Outside of Sidney there was a lot of road construction and enough detours that at times, even with my map, I wasn’t sure if I was walking in the right direction. Kind of like my life. One detour led me to a road that didn’t even appear on my map. After an hour of walking along a narrow, two-lane country road, a man pulled up next to me in a red Dodge pickup truck. He was about my age and wore a John Deere cap. He rolled down his window. “You’re going the wrong way.”

“How do you know that?” I asked.

“The only people going that way, live there. Where are you headed?”

“St. Joseph.”

“Yeah, you know that last road you passed—about a half mile back?”

“The dirt one?”

He nodded. “Yeah. You wanted to take that. It’s only dirt for about a hundred yards, then it’s asphalt again. It runs south and reconnects with 29. I’m going that way, I’d be happy to give you a ride.”

“Thank you, but I’m committed to walking.”

“Good on ya,” he said. “Remember, back a half mile to that dirt road. There’s no sign and it breaks up a little bit in places, but don’t let it scare you. When you come to a T in the road you’re going to want to turn right. That will get you to the 29. Got it?”

“Take a right at the T.”

“Perfect.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“Don’t mention it.” He rolled up the window then pulled away, spinning a U-turn in front of me. I realized that he had actually gone past his turnoff to help me.

The road the man had directed me to alternated between pavement and dirt but was always surrounded by cornfields. Just as he said, the road led me south, intersecting again with 29, which ran all the way to the Missouri state line.

There wasn’t much to see, and my mind wandered. I thought a lot about Analise. I wondered what would become of her. I barely knew her, yet I cared about her. As I pondered this phenomenon I learned something about myself: I’ve always been a sucker for a damsel in distress. Always. And that included McKale.

Pamela had asked if McKale would have needed me the way she did if she had been a better mother. The question I’d never asked was, would I have been as attracted to McKale if she hadn’t needed me? Had I seen McKale in Analise’s pain?

I didn’t know. I don’t think I wanted to. So I forced my mind to other things and just kept walking. Four days later I reached the city of St. Joseph.

Chapter Twenty-one