Harriet Beamer Takes the Bus by Joyce Magnin

Author:Joyce Magnin [Magnin, Joyce]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-310-33356-2
Publisher: Zondervan
Published: 2012-10-17T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

HARRIET DID NOT HAVE A CLUE WHERE TO GO. THE TOWN looked friendly enough, but her aching back, the imposing dark clouds, and the evening closing in made her mood go from good to decidedly grumpy as she stood there looking at the Smoky Mountains and wondering what in the world she had done even taking the trip.

But she didn’t wallow in self-pity for very long and decided her first order of business would be to find a place to stay. She walked on, pulling her suitcase, seeming to hit every pebble and crack in the walkways. She had passed several small motels on the bus ride from the casino, and if she had to, she could walk to any one of them. It might be nice to spend a night in some place more local than a fancy bed and breakfast. Still she found a bench, sat down with a thud, and sighed deeply. Her heart was set on stargazing, and now it looked like it might not happen.

Harriet opened the town map she snagged at the visitor’s center. Yep, the Meadowlark Motel should be right over there, about two blocks. No problem. She pulled up the handle of her suitcase and was about to set off when a man came out of the visitor’s center and approached her. He wore jeans and cowboy boots and sported a long ponytail.

“Excuse me,” he said, “but are you who I think you are?”

Harriet jumped about a mile when he came near. “That depends. Who do you think I am?”

The man smiled. “The woman from the news. The crime-fighter YouTube sensation. You pack a mean tote bag.”

Harriet sucked a deep breath and felt a little more at ease but still remained cautious. “Yes,” she said and started to turn away.

Just then a woman came out of the visitor’s center.

“Look, honey,” the man said, “it’s that woman who saved that poor woman’s purse. Remember, we saw it on the news?”

The woman, who appeared only a year or two younger than the man, cracked a wide, white-toothed smile. “Harriet Beamer? You’re Harriet Beamer?”

“I am.” More relief washed over her.

The woman held out her hand. “It is such an honor to meet you. You’re a real hero.”

“Hero? Me? I wish people would stop saying that. It’s embarrassing. I didn’t even know what I was doing until about the third swing.”

The man laughed. “Well, you are a hero. Not many women your age would take such a chance. And is the report correct — are you traveling to California?”

“I sure am. Going to live with my son and his wife. But I’m taking my time and whatever it takes — some buses, trains, taxis, a casino bus, and oh, a helicopter.”

The man laughed. “That’s a riot. Have you had dinner yet? Pamela and I would love for you to join us. By the way, my name is Hank.”

“We sure would,” Pamela said. “It’d be an honor.”

“Well, I was just going to check into a motel, but I suppose I should eat dinner.

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