An Indian caught the attention, especially a woman with different-colored eyes. “Like a heeler,” she said. The woman had paid cash to gas two vehicles. The clerk pulled the receipt. They’d been printed at eight twenty-eight, nearly thirty minutes ago. Sean went for the moon, asking if the woman mentioned where she was heading. The clerk shook her head; her dangling earrings were shaped like Idaho, with the hoops attached to the panhandle. “She’s pretty,” she said. “Very feminine. She said thank you and smiled. Most people don’t do that.” Sean waited while she ran his credit card for his fill-up, then had to do it again when Joseph walked up holding bags of chips and soft drinks. “We’re going to need munchies,” Joseph said. “You got any tunes? We could buy a CD. Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard. Charley Pride, he’s a Montanan. You ever hear him sing ‘The Snakes Crawl at Night’?” “I don’t have a deck.
