Chapter One
“Breakfast is ready!” Sela called to her grandfather as she set the food on the table. As the aroma of fried bacon filled the kitchen, she smiled, knowing her grandfather would love the scent.
Thankfully, the last propane tank had enough fuel to fix one more meal before it sputtered out. Although, they’d have to suck it up and eat their eggs soft boiled. After breakfast, she’d load the tanks in the back of the truck and take them to town.
She set a cup of black coffee in front of her grandfather’s plate and then set another doctored with cream and sugar next to hers. She loved coffee. She loved the smell and the taste, as long as she could add cream and sugar. In her opinion, drinking it black was just plain nasty.
“Are you coming to eat, or should I feed it to the pigs?” She glanced up at the sound of his slippers shuffling against the floor. His wrinkled face broke into a grin when he spotted the bacon on the table.
“I knew I smelled bacon.” He inhaled deeply, a big smile splitting his creased face. “You’re spoiling me, girlie.” Pulling out his chair, he sat and surveyed the feast before him. “Doc Schrader is going to have a fit when I tell him you fixed me bacon, eggs, and pancakes again. Whoooee.” Smacking his lips, he rubbed his hands together.
“Don’t get too excited.” Sela shook her head. “I was boiling the eggs when I noticed the gas tanks were almost empty. I figured you’d rather me squander what was left on the bacon before it went sour.
“You figured right.” He picked up a chewy slice and popped it in his mouth. “Mmm... Nothing like the taste of good, hickory-smoked bacon.” He smacked his lips again before digging into the rest of his breakfast. “You sure are a mighty fine cook.” He took a sip of his coffee and closed his eyes. “And you don’t make me drink that decaffeinated stuff, neither.”
“Half and half, Gramps. It’s half and half.” She chuckled at his scowl. “I told you we’d compromise. We both get half and half, and you watch your sugar and salt intake.”
“Can’t be watching no sugar intake while I’m eating pancakes.” He grinned. “But you won’t hear me complain. No siree.”
Sela smiled at the blatant lie. She’d heard him complain plenty of times. However, she’d never once heard him complain about bacon and eggs for breakfast, especially if it came with a side of pancakes.
“Yes, you can. I’ve mixed the pancake syrup with that sugar-free stuff you hate so much. Half and half. I figured it’s only fair, if you have to eat it, so do I.”
“I know I told you that stuff gives me the backdoor trots.” He stared suspiciously at the syrup through narrowed eyes.
“Then, it’s a good thing you’re not staying in the cabin and don’t have to run out the back door to get to the toilet anymore.” She raised a brow. “And don’t go trying to sneak the good stuff, either. There is no good stuff. It’s all mixed together, so watch how much of it you eat if you don’t want it affecting your bowels.”
“You’ve got a lot of sass for a little girl, missy.”
“And you’ve got a lot of nerve complaining about sugar-free syrup for a man whose doctor told him to lay off the sugar and salt.” She eyed his plate. “You know, I could just scrape that in the trough and give you that high fiber cereal you love so much.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” He wrapped his arm around his plate as though to protect it.
“I would, and you know it.” Sela buttered her pancakes before adding a small amount of the syrup mixture to the top of her small stack. She hated having to use the mixture almost as much as her grandfather did.
The last thing she needed was a case of what her grandfather loved calling the backdoor trots when she needed to drive into town and get their tanks filled. If everything went the way it did the last time, she’d be lucky to get the propane. She couldn’t risk having to use someone’s bathroom. They’d likely all be out of order for her.
If she didn’t know better, she would have thought it had something to do with the color of her skin. However, the people of Whitson had treated her father the same way, and he’d been Caucasian.
Like Gramps always said, most times the color of your skin has nothing to do with it, sweetheart. Most people are good, kind, honest folks. And, well, to be blunt, assholes are assholes.
So far, she reckoned he’d been spot on with that assessment. Though most people in town were civil, they did give her a hard time sometimes, especially when she needed something farm related, like propane or equipment repair.
Sela glanced out the window at the tired pickup her father had left her with the house and the bank account. He’d left her everything he owned. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to eke out a living if she worked hard. Like her father and his father before him, she had never been afraid of a little hard work.
Her only concern was the possibility of having to drive all the way to Hot Springs. The people in Whitson, Arkansas supported their benefactor, Cal Johnson.
Cal wanted them off the property her father had left her, and like him, Sela was determined to stay.
“Do you think you’ll be okay if I go to town? There’s macaroni salad and bologna in the fridge for lunch.”
“I’ll be fine.” Gramps waved his hand. “I’m worried about you driving around that town with all those yahoos trying to get into your pants.”
“No one’s trying to get into my pants, Grandpa.” She rested her hands on her hips and shook her head.
“They all want to get into your pants. They’re men. Most men don’t have a lick of honor. Especially those who associate with that ass, Johnson.”
“I hope you’re wrong, Gramps.” Sela finished her breakfast, rinsed her dishes in the sink, and set them in the dishwasher. “I’ll be going now.” Turning, she gave him a mock scowl. “Take care of yourself and don’t eat more than two cups of macaroni salad. If you do, I’ll know, and you won’t get any potatoes with dinner.”
“You sound more like my mother than my granddaughter.” He smiled and held out his arms. “Now give an old man a hug before you go.”
Never one to turn down a hug, Sela hurried over and threw her arms around his neck. “I love you, Gramps.” She kissed him on the cheek and straightened. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
God, she hated leaving him alone. It was too easy to lose someone. Her grandfather was the only family she had left, and she knew how precious and fragile human life could be. Almost everyone she had ever loved had died and left her alone, except for one eccentric old man who was just as sad and lonely as she had become.
They needed propane, and it certainly wasn’t just going to show up on the doorstep. Cal Johnson brought the end of the farm’s propane delivery when she’d still been a teenager, and her grandfather had been hale and hearty. These days, the fuel was difficult to get, and Gramps was pale and nearly as weak as she had been when her father had passed when she was seven.
Sela quickly checked the straps holding the tanks in place in the bed then climbed into the huge, crew cab, 4x4 long box pickup, and headed into town. She’d get her tanks refilled one way or another. She had no choice.