Francis said, handing Faith the phone. “She gets more phone calls than we do,” he joked to Michael. “She’s like the Queen Mum,” Michael quipped. “Younger version, of course,” he amended after catching Faith’s glare. It was true. Faith had been in the canyon barely three months and was already the most popular in town. She schmoozed with everybody—the pharmacist, sheriff, gas station attendants, waiters, and grocery clerks. And everybody gossiped with the woman who would incline her head in their direction and listen to their trials and tribulations. The person who had asked to speak to Faith was Betty Clark, a checker at IGA Foods. Faith had corralled Michael and Francis earlier to talk about Tyson, who had asked if he could stay on at Best Friends. They had come to the relative quiet of the bunkhouse to discuss getting the Texan a bigger trailer and moving him to Dogtown. Michael and Francis didn’t particularly listen, but in the cramped confines of the kitchen they couldn’t help but hear both sides of the women’s conversation.
