Small-town Girl

Twenty signs on Campbell Road screamed the wordsLion Pridein bold, black letters. A large black-and-gold card-board lion, its tail bobbing in the bitter February wind, crouched precariously above the intersection. Three teen-agers bundled in black-and-gold hooded sweatshirts darted down the sidewalk. Golden balloons bounced against a parking meter. Basketball fever had claimed everyone and anyone in Lane's End, Ohio. Everyone except for Gen Slate. She was trying to figure out how to navigate her Subaru Outback through the heavy traffic. Drumming her fingers on her steering wheel, Gen wondered if she was ever going to get her errands done or ever get accustomed to life in her new hometown. The past month had been interesting, to say the least. After resigning from her position at the Cincinnati Police Department, she'd signed on with Lane's End PD, rented an apartment and tried to get used to living and working in a small town. Again. It was a love/hate thing. Seeing people she knew at the grocery store brought back memories of growing up in Beckley, West Virginia. There, everyone had had some-thing to say about her tomboyish nature, and how she'd never measure up to her big sister, Margaret. It had been a true testament to both their characters that they'd gotten along so well. Gen thought of her mother, who'd never understood why she'd rather run track than dance in the pep squad. Why she preferred to go hunting the day after Thanksgiv-ing instead of into Charleston for shopping. Lane's End reminded Gen that lately she'd become fiercely independent, which was a real kind way of saying she was too standoffish. Finally the light turned green. After turning down Cheyenne Boulevard, Gen counted another fifteen Lion Pride signs and spied two cars so thoroughly covered in white-shoe-polish peppiness it was a wonder the drivers could see at all. As she edged her car along, she spotted a crowd of middle-aged men talking with a tall boy in a letter jacket. Team supporters slowed down their cars, honked and yelled out good wishes as they passed. Gen wished the traffic would thin out. She really needed to get some dog food as soon as possible. If she didn't get an industrial-strength bag of Mighty Munchies home soon, Sadie was gonna go nuts. After an eternity, Gen ran into Two By Two Pet Store and purchased Sadie's reason for living. She'd just hoisted the dog food out of her shopping cart to put it in her car when she heard a voice. "Hey! You need a hand?" Gen nearly dropped the fifty-pound bag on her foot. "Excuse me?" she asked, squinting against the bright sun as it descended in the west. "Can I give you a hand?" the very masculine voice repeated. The man then stepped out of the glare and loped forward,lopedbeing the operative word. His movements were so smooth and even Gen was sure the guy was a bi-cyclist or runner. "That's a pretty hefty bag for a woman your size." The loper--or should she sayinterloper--had a lot of nerve. "I can get it." She'd never been one to lean on a man--or anyone, for that matter. It was far easier simply to depend on herself. That way she wouldn't be disap-pointed when things didn't go as planned. But, as if he didn't hear her, the guy grabbed the sack out of her hands and tossed it into the back of her car. The action was impressive considering the guy didn't look all that brawny. "You should have asked Ted to give you a hand. I'm sur-prised he didn't offer." The store ownerhadoffered, not that it was anyone's business. The stranger's uncalled-for concern made her feel off-kilter and more than a little unnerved. Boys back home knew better than to open Genevieve's car door. The officers in Cincinnati had learned early on never to assume Gen couldn't do anything. The men she worked with in Lane's End were beginning to take the hint, too. But this guyGalloway, Shelley is the author of 'Small-town Girl ', published 2007 under ISBN 9780373751600 and ISBN 0373751605.