“Come over sometime and I’ll get out the cards and do a real reading just for you. I might even put on my costume and dance for you,” she teased.

“Still not biting!” He waved over his shoulder.

She finished her tea and tossed a couple of bills on the table for a tip. She’d planned to grab a hamburger at the Dairy Queen and hit Walmart for supplies when she left Ringgold that morning. But she’d seen the café on the west side of the highway as she came into town, and there were two police cars as well as dozens of trucks in the parking lot. Any place where ranchers and police both ate had to be good, and she had not been disappointed. As she walked out the door, she fished her phone from her purse and punched in the first number on speed dial. Blaze picked up on the first ring.

“Was I right? Are you on your way home?” he asked.

“You were not right and you had no right to yell at me. Are you finished sulking? I want to tell you about Raylen.”

“I wasn’t sulking, and who is Raylen?” her best friend, Blaze, asked.

She told him all about everything that had happened since she arrived in Ringgold. “And I’ve got a job starting in the morning.”

“You won’t last,” Blaze said. “Some people are born to be still. Others to travel. Me and you are travelers, sweetheart.”

“Want to bet?” she asked.

“No, I don’t want to take your money. You’re goin’ to need it to buy a trailer when you come back, but you can always crash on my couch,” he said.

“I’m hanging up on that note. Good-bye, Blaze,” she said.

“Bye, sweetheart,” he said.

A warm wind blew up from the south, swirling leaves around her truck tires. Black birds hopped around in search of free food but found very little. Liz wished she’d tucked the leftover corn bread into her purse to give them. Next time she’d remember that they were there. She opened the door to her truck and slid into the driver’s seat. She put in a Christmas CD called Now That’s What I Call a Country Christmas that she’d gotten the year before. Kellie Pickler made Liz smile when she sang “Santa Baby” and talked about her Christmas list. Liz’s list wasn’t long. Maybe, just maybe, Santa would have time to throw that last item in the sleigh and she’d get her cowboy by Christmas.

She thought about what Blaze and her mother and aunt would be doing that day as she drove from the café to the Walmart store across town, and made a mental note to put laundry detergent on her shopping list. Doing laundry at home instead of in a commercial laundromat would be so different than Monday morning in the carnival business. That was the day the crew tore everything down, got the animals into the trucks, and got everything ready to roll to the next location. Those who weren’t busy with that job used the time to visit the local coin- operated laundry. Tuesday and Wednesday were travel days, with the hopes of arriving at their next gig sometime before dark on Wednesday. From the time they pulled into the parking lot, pasture, or wherever they were paid to set up, a flurry of activity took place to get things ready for the opening night, which was usually Thursday. Then it was nonstop work until Sunday evening when they turned off the lights and started tearing down again.