Running Barefoot - Page 74/95

“Josie?” Samuel’s voice prodded and I realized he had asked me a question.

“Hmm?” I found myself back in my kitchen, Samuel looking down at me with one eyebrow peaked, patiently waiting for my response.

“What are you doing today?” He repeated.

I glanced at the clock. “I go into the shop at 11:00 - work until 2:30, and then I walk over to the church and teach piano lessons until 7:00ish. What about you?”

“Kick around with my grandpa until you’re done at 7:00ish.” His eyes crinkled a little, hinting at a smile, and softening his assumption that I would be at his disposal as soon as lessons were over. My heart skipped wildly, and I resisted the urge to glance down at my chest to see if the skipping was noticeable under my thin shirt.

The back door off the kitchen swung open, and I jumped guiltily, although Samuel stood several feet away. My dad stuck his white head around the door frame, standing a few steps down on the back stoop. “Hey Jos?”

“Yeah, Dad?”

“I don’t think I told you, me ‘n Jacob are headin’ out to the Book Cliffs this weekend. Jacob drew out a tag in the bow-hunt out there. We’ve got some days comin’ now that shutdowns are done at the plant, so we’re gonna take the trailer and the horses and go see if we can get us an elk.”

The Book Cliffs were in Moab, about five hours southeast of Levan. They were named the Book Cliffs because that’s what the mountains looked like - books lined up in a bookshelf. It was breathtaking country, and every hunting tag in that area was hard to come by and highly coveted. The only thing my dad liked as well as horses was hunting, and I knew he must be tickled pink about Jacob drawing out.

“Are Jared and Johnny going too?”

“Jared hasn’t been given permission,” my dad grumbled, referring to Tonya’s position as head of the household, “and Johnny’s afraid to leave with the twins being so close to comin’, so it’s just Jake and me. I think Marv might come with us, though.” Marv was Jacob’s father-in-law who didn’t miss many hunts either.

“When are you leaving?”

“I’m thinking we’ll head out later on today and probably be gone til’ next Thursdee or Fridee.” My dad hemmed and hawed, as if I would complain about him being gone the six or seven days he was suggesting.

“Sounds fun.” I shrugged.

“You can come,” my dad offered insincerely.

“Ha, ha, ha, Daddy,” I said sarcastically. “Now what if I said I wanted to, what would you do? Whose bed in the trailer would I take?” I laughed at his chagrined expression. I walked to him and kissed his scratchy cheek. “No thank you, but have a lovely time. And thank you for giving me the heads up. Actually, while you’re gone, I think I will play the piano until all hours of the night and eat chocolate cake for every meal,” I teased.

My dad eyed me soberly for a moment. “That’d be real nice, Jos. It’s been a while since I’ve heard you play. Maybe you could play a little somethin’ for me when I get back; I sure do miss it.” He said the words softly, searching my face as he spoke them. I flushed, realizing Samuel was hearing the exchange.

“It’s a date, Dad,” I said lightly, patting his cheek and turning from him.

I expected Samuel to comment on my dad’s request, but he let it rest, kneeling to greet Yazzie as he lumbered into the kitchen from his ‘bed’ in the washroom. Yazzie didn’t sleep in my room anymore. He was ten years old, an old-timer in dog years, and he didn’t like climbing stairs, although every once in a while I would wake with him sprawled across my feet. I think sometimes he missed the old days. I missed them too, although on his rare visits I awoke to no feeling in my legs and feet.

“Hey Samuel,” my dad swung his gaze to where Samuel crouched. “You’re welcome to come along. I wouldn’t mind seein’ some real shootin.’ We got room for one more man.” My dad glanced at me apologetically as he clarified ‘one more man.’ Apparently my dad had learned a little something about Samuel’s expertise at the barbeque on Sunday.

“No thank you, Sir.” Samuel said politely. “I’ve done all the hunting I want to do for a while.” A flicker of embarrassment crossed Samuel’s face, as if he’d spoken without thinking.

My dad grinned as if Samuel had said something funny and ducked his head back around the corner without further comment, the screen door banging behind him.

“Hey, boy.” Samuel didn’t do the baby talk thing when he talked to Yazzie. His voice was mild and low, and he spent another minute scratching and stroking the big dog. Yazzie yawned widely, leaning into Samuel’s big hands, his eyes rolling back in his noble head and his tongue hanging out in sheer delight.

Eventually, Samuel looked up at me and said simply, “I’ll see you later.” Yazzie and I followed him to the front door. Samuel waved a hand and stepped outside, striding across the lawn and up the street towards his grandparent’s house. Yazzie and I watched him forlornly - identical expressions on our mugs. “Oh for goodness sake!” I laughed, looking down at Yazzie. Yazzie ‘ruffed’ back at me, as if to say “Look who’s talking,” before he shuffled away to find breakfast.

Samuel must have tested all the doors and found the one that was unlocked, because he was waiting outside the church’s little side entrance when I walked my last student out to her bike. I was ridiculously glad that I didn’t have to make friendly small talk with a waiting parent. Or introduce Samuel. I’d had some well-meaning friends try to fix me up in the last few years, and I had had to get downright obstinate with a few folks who just couldn’t stop playing matchmaker. I’d refused every date they’d arranged. Imagine how the tongues would wag when I was seen with Samuel. All bets would be off - I would have no excuse. I would be lined up with every cousin, brother, and sister’s roomate’s uncle from now ’til Christmas. I shuddered at the very thought.