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CHAPTER ONE
“My life’s work is done,” said Harrison Hyde. He was driving his reliable ten-year-old Volvo westward across Texas, on his way to New Mexico. He’d started out in Florida.
He glanced at the oval photo charm that dangled from his mirror. “I don’t know how I can keep my promise, Mom. You said to keep the family together, and I couldn’t even do it for a year. Dad wants to move to that retirement community in Florida where a bunch of your old friends are. It’s a nice place. His asthma’s getting worse all the time. He shouldn’t be alone, but he says they have caregivers there.”
He sighed and looked at the horizon. There was a church steeple way off in the distance, and as he drew nearer, he spotted the other rooftops of a dusty West Texas town.
“Lily passed the NCLEX, got her pin and put in applications at every hospital within driving distance of Ithaca, based on the assumption I’d still be at Cornell. But what do I do about Dad, if he wants to move?”
He was speaking toward the passenger seat, as if his mother were riding with him. He pictured the window rolled down andher long platinum hair blowing in the breeze, and he tried to imagine what she would say.
The words that floated into his mind in his mother’s voice were, “What doyouwant, Harrison?”
Whatdidhe want? Well, that was the question, wasn’t it? And that was why he was driving to the demo site in New Mexico instead of flying out like the rest of the team. To give himself time to think about what he wanted, and what came next. He’d been devoted to his research for seven years. And now it was done. The result was sitting in a padded black box that looked like it ought to hold a large piece of jewelry, in the passenger seat, with his mother’s ghost.
She’d been gone a year. She hadn’t lived to see his life’s work accomplished. And while Harrison believed in science, not ghosts, he found comfort in talking to her and imagining her replies. They’d been so close, he could pull up an accurate approximation to what she might say in any given situation, based on all the years they’d spent together. He often worked through problems that way.
Returning his attention to the road, he saw a brown and yellow trailhead sign beside a green metal highway sign that said, “Quinn: 1 mile.”
“What I want,” he said with a burst of clarity, “is to take a break from driving and stretch my legs. I haven’t moved in too many hours.”
The pull-off was small and surrounded in scrubby brush. A little stream ran through it, which surprised him, as close as he was to the desert.
He got out, closed the door, and stretched his arms way up over his head, arching his back until it cracked. He was wearing light khakis, a blue, short-sleeved, button-down shirt, and a pair of canvas slip-ons. Everything lightweight and easy. Perfect for a short walk.
It felt good to move. The air was warm and dry as he hiked out along the trail. It would be hot later in the day, it being June in southwest Texas. But it was only ten a.m., and not yet unbearable.
It was weird, not having work to think about or problems to solve. He’d solved them all. Well, he and his team: Carrie, Solomon, and Robert.
The dry air carried the scent of some flower that must be in blossom nearby. He started up the trail, over red-brown dirt and fine red pebbles that hadn’t quite made it to dirt yet. He felt them shifting under the soles of his flimsy canvas shoes. Not exactly hiking shoes. He’d brought hiking shoes, but he hadn’t thought to change, and he was already too far from the car to warrant going back. Besides, the terrain didn’t look too rough. It wound slightly uphill amid squatty trees, and stands of aromatic brush that gave off a scent like pepper and spice. There were boulders every kid ever born would want to climb. He’d climbed boulders just like them as a kid on family camping trips to places like this.
Around the next curve in the trail, he spotted a lean gray jackrabbit. The rabbit froze, motionless except for his twitching nose.
“Yeah, that’s right, buddy. You’re invisible.” To cut the nervous little guy a break, he turned away, looking elsewhere. As soon as he did, the rabbit scampered off, throwing up dirt in his wake. Harrison laughed.
It was nice, not thinking. Just being. He focused on the moment, something he hadn’t done since work on the solar tile had begun. There was nothing left to do but the big demonstration in New Mexico for an audience of potential investors; in private, he’d been referring to the demo as the “Silver City Shark Tank.” That was what it felt like.
He had to be there by noon on Wednesday. By the time it was over, he might be a wealthy man. It was only Saturday. He was going to take his sweet time. He’d never thought about what he would do after the solar tile. But he intended to figure it out on this road trip. He had hours of quiet time, driving across Texas with nothing to do but think.
The steady thud of his footsteps in the dry red substrate were like a drumbeat, and they brought a memory. Horse hooves on similar ground. His mom had found a trail-riding outfit not far from their Ithaca home when he was very young and Lily was just a toddler. From that year on, every autumn when the foliage peaked, they’d take a family trail ride amid the vivid colors of New York State. The clip-clop of hooves would eventually soften, cushioned by a lemon-yellow, pumpkin-orange, and scarlet-red carpet of fallen leaves.
He topped a low rise and stopped walking to take in the view. Off in the distance, the white steeple was closer than he’d seen it from the road. He turned to resume his walk just in time to see a speeding, red-headed missile in tattered white satin right before she hit him.
His breath gusted, and he went over backwards, feet up. His back hit the ground hard, his keys and water bottle flying in opposite directions. The woman who’d crashed into him was down, too. He could see white lace portions of her in his peripheral, but his view was mostly of the sky. It took him a second to get a breath, and that second was filled with the woman not-quite-cussing a blue streak
“Golddern, mother lovin’tourists!”
He sat up. She got upright, and he took note of her torn wedding dress, the twigs in her wild red hair, and the anger in her doe-brown eyes. She looked right back at him so intently it made him wonder what he looked like through her eyes. Then she looked away from him, snatched up the duffel bag she’ddropped when they’d collided. She continued looking around the ground, so he did, too. All he saw were her cute bare toes, peeking out from the shredded hem of the gown.
She saw something else, though, because she crouch-lunged, snatched his dropped car keys, then raced back down the trail in the direction of his car.
He blinked as reality hit him. The bedraggled bride was about to steal his car!
“Hey!” He sprinted after her. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing with my keys?”
“Gettin’ away from my family for a few hours,” she shouted. “Keep up, or I’ll leave without you.” Her bare feet pounded over the trail, making him wince in pain on her behalf, but she didn’t even seem to notice. The trail spilled into the parking spot, and the woman threw her duffel into the back of his car and dove behind the wheel.
“No,” he shouted. “Just wait a minute now, come on!” He ran up to the Volvo and grabbed the driver’s door before she could close it.
