't yours to say it to anymore." Madison's mouth pulled tight. "I know how that sounds." "It sounds like you want the argument you didn't have. Have it with the mirror. Don't have it in my town." A pink butterfly bumped the window between them and drifted off. Madison watched it go. When she looked back her eyes were wet, but her voice stayed flat. "He was quiet when he left me. I thought if I saw him I'd finally get loud." "You saw me at the feed store," Scarlett said. "You already know how it ends." Madison nodded once. She put a bill on the counter and stood. At the door she paused. "Tell him I didn't come to his ranch. That was the one thing I promised myself." "I'll tell him." The bell rang. Madison was gone. Scarlett drove home with the windows down. Clayton's truck was in the drive. He was on the porch of the cedar-sided cottage with the bloodhound at his boot, and he stood when he saw the dress and the hat. "Maya called me," he said. "I know." "You went alone." "It was mine to go." She climbed the steps. "She's leaving. She said to tell you she never came to the ranch." Clayton let out a breath he'd been holding for a week. "Alright." She took his hand. "Now come inside. We've got a wall to knock out for that extra room." He followed her through the red door. The hat on the hook didn't move.