Woodlands Read Online Free PDF Page A

saw it there the other day,” Seth said.
    “And I remember Franklin talking about you, too. You’re the one who went to Europe instead of going to college, aren’t you?”
    “I went to college,” Seth said defensively. “True, I took some time off and traveled through Europe, but I returned home to Boulder; that’s where I grew up. I went to the University of Colorado there. Took me five years, but I graduated.”
    Leah had heard so many stories about Franklin’s twenty-four grandchildren and great-nephews and -nieces that she wasn’t sure which of the stories were about Seth. “He may have told me that. I don’t remember.”
    “Did he tell you I’ve been in Costa Rica for the past four years?”
    Leah laughed aloud as she made the connection. “So you’re the one! Yes, he told me all about you. He calls you the hippie boy in the rain forest.”
    Seth glanced at Leah and grinned slowly. “Yep, that’s me. Not exactly at the top of Franklin’s list of favorite people. Youare, though, you know. You’re right at the top of his list.”
    Leah ignored the comment and asked, “So what are you doing in Glenbrooke?”
    Seth parked the van on Main Street in front of the
Glenbrooke Gazette
. He pulled off his sunglasses, and raising his eyebrows, he said to Leah with a sly grin, “I’m here to obtain the favor of Uncle Franklin so that when he dies he’ll leave all his riches to me.” With that he hopped out of the delivery van and hurried across Main Street with a large manila mailer in his hand.
    Leah sat still, her eyebrows furrowed.
Was he serious? He couldn’t be serious. Franklin doesn’t have any riches. He lives in that old house and eats spaghetti and canned green beans. Seth had to be joking
.
    Leah leaned back in the front seat of the delivery van and tried to remember what else Franklin had told her about this “hippie boy.” She knew Franklin had mentioned Seth over the years because he was the only one of the clan who had done much traveling. She remembered three postcards Franklin had kept on his coffee table for several years. One was of the Austrian Alps, one of the Seine River in Paris, and one was of Venice. That was Leah’s favorite. The postcard pictured a gondola docked by a red-and-white-striped pole. The gondolier, wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat with its blue ribbon hanging down the back, stood on the dock. He leaned casually against the pole and indicated with his hand that his gondola was available for the next rider.
    Seth had sent those postcards.
    Every time Leah had visited Franklin, she would study the cards, especially the one from Venice. And if Franklin wasn’t watching, Leah would whisper to the gondolier, “Wait for me. One day I really will come ride in your gondola.”
    She hadn’t yet made good on that promise. For years shehad dreamed of exotic travel adventures but could never pursue any such whims because of her obligation to her ailing parents.
    A wash of insecurities came over Leah. If Franklin considered Seth the hippie in the rain forest, then how had Franklin spoken of her to Seth? Did Franklin consider her the matronly nurse, destined to make house calls offering charity to all the old people of Glenbrooke until she herself was too old to leave her rocking chair?
    Just as she was beginning to feel overwhelmed with self-doubts, Seth returned with a grin on his face. “Kenton says hi,” he said.
    Leah looked out the van’s windshield. She couldn’t see into the front window of the newspaper office, but she could guess that Kenton Buchanan, the owner and editor of the paper was in there, watching her in the PDS van with Seth. Leah smiled and waved at the window, which, due to the sun’s angle, only reflected the image of the delivery van.
    “I suppose you figured out that Kenton and Kyle are brothers,” Leah said. “The Buchanan boys.”
    “So he just told me. News travels fast around this burg, doesn’t it?” Seth started the engine but kept his