Apparently, Gavin Williams has never heard of the concept of working for a living.
“Where do you need to go?” I ask into the phone. The reception is bad and the line crackles.
Gavin growls in disgust and hangs up. “The airport,” he says. “How much?”
I put my phone back in my pocket. Then I make a show of counting on my fingers. “Let’s see. Gas multiplied by mileage plus time, aww heck, a country girl like me doesn’t know how to do math. Let’s just say…nine thousand dollars.”
Gavin’s eyes flare and I stand my ground.
“And how much to clean up this mess?”
“Nine thousand.”
He steps forward and looks me up and down, clearly not liking what he sees. “I really, really don’t like you.”
I clench my hand, the blood reminding me of everything I just lost. But then, I never had it, did I? “That so? Well, I reckon I really, really don’t like you either.”
He shakes his head in disgust, then he turns, stalks out of the cabin, and slams the door behind him. The door shakes and the angry sound echoes through the big space.
“What do I do now?” I ask the empty room.
Wait, I guess.
He can’t walk all the way down the mountain. He’ll be back.
But five hours later, I have to head home to meet the kids at the bus, and Gavin Williams is nowhere to be seen.