“No, of course not, but I’ll need a drink.”
“Alright.”
“Eleanor? You’re cutting out. Oh, hell!” Emmett ended the call and gripped his wheel, trying not to think about this latest annoyance. He didn’t want to see the damage on the car. Not until it was parked under cover and he had a drink in his hand.
Mrs. Weaver was still making her way down the road, behind the truck, behind Emmett, with a few cars behind her. The visibility had improved after the torrential curtain of rain had passed over the Bluff. Now she could move over to keep one wheel on the shoulder, so people could overtake her buggy more easily. Why they were always in such a hurry, even when the Lord chose to send us rain, she did not know. She squinted, seeing an obstacle in her path. Something must have fallen off a truck
