Chapter 4: Bonds Forged in the Stables

I got along well with Sam Adams, even seeing him off personally when he left the residence.

He was reluctant to part, and we promised to meet again.

I gladly agreed.

Then I asked my aide, "Has that Sterling kid been sent to the stables?"

He confirmed it, and I smiled. "Don’t give him dinner. Prepare a late-night snack; I’ll deliver it myself tonight."

Late at night, I carried a food box to find Lucas Sterling.

Lucas was chewing on a piece of straw in boredom. When he saw me, he stood up quickly, but his eyes were wary.

I pretended not to notice and smiled. "Lucas, you doing okay?"

He turned away stubbornly. "You know the answer."

Just then, his stomach growled.

I handed him the food box. "Can you do me a solid?"

He turned, mocking, "Even you need favors?"

I sighed. "That fledgling was put back in the nest, but maybe it smells like people now—it’s crying from hunger. The adult bird circled a few times but won’t come back."

I said, "Lucas, any ideas?"

He fell silent. I shook my head. "Its voice is already weak. I’m afraid it won’t make it through the night."

I pushed the food box toward him. "Never mind, Lucas, eat. I’ll go ask the others in the stables."

My aide whispered, "Jamie, please eat before you go. You’ve been busy all night and haven’t had a bite."

Lucas asked, "Why aren’t you eating?"

I smiled. "I wanted to invite you, but it’s too late now. I’ll go hungry with you."

Seeing his hesitation, I smiled again. "Are you inviting me to eat together?"

He awkwardly handed me the food. "You eat, then."

I sat cross-legged beside him on the haystack, eating from the same container with my fork.

He was stunned, but soon joined in without further fuss.

There wasn’t much food, but sharing it made it taste special. Lucas kept glancing at me, but I just ate, perfectly at ease.

After eating, he wiped his mouth. "I’ll go check on the bird for you."

I smiled. "No rush. Have you seen my black Mustang?"

Lucas’s eyes lit up. "That car is yours?"

I nodded. "Speaking of cars, your mom, Mrs. Sterling, is famous for judging them."

He laughed. "Yeah, my mom loves cars. I only know a little, but I can tell your Mustang’s going to be a classic."

After some idle chat, Lucas let down his guard and took me as a real friend.

In the morning mist, I drove with him through Maple Heights Park, his laughter waking the sleeping birds.

When we parted, I handed him the Mustang’s keys. "Take care of it for me. A guy should have ambitions beyond his hometown—take her out west—see if you can hit Route 66 before you come back."

Lucas was stunned as I turned and left, still staring at me in a daze.

I watched him standing there in the damp grass, clutching the keys with both hands like they were a medal of honor. In that moment, I knew our friendship had sealed itself in the kind of memory you only get once or twice in a lifetime.