More likely Clara wanted to ask questions, but if she said no it might be construed as unfriendly.
"That would be nice. I'll see you then. I'd better get home while the milk is cool."
"Bye, Bye."
She glanced at the station as she passed, but the little blue mustang was gone. Was he the man she had seen on the airplane? If so, it had to be someone her father had sent. Surely it couldn't be coincidence that he had been traveling to Fayetteville from California and then turned up out here in the middle of nowhere. No, Dad had sent him.
Where was he now - at the cabin? Did he know where she was staying? Surely he must or he wouldn't have found her so soon. She frowned.
"Of course," she whispered to herself as she turned into the long drive. "Scott Muldrow must have given Dad a copy of the map."
When she reached the cabin she was relieved to find she was alone. Wherever the little blue car had gone, it had nothing to do with her. It probably wasn't the man she had seen at the airport, after all.
At the cabin she lifted the sack of groceries in one arm and balanced the broom in the other hand. As she climbed the porch steps she noticed something lying in front of the door. She shifted the sack of groceries to get a better look, and froze.