Chapter 28: The Founders Ride

Annie's POV

On Saturday morning there were thirty-one bikes in the lot of Tarrant Cycles, and a SOLD sign wired to the fence.

The chrome was bright in the cold sun, and the engines made a low steady roar.

Maggie was in the oldest wife's arms, in a snowsuit with ears.

"We'll drive up behind you and be at the lake before you are," the oldest wife said. "Don't worry about a thing but the road."

I kissed Maggie's forehead.

Then I swung my leg over my father's Triumph.

I had practiced for twelve days, and I had fallen twice more.

My left forearm was one long yellow bruise, and I did not care.

Boone stood at the head of the line beside his Harley, in a plain black jacket with no vest.

He saw me and tipped two fingers at me, and I knew he had counted on this part.

He thought I'd cry or stall.

I pressed the starter, and the engine caught on the first try.

It was a deep, even sound, and under it I could almost hear my father's voice.

Rafe pulled up on my left on the black Harley.

He didn't say anything.

He put his gloved fist out and I bumped it.

"I'm behind you the whole way," he said. "Not in front. Not beside. Behind."

"Good."

The vice president took the second spot, on my right.

The big man in the cut-off vest took the rear.

Boone raised an arm, and the line rolled out of the lot onto Route 9.

I let the clutch out slowly.

The Triumph moved.

I went through town at thirty with my eyes up and my hands loose, past the diner and the feed store and the bridge over the river.

The people on the sidewalk turned to watch thirty-one motorcycles go by.

An old man outside the hardware store took off his cap.

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