Chapter Four: December 21, 2007 Sage, Wyoming

"Hello Mrs. McIntyre," John Krentz, the local convieniance store owner said to the old woman who'd just opened the door. She shuffled into the warm store her parka drowning her slender and frail body. It looked almost too big and too heavy for her to hold up. The snow was falling heavily outside and the temperature was well below freezing. Here in Sage, Wyoming the winter was rough.

Irene McIntyre had most likely been beautiful in her day. She had curly hair that was always wild about her facem it was still thick though it had turned a beautiful sliver a long time ago. Her nose was long and slender, fashionably so, her cheekbones high, her lips were a full ruby red. The only real signs of aging on her face were the wrinkles around her eyes and lmouth where deep laugh lines showed. Her shoulders were always slightly hunched as though she was carrying a large backpack and her walk was slow and careful.

"Good morning, John." Irene said to the store owner pleasantly. "How's your wife?" She asked sincerely. Every time Irene came into the store she asked the same questions. John figured it was just her age getting to her a bit.

"She's great. Excited actaully. Connor is coming home in a two days and she's practically been dancing on air." Connor was the oldest of the Krentz children. He was away at college studying to be an architecht. He was a brilliant artist and had done very well in school. Needless to say, his parents were proud of him. Because he was such a good student, however, he didn't get the opportunity to come home much. Christmas was a perfect time for a family reunion. It couldn't have happened without a little help from a person who wished to remain annonymous.

One day about a week ago, the Krentz's had a letter delivered to them. There was no return address, only a postage stamp from Los Angeles. Inside was a letter and enough money for a roundtrip plane ticket. Some kind soul had paved the way so that their oldest son could come home for Christmas. There was much cause for joy in the Krentz house this holiday season.

"Good for Carol, and yourself of course." Irene smiled knowingly. "And how are Beth, Sue, and Brendon?" She asked, once again continuing the familiar line of questioning.

"Good. Beth had finally gotten over the drama of breaking up with Mike Cannafax. Sue's into her studies as much as ever, she says that she wants to get a scholarship just like Conner. And Brendon, well, he's anxious to be done with junior high, Can't wait to be done with what he calls, 'kiddie school'. It's hard to believe that next year I'll have three kids in high school and Connor will be graduating from college. I'm getting old," John said wearily.

Irene laughed loudly, "Yes, you are. I'm going to let you in on a little secret. It keeps me young and I'm almost seventy. You aren't old until you say you're old. If you keep believing that you're as spry as you were when you were twenty years younger, a whole new door opens. Don't waste youre time, enjoy the moments." Irene spoke with the wisdom of the ages. John figured it wouldn't hurt to take her advice.

"Thanks, Mrs. McIntyre. Now what can I get for you?" John asked as he prepared to fetch her things.

"I need milk, eggs, and bread." She said calmly as she let her purse slide off her shoulder so she could reach it better. John collected the things she needed and placed them on the counter. Ireme counted out what she owed and payed him. Once her purchases were in the plastic bags, Irene hung them on her arms and prepared to leave.

"Mrs. McIntyre, would you like me to help you with those?" John asked as the old woman started to open the door. 

"Now John, remember our discussion from a few minutes ago? I feel so young right now that I could just run back to my house. I only live a couple of blocks away and I don't suffer from osteoperosis. I may be an old woman but I can still walk in the snow. Have a nice day!" Irene said cheerily and escaped into the storm.

***

Carol Krentz came out of the back of the store and took her husband's hand. "Was that Mrs. McIntyre?" She asked pushing her lightly graying black hair behind one ear.

John looked into his wife's beautiful blue eyes and smiled. "It was. She's still as stubborn as a goat. I have a feeling you'll be something like her when you're her age." He kissed Carol then, breaking off when the store's door opened. A man stepped in, he was about five foot ten inches tall, two hundred pounds, no neck and muscular arms. He looked menacing and the Krentz couple were startled to see this large stranger in their store. People like this didn't come to Sage very often. They usually stayed down in Utah or Colorado for the skiing. 

"Can I help you?" John asked, subtly placing himself between the stranger and his wife.

"Yeah," The man said in a surprisingly light voice, "I'm trying to find Devon Paxton." The man's eyebrows knit together as though confused at the situation.

"I'm sorry," John said quietly, "there's no ne in this town by the name of Devon Paxton. Are you sure he lives here?" He said getting a little braver since the man hadn't broken his neck...yet. Still he felt it safe to increase his volume a little bit. 

"Devon is a girl." The large man said. "She's tall, taller then me, about six foot, long curly red hair? Ever seen anyone that even looked like that?" The man seemed almost desperate. At the shake of John's head his shoulders drooped a little. "I went to school with her about twelve years ago. I heard she moved here to Wyoming." He sighed heavily, "I guess I was wrong."

"No one's moved here in the past twelve years other then Irene McIntyre and she's close to seventy. I don't think she's the one you're looking for. Are you sure you have the right town?" John asked, just to be sure that the stranger hadn't mistaken them for another nothing town.

"I'm positive this is the right town. I suppose my informant was wrong. Thank you." And then he was gone.

Both Krentz's let out a breath they didn't remember holding.

***

Irene McIntyre put away her groceries before she walked into the small living room to knit. She was working on a scarf and was enjoying the work. She managed to get a lot of it done before the doorbell rang, cutting off her solitary paridise.

Ever so carful, Irene checked the peep hole, she froze when she saw who it was at the door. Not good. It was time to move on, she couldn't stay here any more... 

Author's Note

Pay attention to the little things. Things that you would think are inconsequential are actually very important to the story.