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her side window and rested her hands on the cloth bag on her lap. Grandma would give her father the picture Lana had left behind. He would surely know it meant come, come see me now.
    Cletus had said very little since he’d taken her from Grandma’s. He’d held the truck door for her while she climbed in. She thanked him, and he nodded before he took his place in the driver’s seat and drove. When they reached the courthouse, and the justice of the peace asked him, Cletus had said, “I do.” Then he asked the justice of the peace how much and paid him. Nothing more had been said. He’d eyed her when she climbed back into his truck, like he was studying something he’d just bought. He looked satisfied, and she’d smiled. He nodded again; then they drove on.
    She ventured another glance his way. It would be nice to talk, hear more of his voice, learn what he thought, if he was happy now that she was his wife. She set one hand on the seat between them, she tapped a finger, but still Cletus stared straight ahead, tall in the seat, towering over her in height the same way he did in years. His legs were so long his knees bumped the dashboard, and the top of his head brushed the cab’s ceiling. His hair was stiff and light, maybe whitish, maybe blondish. Maybe he really was too old to care if girls were pretty. She pulled her hand back to her lap. Grandma had said he was…at least girls like her. Maybe Grandma was right.
    “Is it much farther?” she shouted above the truck’s roar.
    He looked at her then, his brows arching as if he’d forgotten she was there.
    “I asked if it was much farther.” She leaned his way, caught his pale blue eyes, and studied them. This was her husband, this was the man she would spend the rest of her life with. He wasn’t handsome; he was rather ordinary looking. Her darker hair and complexion stood in stark contrast to his almost wan color. He probably wouldn’t think she was pretty since she was so different from him, but that was okay because she didn’t think he was particularly good-looking.
    “Not much. Maybe another hour. I need to keep my eyes on the road.” He didn’t shout, but she heard him. He returned his attention to driving. She nodded and looked at the road too.
    No boy had ever said she was pretty. Jeanie claimed that’s how it started, that’s what a prince did when he met the girl he wanted for his princess. A couple of boys in school had said they liked her. Jim Dillon, who used to come over and help her with chores now and then, acted like he maybe thought she was nice-looking. Grandma said he wasn’t actually coming over because of Lana, he did what he did for pay, but with Lana watching he was too proud to take the canned goods or eggs she offered him. Sometimes Jeanie followed him over. Jeanie talked even more when Jim was around. He never really said much back to Jeanie. He just kept helping Lana with the chores, the two of them letting Jeanie talk.
    Lana studied the passing grass and fields. Cletus was putting a lot of miles between Jim’s kindness and her. Maybe she should have told Jim she was getting married. Grandma had said not to tell him, there wasn’t time. She wished Grandma had let her. Jim probably would have come by today.
    Cletus revved the engine, then let off the gas as he jammed the gearshift into another gear. The engine rumbled to a low hum as he turned into a driveway. He hit the gas again and accelerated over bumps and cuts in the lane. Lana bounced off the seat, the yellow sash on her dress flying up. Her head struck the ceiling, and her teeth bit hard when the truck hit the ground again. She grabbed for the dashboard as the truck lurched over the next rut, and the next. Cletus finally rounded an old house and yanked the truck to a stop. The engine cut to nothing, and the smell of hot fumes filled the cab.
    “We’re here?” Lana gazed at the two-story structure in front of her, thick gray boards laid one over the other in lines,