He doesn't turn around, but his shoulders go an inch tighter.
He knowsexactlywhere I am.
Hadley's hand has gone white on the sweet tea glass.
Todd makes small talk about Garrison. A cousin who had a baby. A neighbor named Linda who's been asking after her. The funeral home on Main Street that just got new owners. Garrett's mama wanting Hadley to come up for the anniversary next month.
Todd opens his mouth like he's got more small-town gossip lined up—somebody else's baby, somebody else's funeral, somebody else's reason for Hadley to come back to Garrison—and Hadley cuts him off.
"Thank you for stopping by, Todd."
Her voice is even. Polite. Texas-raised and steel-spined.
It's a voice I haven't heard out of her before. I've heard her exhausted. I've heard her wary. I've heard her tender.
I haven't heard her use the voice she's using right now, which is the voice of a woman whose entire body is bracing for something her brain hasn't admitted yet.
The voice of a woman ending a conversation she can't end any other way.
Todd's smile flickers. He hears it, even if he doesn't read it. He keeps going. "You sure you're doin' all right? Garrett would want me to?—"
I clear my throat.
Just once. From the bottom of the porch steps.
Todd looks down at me.
He turns finally, like he's just now remembering I exist and pastes the smile back on. "I'm sorry—I didn't catch your name."
"Rogue."
He waits for more. I don't give it to him.
"Rogue," he repeats. The name sits awkward in his mouth. "That's a nickname?"
"Yes, sir."
He glances down at my forearm—at the Shotgun Saints patch inked there—and back up to my face. His Adam's apple moves once. "You work for the ranch?"
"Yes, sir."
"What do you do?"
I hold his eyes for a second longer than is polite. "I'm Mrs. Cross' supervisor."
He looks at Hadley, looks at me and looks back at Hadley.
He's reading the room and he doesn't like what he's reading.
He says, "Well. I'll let you get back to your day, honey. Maybe I'll come by again before I head home. Just to check in."
Hadley says, "Call ahead next time, Todd."
Todd's smile flickers. "Of course," he says. "Of course, honey."
He goes down the porch steps. I let him pass. I follow him back across the gravel toward the gate, six feet behind him the entire way.
At the Explorer, he turns.