Alpine Glow

Chapter 1-1

1

Bev carefully navigated the turning ribbon of road through the last of the high desert outcroppings. The golden morning light was turning white across the open plains ahead. The road sign read: Alpine 10 Miles.

“Crap.”

She hadn’t anticipated how long the twenty-mile drive from Fort Davis would take. She was late.

Fumbling through her bag, she blindly found the print out she had made at the hotel. She absently sped up on the open stretch of road and read the directions on the dash in front of her. A hand full of hearty cows and a few antelope grazed on the open grassy fields ignoring her as she whizzed by.

The job interview was at 10am, it was 9:57, better call. Fumbling again she found her cell phone. It beeped at her nonchalantly when she opened it. No service, perfect, bad first impression.

The job was only part-time, maybe there wouldn’t be too many applicants. Heck look around, she was the only soul as far as she could see in this part of south Texas. The grassland plains spread for miles, nothing but the smoky mountaintops of Mexico far away in the distance and a few puffy white clouds desperately hanging on the horizon.

The black and white Mustang seemed to materialize from out of nowhere, lights flashing behind her.

“Well, hell,” she muttered and reluctantly slowed, pulling off on the narrow shoulder.

She watched the big, barrel chested officer approach, clipboard in hand. It was a wonder he could cram himself into the small speedy version of a cop car. He was obviously proud of his occupation. His uniform was impeccable, if not a bit tight, his glasses were mirrored, the beige Stetson was brushed. He touched the front brim as he came to the window.

“Ma'am?” The moniker demanded an answer without any further question.

“I’m sorry officer, I'm late for an interview and I wasn’t paying attention.”

“No need for apologies. License and registration please,” he spoke a bit too slowly she thought, deliberately delaying the interchange. She fumbled in her bag once more and produced the documents.

“What exactly are you pulling me over for?” She asked. He ignored the question and glanced at the license.

“Beverly Connors. Is this address current?” She could see herself in his glasses, she was pinching her forehead together in an expression that made her look like her mother.

“Gad,” she thought. “No, I just moved from Denver. I'm staying at a hotel in Fort Davis. Just trying to be a good citizen and get a job.”

As soon as she said it she was sorry. The sarcasm wasn’t lost on him, one eyebrow raised over his glasses.

“Sit tight Miss Connors, I’ll just run this through the computer,” he smiled mechanically and walked slowly back to his car.

She would never get there. It was the only job in the classified section of the tiny paper that had even remotely interested her.

Wanted, Freelance Writer for the Alpine Avalanche

Part time. Paid by the story.

She glanced in the mirror. Officer Macho was still in the driver’s seat, he seemed to fill the cab. "I can’t believe they can fit a computer in there," she thought to herself. "Was he taking a drink of coffee!?" She dropped her shoulders, took a deep breath and gave in.

Her situation wasn't all bad. The air was still cool and smelled sweet coming over the grasses into her open window. That was one of the unexpected pleasures she had discovered coming to this part of the country. How cool the nights were. It reminded her of home. It was one of the reasons she had decided to stay. Or try to. Without work she would have to keep moving. Finally, there was movement behind her.

“Miss Connors,” he handed back her papers with one more. “I’m citing you for exceeding the speed limit. You were going 79 in a 60.”

“Oh, come on! I just told you I'm new in town, a tourist! I had no idea!”

He ignored her pleas, “You will have to contact the courthouse in Fort Davis to pay your fine within two weeks. It's written on the back along with the phone number.” He slowly removed his glasses and leaned on the roof of the car. For the first time she could see his eyes, grey, long lashed and set slightly close together. If she didn’t know better she’d say they were twinkling. He was actually enjoying this cat and mouse game!

She leveled her gaze to his, “I believe I will appeal this, Officer...?” She looked frantically for his name on the ticket and then his badge.

“Gant,” he responded, pulling his name badge out from his shirt for her to see. “Samuel Gant, Miss Connors.”

“It's Mrs,” she retorted, “and I am extremely late, will there be anything else?” Her hands were gripping the wheel causing her knuckles to turn white.

“No, Ma'am.” He straightened and replaced his sunglasses, “Just slow down...Mrs. Connors.”

She pulled back onto the road. Of all the nerve. Slow down. She purposely floored the accelerator until she reached 60. It seemed as if she was crawling. Now she desperately needed the job that she hadn’t even interviewed for. How much were speeding tickets in the middle of nowhere? What a racket. Her ranting brought her to the edge of town.