Bitterroot Crossing by Tess Oliver Read Free Book Online Page B

I have no idea why I’m defending them at all. They are morons. And now I’ll shut up and stop babbling like a moron.”
        “Please, don’t stop babbling. You’re the only person who’s talked to me all morning. Actually, that’s not true. Tina and I had a nice chat in the bathroom about my grandma’s pumpkin muffins, the ones the rats are snacking on at this moment.”
        I moved over to the long silver counter where the food was displayed. It was hard to recognize what some of it was. I stopped in front of the first warming tray and stared down at what I was almost certain purported to be macaroni and cheese. I glanced up at Nick. He shook his head so I moved on. There were tuna sandwiches, premade and wrapped in cellophane. I took one figuring they couldn’t destroy the taste of a tuna sandwich too badly.
        Nick lowered a bowl of chocolate pudding onto my tray. “You look like a girl who loves chocolate, and this pudding is actually decent.”
        “Thanks.” I stopped in front of the drink choices. There were many. Nick grabbed a soda.  He motioned to a table near the glass doors. “I’ll be over there if you feel like sitting with me.” He continued on to the cashier.
        Tray in hand and drink choice made, I walked toward the cashier. I heard a giggle that made my shoulders shrink up around my ears. Tina had apparently joined the lunch eaters. She stood at a nearby table talking animatedly to a group of girls. From the hand gestures she was making, it seemed she was recounting the lunch in toilet incident. She was obviously quite proud of her feat. I decided to ignore her, although I was no longer sure about sitting with Nick.
        I paid the lunch lady, turned, and headed to the nearest table trying to walk as smoothly as possible. Before I could stop my forward motion, a foot jutted in front of me. My tray flew from my hands and I fell face first toward the ugly tile floor. I shut my eyes and braced for the pain, but hands grabbed both my arms a split second before my hands and face slapped the floor. A loud, simultaneous gasp sucked through the room like a giant vacuum. There were several shrill screams, and I heard pairs of feet pounding toward the exit.
        For a moment, I wondered if I’d been knocked out and was only dreaming that strong hands held me. I stared straight at a granola bar wrapper that was just inches from my nose and then the hands lifted me upright.
        “I’ve got her,” Nick’s voice wafted toward me through my cloud of humiliation.
        “No, I’ve got her.” It was another voice less familiar and yet one I’d heard recently. That’s when I realized the hand holding my right arm was cold. I was being held upright by Nick Crush and his great-great-grandfather.
        I got my bearings and looked up at the ghost. “Zedekiah, when did you leave the swamp?” The words tumbled from my lips in disbelief.
        He flashed me a sly but not altogether unappealing smile. “Who said I ever went back?”
        “How’d you get in the cafeteria?” I asked still amazed that he was standing right next to me looking almost alive and holding my arm with solid fingers.
        “Ahh, that,” he turned and waved to some big, dumbfounded looking guy in a sports jersey. The guy didn’t return the wave, but he did look as if he might wet his pants at any minute. Zedekiah returned his smile to me. “Let’s just say I can be very persuasive.”
        “But there were no sirens,” I said wondering if I hadn’t indeed been knocked unconscious and was at this very moment lying face down in my pudding.
        Zedekiah waved his hand in dismissal sending a sharp, bitter smelling breeze past my face and solidifying the fact that I was not dreaming any of this. “The gang always likes to make a big show of leaving the swamp. They were never great at sneaking up on people either.”
        “Listen, Gramps, I’ve got her so you can get