Shadow of Turning. Valerie Hansen

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      Her dusty blue sedan was parked in the driveway of an abandoned house just down the road. Since there was nothing more she could do with regard to searching Chancy’s van or antique shop today, she was going to get in her car and head for Mountain Home to buy back the other two collages.

      “Please, God, let them be there,” she prayed under her breath. If those pictures, too, had been passed to new owners she didn’t know what she was going to do.

      Tears of frustration threatened again. She fought them back. Who did she think she was, calling on God for anything? Her whole life had been one sin after another so why would He care what happened to her? She should be thankful no one had caught her driving that van and had her arrested. Instead, she was asking for more favors. What a fool she was.

      Alone now, she climbed out of the overgrown ditch and onto the roadbed where she could dust off the legs of her jeans. It was a little early in the season for chiggers but chances were she’d picked up dozens of ticks or other insect bites by hiding in the brush. Well, that couldn’t be helped. A few itchy places were a small price to pay for having gotten away with car theft.

      She smiled slightly. Maybe, when Sam came home and she told him about her escapade, he’d actually be proud of her.

      “Not unless I get all his keys back,” she countered. That was enough to spur her into a trot. The sooner she drove to Mountain Home and picked up those other pictures, the sooner she could be back in Serenity and resume her search there.

      

      Ted and his old dog came off the porch together to greet Nate and Chancy when they drove in and parked their respective vehicles.

      “I see it was her van,” Ted said. “I watched you pick it up.”

      Nate pulled the keys from the ignition and handed the ring to his grandfather. “Yes. And I suggest you not leave your keys in the truck anymore. It’s too chancy.”

      She joined them with a slightly embarrassed grin. “Was that a pun?”

      “What?” His brow knit. “Oh. No. Sorry. I didn’t think about that being your name. It was just good advice.”

      “In this case I’m afraid I have to agree,” she said, sobering. “I don’t know what this world is coming to. We never used to have to worry about anything like that in Serenity.”

      “Wrong,” Nate replied. “You always needed to, you just refused to see things clearly until today when you were forced to. Overlooking crime won’t make it go away, it just makes you a more likely victim.”

      “Cynic.”

      “Realist is more like it.”

      Ted chuckled. “You two sound like Hester and me when we’re arguing about something. Come on. She’s nearly got supper on the table. We’d best go in.”

      “I’m sorry to have made everything so late,” Chancy said. “I can’t imagine who had my van.”

      The old man’s bushy gray eyebrows arched over twinkling eyes. “You know, if y’all were teenagers, I’d think you’d made up a tall tale so you could go joyridin’ instead of come on home to eat.”

      “We didn’t!” Chancy insisted.

      Ted laughed again. “I know. I keep a pretty close watch on the neighborhood and I didn’t see that van over there till a few minutes before you called and I told you about it.”

      “Did you see who brought it back?” Nate asked.

      “Nope. Sorry. But I do know for sure it wasn’t sittin’ there the whole afternoon.” He looked to Chancy. “If you told the sheriff it was stolen you’d best tell him he can quit lookin’ for it.”

      “That’s right. I totally forgot!” She pulled a face and grimaced at Nate. “And that’s not all I forgot. You’re right about us being too complacent around here. I was so glad to get all my things back, including my purse and cell phone, I never thought about not touching the steering wheel or door handle to preserve fingerprints. I imagine the sheriff is going to be really upset with me.”

      “If the thief is a kid, as I suspect, it’s probably just as well,” Nate said. “I can remember a few times when I was glad the law in Serenity wasn’t as thorough as a city department might be.”

      She eyed him incredulously and saw a light of recognition in his eyes. After asking her to keep quiet about his youthful escapades, he’d just intimated he’d been in trouble and had therefore done exactly what he’d warned her against! It was funny to see a guy who was now so straight-laced struggle to think of a way to cover up his careless comment.

      “Well,” she drawled in his defense, “boys will be boys. Since there was no harm done I guess it’s just as well I messed up the fingerprints. I’m sure we’ve all done a few things we aren’t proud of when we were growing up.”

      Ted laughed as he led the way into the farmhouse. “I have tipped a few outhouses in my time,” he confessed. “But don’t you dare tell Hester. Her pa was sittin’ in one of ’em when I shoved it over. I thought it was her big brother in there. He’d threatened to beat me up if I kissed his sister and I was meanin’ to get him back for it.”

      Chancy covered her mouth to muffle her giggles. “You didn’t!”

      “Yup. I surely did. Boy, was that old man mad. He came boilin’ out of there ready for a fight. I hightailed it for the barn and hid till he went back in the house. Talk about scared. I was sure he’d find out and keep me from marryin’ Hester, but if he knew the truth he never let on.”

      She started to follow Nate and his grandfather into the kitchen when she remembered she’d left her purse in her van. Again. If Nate realized what she’d done she’d be in for another of his lectures and that was not number one on the list of things she’d like to hear.

      “You two go ahead,” she said. “I’ll be right with you. I just need to run back to the van for a second.”

      “Make yourself at home and come on in whenever you’re ready,” Ted said magnanimously.

      Nate followed his grandfather into the kitchen and they both hung their jackets on pegs on the wall. Hester was at the stove, warming the food, and Nate gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as he peeked over her shoulder. “Mmm. Something smells good.”

      “I hope it’s still fit to eat,” she said. “What in the world’s been goin’ on, anyway?”

      “It’s a long story.”

      “Where’s Chancy?”

      “She went to get something out of her van. She’ll be along in a sec.”

      “You be careful you don’t say anything unkind to her or upset her, you hear? She’s had it pretty rough these last few years.”

      “She has? Why?”

      Lowering her voice, the older woman took him aside to explain, “Her folks were killed by that tornado that blew through here a couple of years ago. Remember it?”

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