Spencerville

Sue commented, "If I see you looking at that postwoman again, you will be a gelding."

On that note, Keith stood and said, "Thanks for the coffee. Mind if I take one of them now?"

"Go right ahead. Gelding's name is Willy, mare is Hilly. Hilly and Willy. Kids named 'em."

Keith went out to the barn and found the stable door. Inside, the two horses stood in their stalls, feeding. He opened both stalls, and the horses wandered out. Keith slapped them both on the flanks, and they ran out into the paddock.

He went out and watched them awhile. The gelding was sort of listless, but the young mare had a lot of spirit.

He found a bridle in the tack room and approached the mare, getting the bridle on her, then tied her to the fence post while he got a blanket and saddle. He saddled her up and walked her out the gate. Keith mounted and rode toward his farm, across the road, and out toward a wooded area that ran along a creek between his farm and the one to the west.

He got into the trees and rode down to the creek, which was nearly dry. He headed south through the creek bed, following it downstream toward Reeves Pond.

It was quiet except for the flowing water and a few birds. This was nice. His father never kept horses, and most farmers didn't, because they cost money and had no practical use. Now what extra money a farmer had for fun went into snowmobiles and road bikes, noisy things that went too fast for thinking and looking. Keith liked the feel of the animal beneath him, its warmth and living movement, and its occasional snort and whi

He and A

He gave the horse its lead, and it seemed content to follow the creek with a good gait.

Any thought he'd had about spending the rest of his life here, he realized, wasn't possible as long as Baxter was around. He'd let Baxter bait him, and he'd risen to the bait. This was bad strategy.

He reflected on his objective, which was not to engage Cliff Baxter in a contest, but to engage Mrs. Baxter in conversation. If nothing else, he'd like to speak to her one more time, for an hour or two, and resolve whatever issues remained between them. They'd never done that in their letters, and Keith felt he couldn't get on with his life until he understood clearly how and why they'd parted.

The next item on that agenda, of course, would be to see if they wanted to get back together. He thought she did, he thought he did.

Cliff Baxter obviously was an impediment to that, but it might be better for all concerned if Keith simply went around him rather than take him on. This was what he'd advise a young intelligence man on assignment in a dangerous environment.

The creek widened, and the trees thi

He reined the horse to the left and began riding along the muddy shoreline.

If this were actually a mission in a foreign country, he thought, it would be relatively easy to run off with the enemy's prize possession. But this was not exactly the same as escaping a foreign country with a codebook or a defector. No, there was another dimension to this problem.

A

It occurred to him that neither he nor A

Another option, of course, was to pack up, get in his car, and get as far away from here as he could. But he kept thinking of A

Keith came around the far end of the lake and started back along the opposite shore.

Maybe, he thought, Cliff Baxter could be reasoned with. The three of them should sit down, have a beer, and talk it out in a civilized ma

Cliff Baxter, of course, would go for his gun. But if Cliff Baxter had the power of articulate speech, if he were in fact a civilized and clever man, he'd reply, "Mr. Landry, you think you love my wife, but more likely you're obsessed with a long-ago memory that has no reality now. Also, you're a little bored since being forcibly retired, and you're looking for adventure. Add to that the fact that you don't like me because of some childhood conflicts, and taking my wife is your way of getting back at me. This is not healthy, Mr. Landry, nor is it fair to A

Keith didn't like what Baxter said at all, because it had a grain of truth in it.

In reality, there would be no such meeting, and Keith Landry, Cliff Baxter, and A

On that note, Keith entered the tree line and found the creek. He headed back to the farm, resolved now to pack his bags and leave home again, as he'd done twenty-five years before, but this time with less expectation of ever coming back.

Chapter Fifteen

Early that evening, Keith sat at the kitchen table, trying to draft a final letter to A

He wrote, "Dear A

There. That was it. He put the letter in an envelope and addressed it care of her sister.

He stood and looked around the kitchen. He'd packed a few things, but his heart wasn't in it.

He knew he should mail the letter after he'd left, and he knew he should leave very soon, before something else happened to affect his decision. Every day he stayed here opened the possibility of a confrontation with Baxter, or the possibility of seeing A

You arrived in life, he reflected, at a time not of your own choosing, then you stayed for a time, also not of your own choosing, and finally, you left, and the only choice you had then was to leave early, but not one moment later than the time you were allotted. Between your arrival and your departure, however, you had some real choices, but choices came in four varieties — good and bad, hard and easy. The good ones were usually the hard ones.