Home to Walnut Ridge (20 page)

“
What? You don’t like
Bike?”

She laughed, pinching his elbow which
made him howl. “Bike. Such a creative, clever name for such a
beautiful, sleek Harley.” She put her arm around his waist as he
wrapped his arm around her.

“
I thought you’d like it.”
He looked down into her eyes. “You ready?”

“
As ready as I’ll ever
be.”

Noah explained the protocol for group
rides like this. Tracey was fascinated to learn how
safety-conscious they were.

“
Your dad’s riding lead
today. That means he’ll ride at the head of the pack, staying to
the left side of the lane. The rest of us stagger behind
him‌—‌right, left, right, left. Now, if you were riding solo and it
was your first time, you’d ride in that second slot just to the
right behind the lead. That way, we’d have you surrounded should
anything go wrong.”

“
But since I’m with you, I
won’t be treated like a newbie?”

“
That’s right. Just before
we start up, Buddy will determine what hand signals we’ll use
today. It’s important to know those.”

“
What kind of hand
signals?”

Noah extended his hand down toward the
ground and pointed. “If you see Buddy or anyone do this, it means
there’s something in the road that could be hazardous. Like pieces
of tires, debris, that sort of thing. When he extends his left hand
at a forty-five degree angle and moves his hand up and down, low
like this, it means slow down. He may see something ahead that you
can’t see, so you obey his lead.”

“
I always have,” Tracey
quipped.

He went through several other hand
signals. Speed up, ride in a single line instead of two by two,
stop, left turn, right turn, and pull off the road.

“
Well, all I can say is
I’m glad you know what you’re doing. I’d be lost before we even
left the driveway.”

“
You’ll get the hang of
it. And you need to know the hand signals as well as I do. Keeps us
both alert so we don’t take any chances.” He mounted his bike and
motioned for her to do the same. “Hop on.”

She started to the helmet
on.

“
Hold off with that until
Buddy gives his instructions.”

“
Oh, okay.” Tracey
casually climbed onto her seat in back. “Is it true what they call
these back seats?” she asked with a smile.

He chuckled. “I’m afraid
so. How about we call it a
princess
seat
today instead?”

“
Much better.”

Just then, a bike roared up the
driveway. Tracey recognized the older model black Road King,
knowing immediately it was Gristle. A young woman rode behind him
covered head to toe in black leather. He pulled up beside them and
cut his engine. Gristle pulled off his helmet.

“
Will someone
please
tell this pretty
young thang that it is NOT cool to be late for a HOG ride?! GLORY,
if the sistah don’t take fo-EV-ah to doll up her pretty lil’ seff
and make me LATE!”

She pulled off her helmet,
a radiant smile filling her face. “Don’t you all be listenin’ to
him. He was supposed to
call
me at six to make sure I was up. But did he call?
No, he did not. It’s a miracle we got here at all!” She laughed,
climbing off the bike. “Hey, bikers! Since Gregory forgot to
introduce me, I’ll just do it myself. I’m Maleeka. And thanks for
waiting for us.”

Gregory?
Then Tracey remembered Gristle’s real name‌—‌Greg
Sells. She leaned over, extending her hand. “Hi, Maleeka. I’m
Tracey, and this is Noah.”

The introductions were made quickly
through the dozen or so other riders, all men. Tracey knew most of
them, introduced herself to those she didn’t. All the while Gristle
carried on and on about his girlfriend’s disregard for biker
protocol.

“
I’m so glad you’re here,
Tracey,” Maleeka said, climbing back on Gristle’s bike. “Gregory
told me there’d be another girlfriend here today.”

Tracey blushed at the term knowing
Noah heard it. She caught a slight tilt of a smile before he turned
back around. “I’m glad you came too, Maleeka.”

“
Okay, listen up!” Buddy
called. “Looks like a beautiful day for a ride. Let’s go over our
hand signals just to make sure we’re all on the same
page.”

He demonstrated the various gestures,
many like the ones Noah had just shown her. After a few minutes,
Buddy said. “Looks like we’re ready to ride. Let’s have a word of
prayer.”

For a moment, Tracey was surprised. It
seemed odd for a bunch of bikers to bow their heads in prayer
before taking off. Then she realized Buddy Collins would never miss
an opportunity to pray before something like this.

“
Father, thank You for
this spectacular fall morning. We ask for Your hedge of protection
as we ride today. Give us safe roads and sweet, sweet travel. And
as we ride, help us be mindful of the beauty surrounding us. The
changing leaves. The wildlife. The clear blue skies. Help us ride
with a mindset of praise and thanks for You and the glory of Your
creation all around us. We give this day to You, Lord. And the
people said?”

“
AMEN!”

“
Let’s ride!”

As soon as helmets were in
place, the bikes came to life, their roar eclipsing all other
sounds on what had been a quiet Saturday morning.
Boom boom boom! Boom boom boom!
Tracey got goose bumps, feeling the rumble of the
engine beneath her as it rocked the bike. With so many other
engines revving to life, it felt like the ground beneath them
literally trembled.

Even with the thunder of so much noise
all around them, she noticed the unique sound of the engines.
Adjusting her headset, she asked Noah why.

“
It’s Harley’s trademark
sound‌—‌
potato-potato-potato
. I love it,
don’t you?”

She smiled, watching Maleeka grab
handfuls of Gristle’s black leather jacket, her eyes already
squeezed shut behind her sunglasses. Tracey chuckled, remembering
her first ride with her father not so long ago. Buddy led them all
down the long driveway, everyone taking their place behind him just
as Noah had described. Turning out of the drive onto the road, the
cycles roared even louder, announcing their departure to the sleepy
little town.

As Noah pulled out onto
the road, he took his place in the line-up and accelerated. Tracey
couldn’t believe how exhilarating it was to be a part of this.
“HEY, NOAH!” she shouted. “I
LOVE
THIS!”

“
You don’t have to shout,
Tracey! Remember?” She watched his helmet shake side to side and
imagined him rolling his eyes.

She laughed. “Sorry about that! I
can’t help it. This is GREAT!”

Just as they were about to pass Emma’s
Coffee Shop, she noticed someone holding a Styrofoam cup in one
hand and making a bunch of animated motions toward the bikers with
the other. As they passed, she recognized Deacon Stone‌—‌his face
purple with rage, his mouth in angry motion. She could only imagine
the contempt spewing out of his mouth.

She shouldn’t have, but she couldn’t
help it. As they passed, she waved at the gnarly old guy and with a
big smile shouted, “GOOD MORNING, DEACON!”

He clamped his mouth shut and threw
the coffee cup down on the ground sending a splash of brown all
over the sidewalk.

“
What’s his problem?” Noah
asked.

“
He’s just hateful, that’s
all.”

“
Obviously. But what’s
that all about?”

Tracey leaned back, proud of herself
for no longer needing to clutch Noah’s back. “Actually, it’s kind
of a long story.”

“
We’ve got nothing but
time,” he said, turning his head so she could see his
smile.

“
I think it all stems back
to years ago‌—‌maybe ten or fifteen; I’ve lost track. Deacon has a
son named Thad. Only child. And all along, I guess Deacon assumed
Thad would grow up and work in the family real estate office.
Problem was, Thad had no interest in real estate. And if you ask
me, I bet he mostly just wanted to work
anywhere
but with his
dad.

“
Thad was a smart kid.
Really popular too. Quarterback of the football team, pitched for
the baseball team. But he couldn’t handle all his dad’s constant
pressure. So during his senior year in high school, he started
visiting Dad at the church, asking advice on what to do with his
life and how to follow his own interests when all the while his dad
never let up on him. Dad counseled Thad, trying to help him find
out what the Lord wanted him to do. And in the end, Thad wanted to
go to Middle Tennessee State. He’d had all kinds of offers for
football scholarships. Then, without telling his father, he signed
with MTSU.

“
When the news came out,
Deacon was furious. He stormed into Dad’s office and accused him of
undermining Deacon’s role as a father, of telling his kid to go
against his father’s wishes‌—‌all that stuff. Apparently, it was
pretty ugly because Dad refused to tell us what Deacon said to him
that day. And ever since then, Deacon’s had it out for
Dad.”

“
The man sure knows how to
hold a grudge,” Noah said.

“
It’s more than that,
really,” Tracey continued. “He’s so shady in all his real estate
dealings. It’s no secret, but everyone’s afraid of him, so nobody’s
ever blown the whistle on him.”

“
Every town has its bully,
I guess.”

“
I guess so. What really
irks me is how he takes advantage of so many of our older folks.
He’s been quietly buying up property for years. All of it’s legal,
or so they say. But it’s completely unethical. He approaches senior
adults when they’re either in some kind of grief over losing a
spouse, or facing some kind of medical or financial bind. He ‘buys’
their house from them for pennies on the dollar, then lets them
live in their own homes rent-free until they die.”

“
What a guy. He’s all
heart, isn’t he?”

“
He makes me sick. He’s
conned so many widows in this area, it’s obscene. But so far
nobody’s been able to prosecute him. He stays just within the law,
like I said. But he’s knowingly taking advantage of these people.
Dad’s tried for years to put an end to it, but Deacon always finds
a way out. He really is a snake. I hate the guy for all the grief
he’s given Dad over the years. I just wish he’d drop dead and give
the whole town some peace for a change.”

“
That’s a little harsh,
don’t you think? Wishing him dead?”

“
Probably. But
still . . .”

They rode in silence for a while. An
hour into their trip, they turned onto the Natchez Trace Parkway.
The historic, winding, two-lane road stretched 444 miles from
Nashville, cutting through the northwest corner of Alabama, and
ending at Natchez, Mississippi. With the autumn leaves at their
peak, the drive was breathtaking. Here and there they’d spot deer
grazing in wide, open fields. Now and then, Noah pointed out
chicken hawks in flight, and once they even saw a bald
eagle.

Tracey closed her eyes,
breathing in the crisp, cool air as it rushed past her. She tried
to remember what it was like working in the pressure cooker that
was Washington D.C. She smiled broadly when she realized it had
been several days since she’d given her life there more than a
passing thought.
How quickly I’ve grown
accustomed to this life,
she
thought.
And I love it. I honestly love
it. This is where I belong.

She opened her eyes again,
realizing how much Noah was a part of those feelings. Tracey tried
to keep her emotions in check‌—‌at least until she knew it was safe
to let go of her heart and love him the way she wanted to.
Give him time,
she
reminded herself.
Give him
time.

“
What’re you smiling at
back there?” he asked, breaking her thoughts.

Thankful for the sunglasses that hid
her eyes, she quipped, “None of your business.”

She could see his face in the rearview
mirror and watched him smile. She reached up, placing her hand at
his waist, deciding to leave it there a while. As if reading her
mind, he placed his gloved hand over hers, apparently deciding to
leave it there a while too.

Not a bad way to spend an
autumn day . . .

Chapter 18

Tracey was surprised how quickly the
miles flew beneath them. They’d stopped only once at an overlook
for a rest break before continuing their ride to Tupelo. She and
Noah talked at times, but for the most part they’d ridden along
listening to a random assortment of tunes over the Harley’s radio
piped through their headsets.

They stopped for lunch, taking a short
detour on Highway 20 to Florence, Alabama. There, they feasted on
platters of fried catfish, shrimp, slaw, and hush puppies, while
sipping sweet tea. Afterward, they headed back to the Parkway and
once again enjoyed the bright blue skies above as they
traveled.