“Okay,” he said. Then he looked at me. “Thanks, Alan.” He grabbed the knife then walked over and picked up his pack.

Casey ran over and hugged me. “Good-bye, Mr. Christoffersen. Thanks for visiting.”

I smiled. “It was my pleasure.”

She went back and got her pack, then both kids walked out the front door.

Analise looked at me curiously. “What was that about?”

“Casey’s a sweet little girl.”

“No, with Christian.”

“I gave him a present. I hope it’s okay. It’s a Swiss Army knife.”

She shook her head. “He’s been asking for one for almost a year. I keep telling him no.”

“Sorry,” I said.

She grinned. “It’s okay. I’m just overprotective. Thank you for doing that for him.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Just a minute.” She left with the carton of milk, then returned. She walked up to me. “I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe I feel like I’m going to cry. I don’t even really know you.”

“You know me better than you think. We belong to the same club.”

She nodded. “I wish I could revoke my membership.”

“We all do.”

She stared into my eyes. “Thank you for giving me hope.” She took something out of her pocket. “Will you take this to Key West with you?”

“What is it?”

“It’s the bracelet I was making when I learned of Matt’s death.” It was a simple black cord with a small pewter oval that said, Believe.

I closed my hand around it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. If you think of it, look me up sometime. You know where to find me.” We embraced. Then she looked into my face, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Bye.”

“Bye, Analise.”

She walked to the door, then turned around. “Just lock the door behind you.”

I nodded and she walked out. I went out to the porch and watched her climb into the truck. She glanced at me as she backed out. Casey waved. So did Christian. Then she drove away.

I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. I wondered if I would ever see her again. I examined the bracelet she’d given me and put it on my wrist. Then I went back inside. I grabbed a banana from the counter, then lifted my pack up over my shoulders, and stepped back out onto the porch. I checked the door to make sure it was locked and pulled it shut.

At the edge of the yard I stopped and looked back at the house. Just another story under the sun, I thought. Then I turned back to the street. It took me less than twenty minutes to cross out of Sidney.

Chapter Twenty

C H A P T E R

Twenty

You can always trust a man

wearing a John Deere cap.

Alan Christoffersen’s diary