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  Turning, Regan quickly walked back toward her van. The encounter with Trent was leaving her unsettled, with no real reason why. Now, standing in front of Vera’s store, she was more uncertain than ever if she should stay in Howell, or take her chances in Addison’s dormitory.

  The astronomy field was populated mostly by men. For the most part, the few women Regan had worked with over the years had said their male colleagues were respectful. Still, she hardly thought it was fair of her to ask a group of men to live with a lone woman for two months. Regan considered her options, and sadly came up with very few.

  Deciding it was best for her and her colleagues, Regan grabbed her bag from the van, and headed toward Vera’s. Her clothes in one hand, a very expensive turkey sandwich in the other, she was determined to get through the next two months and on to the rest of her life.

  ***

  “You took Jose’s spot, right?” William McCale was Addison Observatory’s support astronomer. He was a short, stout man in his late fifties. His face was slightly pock-marked, and his thinning hair had a reddish hue to it. He was wearing a pair of blue jean shorts, and a black t-shirt that read old enough to remember when Pluto was a planet.

  “I did. Dumb luck, really.” Regan stood with her backpack slung over one shoulder, and her brown leather laptop bag over the other.

  “I hope everything works out with his wife.” William frowned as he walked toward a row of narrow desks.

  Regan nodded and followed the man. She hated that her good fortune had come at the cost of another’s. Jose Moya was a decent man who, even after finding out his thirty three year old wife had ovarian cancer, had still been considerate enough to reach out to Regan about taking the time he had booked at Addison. In return, the planets had literally aligned, and the skies she needed coincided with Jose’s block.

  Regan was fortunate the path that had brought her to the middle of West Texas had been more direct than most of her counterparts. Since she was thirteen, astronomy had captivated her. She remembered sitting in her doctor’s office with a terrible head cold, and reading an article in Scientific America by Carl Sagan.

  Her eyes had filled with tears as she read, our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light.

  Her fascination with the science surrounding the very reason for existence had only grown over the years. She had found physics and astronomy to be humbling in how they challenged both her character and her intellect.

  Regan’s heart had sunk when she had submitted a telescope time allocation request to the Addison selection committee six months ago, and had been told the earliest she would be slotted in was the summer of 2015.

  This had meant she wouldn’t be able to complete her dissertation until the fall, delaying her doctorate until the spring of 2016. As a result, she would have lost her opportunity to intern at the William Herschel telescope, located on the island of La Palma in the Canary Islands.

  “You can put your stuff in this desk.” William handed her a small silver key. “We’re a pretty honest bunch around here, but there are daily novices that come through, and I can’t speak for them; so it’s best to lock up.”

  Regan took the key, and slipped it into her front pocket before putting her bags down on the desk. “Noted.”

  “I looked at your submission form, viewing schedule, and your target catalogue; so the instrumentation is calibrated accordingly.” The man reached into his pocket and pulled a pack of Wrigley’s WinterFresh gum out and offered Regan a piece. “Dark matter?”

  Regan’s brow arched as she unwrapped the silver foil from the gum. “Cold dark matter composition.”

  William nodded. “RAMBO?”

  Regan couldn’t help but smile at the acronym for Robust Associations of Massive Baryonic Objects, and how her mind always associated it with the melodramatic 1982 Sylvester Stallone movie instead of going to physics where it belonged.

  “WIMP.” Regan folded the piece of gum in her mouth, a faint smile finding her lips at how physicists found their humor in the strangest places. The first time she had read about Weakly Interacting Massive Particles she had wondered if the universe just leant itself to comical acronyms.

  “You’ve logged time at Aker and Anderson?” William leaned on the half wall that divided the desks as he popped a piece of gum in his mouth.

  “Yes. Aker last summer and Anderson the summer before that. Both unsupervised.” Regan pulled her laptop out of its bag. Though the chit chat was friendly, she knew the man was also sizing her up.

  “Start-of-run training is in a half hour in conference room A3. A site map is in the check-in package I gave you.” William turned and began walking away, and then paused. “One more thing.”

  Regan had just powered her laptop on, and stopped to ensure her undivided attention was given to William. The support astronomer, no matter how judgmental or overbearing, could make or break an astronomer’s success at a telescope. “What’s that?”

  “I appreciate why you’re not staying on site. It’s too bad there aren’t any empty rooms, or other women during your rotation.” William glanced down at the concrete floor, nervously chewing his gum.

  Regan took a step toward the man. “What?”

  Shaking his head, he looked up, and smiled. “Just be safe. The drive to Howell can be long and lonely at three in the morning.” Without another word, the man turned and walked away.

  Regan shook her head, and chalked the man’s concern up to misplaced paternal tendencies. After all, he was old enough to be her father. She looked at her watch and realized it was nearly eight at night. Her first allocation of time was for two hours, and started at ten thirty.

  Placing several text books and note pads in the desk drawer, she sat down and double clicked on the Starry Night Pro Plus icon on her laptop. Leaning her elbow on the desk, she rested her chin in her hand, her mind wandering.

  The Andrews’ house was nothing if not academic. In spite of her parents’ commitment to ensuring Regan took her studies seriously, they always encouraged the girl to be well rounded. She had run track throughout high school, and participated in theatre groups while getting her undergraduate degree.

  Science does not know its debt to imagination. Michael and Jeanne Andrews had the Ralph Waldo Emerson quote engraved on a pewter plate, and framed as a high school graduation gift to their daughter.

  “At the risk of sounding like a crappy self-help book, you really can do anything, Regan. The world is entirely yours for the taking.” Jeanne and her daughter had been sitting on the sofa in their Austin home the night before Regan was leaving for college.

  “I’m nervous.” The eighteen year old had confided.

  Kissing the top of her daughter’s head, Jeanne grinned. “Your father and I will always be there for you.”

  Regan sat up abruptly, her mother’s words ringing in her ears as the silence of the observatory made her feel hollow inside. Her parents had not been able to always be there for her, and remembering their last gift to her brought tears to Regan’s eyes.

  “You’re giving it to me!” Regan had barely been able to contain her excitement as her father handed her the keys to his VW van.

  Wrapping his arms around his twenty one year old daughter, he hugged her tightly. “She’s my baby, so you take care of her and she’ll take care of you.”

  Regan laughed. “It’s so creepy that your van is a girl, Dad.”

  “It’s the closest your father has ever come to an affair.” Jeanne smiled as she looked at her husband Michael and her daughter.

  “Saying that doesn’t make it less creepy, Mom.” Regan walked toward her mother, and hugged her. “Thank you.”

  Rubbing small, reassuring circles along her daughters back, Jeanne held the girl tightly. “You’re welcome.”

  “And now you know why we brought two cars.” Michael refe
renced Regan’s confusion when they arrived for their quarterly visit to College Station. Jeanne had been in their 2006 Honda Accord, and Michael had been following in the 1971 VW.

  “Y’all are awesome.” Regan beamed.

  “Consider it your graduation present, and a very poor, albeit practical, representation of just how proud we are of you.” Michael put his arm around Regan’s shoulders.

  Regan had nearly been done with her bachelors of science in physics, and had been accepted to the Wiess School of Natural Sciences at Rice University for her master’s work in Astronomy. She was planning to come back to Texas A&M to complete her doctorate, since that was where both her parents had received their doctorates. Her mother had been in engineering, and her father in anthropology.

  Driving home from dropping the van off, Regan’s parents had been hit head on by a semi whose operator had fallen asleep after driving for thirteen straight hours. The two most important people in Regan’s life had vanished, leaving her resentful of their absence, and shattered by the brutality of their deaths.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” A man’s voice interrupted Regan’s remembrances.

  Before turning around to face the man, Regan wiped the errant tear from her cheek. She never wanted to be the astronomer that cried at the observatory.

  “Sorry, what?” Regan turned in her chair to face the man.

  “I said - never mind, it was stupid.” The man was in his early thirties, six feet tall, with sandy blond hair. He was dressed in a pair of oversized khaki cargo shorts, and a faded gray Baylor University t-shirt. “I’m Jason Wiggles.”

  Regan couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you putting me on?”

  The man frowned, and then grinned. “Oh, the suggestive last name.” He shrugged. “It’s sadly my actual name, but hey - great icebreaker.”

  Regan stood up, and extended her hand. “Regan Andrews.”

  “Regan? As in the Exorcist?” The man’s left eyebrow shot up.

  This wasn’t the first time Regan had heard the comparison. “If I say yes, where do we go from there?”

  Jason laughed. “Awesome.” Pulling a chair over from one of the adjacent desks, he sat down. “You’re here for two months, right?”

  Regan sat back down. “Yes. I’m staying in Howell.”

  The man cocked his head to the side. “Why not here?”

  Regan smirked. “A dorm full of men and little old me? Didn’t feel right.”

  A mischievous glint shot across the man’s blue eyes. “What a world we live in when a woman can’t -”

  Regan held her hand up. “Stop right there.”

  Jason chuckled. “I was just going to say it’s sad those lines have to be drawn.”

  Regan sighed. “Sad for the eight men. I assure you not for the one woman.”

  “Fair enough.” The man stood, and slid the chair back in its place. “I’m heading over to the orientation meeting. Want to walk together?”

  Regan was never one to shy away from making a friend, even if Jason may have a slightly twisted slant to him. She had learned over the years that normal was a mathematical term that rarely, if ever, applied to human behavior.

  ***

  It hadn’t been one of Regan’s better runs. She had arrived back at her room after two in the morning from her work at the observatory, and keeping her running schedule, while managing the heat, meant she was up at seven in the morning.

  To make matters worse, she had opted not to drive to one of the many state parks that peppered this part of West Texas and trail run. Instead she had done a four mile loop out of Howell, and then back. Though flat, the route offered very little in the way of scenery, and a playlist could only do so much.

  Nearing the edge of town, Regan slowed to a brisk walk to begin her cool down. She had returned to running after her parents’ death, and still found comfort in the meditative practice.

  Pulling her ear buds out, Regan draped the thin black wire over the back of her neck as she walked up on the porch to the Last Stop. She needed some coffee, and if they had it, a bagel.

  “Good morning.” Regan smiled as she entered the small restaurant to find Lily behind the counter. A middle age, heavyset man Regan hadn’t seen before stood at the grill, with his back to the restaurant. The only diner was an elderly man sitting in one of three booths near the back of the restaurant, an El Paso Times in his hands.

  “Morning.” The dark haired woman managed a weak smile without making eye contact with Regan as she wiped down the front counter with a white towel. “Would you like a menu?”

  Hopping up on a stool, Regan shook her head. “No need. Can I wrangle a coffee to go?” She scanned the back counter for signs of bagels. “Do you have bagels?”

  Lily looked up at Regan apologetically. “I’m sorry, no. I can make you some toast.”

  Regan thought the worried expression on the woman’s face seemed disproportional, and she wanted to reassure her life would go on without bagels and cream cheese. “Toast would be even better. Thanks.”

  Pulling her iPhone from the black armband around her right bicep, Regan frowned. Her cell phone service had been spotty since she passed through Fort Stockton, and had not improved since arriving in Howell. She realized she was going to have to keep up with emails and Facebook while at the observatory; otherwise, she was practically off the grid in the small town.

  Hearing the hinges on the front door creak, Regan looked up from her phone to see Trent Sexton and two other men coming into the restaurant. The three were dressed in nearly identical outfits, all in faded jeans and long sleeve brown western shirts.

  “Lily, three coffees and some eggs.” The three men walked past Regan without a word, their boots making a dull thudding sound on the restaurant’s wood floor. “Henry, how the hell are you?” Trent and his companions sat down in the booth with the elderly man, and the four began a conversation Regan couldn’t hear.

  “Here’s your coffee and toast.” Lily slid a paper cup across the counter to Regan, accompanied by a small pastry box. “I put butter and some jams in there.” She looked intently at the counter. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I gave you an assortment.”

  Regan was touched the woman had taken the initiative on her behalf. She unzipped the small runner’s wallet she had velcroed to her left wrist, pulling a ten dollar bill free from behind her ID.

  “It’s on the house.” Lily looked up at Regan, her light blues eyes sparkling as she smiled at the woman. “I’m taking it out of the twenty you gave me the other day.”

  Regan shook her head. “Don’t be silly. That was a tip for not forcing me to eat a protein bar and bottled water for dinner.” She laid the ten dollar bill on the counter, and grabbed the coffee and toast. “See you later.” Without thinking, she winked at the woman, who immediately flushed a bright shade of red and turned her attention to the back counter.

  Regan’s hand was on the door, when she thought better of it. Turning around, she walked back to the counter.

  “Did you need something else?” Lily asked.

  “Actually, I was hoping you could recommend someplace to run around here.” Regan glanced down at her navy blue running shorts and gray V-neck t-shirt. “I try to do at least six miles a day, but this morning’s run was -” Regan hesitated, she didn’t want to insult the woman.

  “Boring?” Lily smiled.

  Regan rubbed the back of her neck. “I wasn’t going to say it.”

  Lily folded the white towel, and laid it to her right on the counter. “I won’t be offended. Why would a boring town offer an enthralling run?”

  Regan smiled at the woman, amazed at how gorgeous she was. “Right - I mean exactly.”

  The two women looked at each other for several seconds, Regan’s heart pounding in her ears as she hoped her face wasn’t as red as it felt.

  “I don’t run, but I like to hike.” Lily reached in the back pocket of her jeans, pulled her order pad out, and removed the pen from behind her left ear. “I’ll wr
ite some nearby trails down for you.” Shrugging, she wrote quickly on the pad. “I don’t know if hiking trails make for good running trails, but it’s better scenery than the highway.” She tore the piece of paper free of the pad, and handed it to Regan with a broad smile. Then she nervously glanced at her brother, and her expression changed.

  Looking over her shoulder, Regan could see Trent and the other men were still talking, paying them no attention. Taking the paper, Regan smiled back at the woman. The sensation in her chest reminded her of how a high school crush felt, euphoric and heady. “Thanks.”

  Stepping away, Regan’s progress came to an abrupt halt as she backed into the door. Awkwardly, she managed to open the door, and exit the restaurant. Standing on the sidewalk, Regan didn’t know if the late morning heat or her encounter with Lily was causing her rise in temperature.

  Walking toward her apartment, Regan unfolded the piece of paper Lily had given her. Stopping, she turned back and looked toward the restaurant, a huge grin on her face. Not only had Lily written down three nearby trails, but she had conveniently included her own hiking schedule.

  Nearly skipping back to her room, Regan was resigned to coincidently run into the beautiful woman.

  ***

  Following the ranch to market road south out of Howell, Regan looked at her watch. It was nearly eight in the morning. She had overslept, after not getting home from the observatory the night before until two in the morning. Now, she felt certain she would miss Lily at the trail head near Cathedral Peak.

  The peak was part of the Chinati Mountains and sat on the outskirts of the Chinati Mountain State Park. The mountain itself was a little over forty five hundred feet in elevation, and based on Regan’s research while at the observatory, offered a myriad of trails around its base.

  Pulling off the paved road, Regan parked in a small dirt lot occupied by two trucks. She got out of the van and scanned the area for Lily. Not seeing the woman, her shoulders slumped and she silently berated herself for being tardy.