The Broken Road (The Broken Series) by K.S. Ruff Read Free Book Online

about the
fellowship and DC. The day and the debate left me feeling exhausted and a bit
overwhelmed. As soon as I made it back to my room, I ordered room service for
dinner. I passed out cold with the tray of food still warm on my bed.
    *
* * * * *
    My
return flight to Montana wasn’t scheduled until four o’clock, so the nose
bleeder picked me up for an early lunch… in a Jaguar . Instead of
driving to a restaurant, he merged onto a highway leading out of town. He was
quiet, so I sat and pondered how stupid I was to get into a car with a complete
stranger. Well, he’s not a complete stranger , I reasoned with myself. We
had spent a good three hours together on the plane, and I knew his name wasn’t
really nose bleeder… it was Frank.
    Frank
exited the highway. We drove through a quaint looking community before he
turned onto a narrow, heavily treed road. “I have a surprise for you,” he
announced with a smile.
    My
mouth fell open when I saw the large wooden sign welcoming us to Great Falls
Park. “This is the park you were telling me about on the plane! Does the park
have a restaurant?”
    Frank
paid the park ranger before easing his car into a nearby parking space. “No. I
hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of packing our lunch. I hope you
like wine and cheese.”
    And
just like that, I was ready to forgive the blood.
    Frank
handed me a large red and black checkered blanket. “I brought a couple of extra
blankets in case we get cold.” He grabbed two more blankets and a picnic basket
from the trunk of the car. He smiled as we began walking toward the entrance to
the park.
    We
passed by a large group of people as we walked along a wide gravel trail. I
couldn’t see the falls, but a soft rumbling noise sounded just off to my left.
Frank steered me to the right as he cut across the grass. He set the extra
blankets and the picnic basket under a massive tree.  I helped him spread the
red and black checkered blanket on the ground. He reached for the picnic basket
as I kicked my shoes off and kneeled on the blanket.
    I
couldn’t believe the guy had a real picnic basket. My limited experience with
picnics generally involved cramming power bars and bottled water into my
backpack. I hadn’t seen a full-on picnic basket before.
    My
jaw dropped when Frank pulled small green stoneware plates, wine glasses, a
couple of knives, and white linen napkins from the basket. After arranging
three blocks of cheese and a container of tapenade on a wood cutting board, he
unwrapped a small loaf of French bread and opened a bottle of red wine. “I hope
you like Chianti,” he said as he handed me a glass.
    I
just shook my head and laughed. “I love Chianti.”
    Frank
tapped his glass against mine. “ Salute .”
    “ Salute ,”
I echoed before taking a sip of wine. I hummed in appreciation. The wine left soft,
lingering notes of cinnamon and plums on my tongue. I gazed out over the
heavily treed park. I couldn’t believe how green Virginia was in March. Montana
was still brown and soggy from melting snow. My eyes slowly returned to Frank.
“So tell me about your family,” I prompted as I propped my chin on my knees. I
figured it was a pretty safe topic for conversation since he was wearing a
wedding ring.
    Frank
leaned against the trunk of the tree and studied his glass of wine. “My wife
and two daughters live in upstate New York. I maintain a place in Reston, since
I have to be here for work, but I often fly back to New York so I can spend
weekends with them.”
    “That
must be difficult… having a job that requires you to work so far away from your
family,” I commented softly. 
    He
shrugged. “Not particularly.”
    I
glanced at him in surprise, then promptly changed the topic. “I hope you aren’t
missing work on my account today.”
    “My
work hours are flexible,” he responded as he sliced a couple pieces of bread.
He set the knife down, then dipped a piece of bread into the tapenade.
“Speaking of