Everything had gone smoothly after a while. More than a year passed since Nieto's death, and it was safe for Juniper to frequent the Coach Inn. Peter had gotten busy with his own affairs. He had forgotten about the girl that had killed his partner. But Juniper had not forgotten about him. In the back of her mind, she had always worried if he could be looking for her. Then, the world came crashing down and she had assumed he would be dead. That was exactly what Peter had presumed about her. They had both been wrong.

Juniper could remedy that. Her husband was dead, her new dog was chow, but she still had a gun.

It took her two days to prepare. First, she buried Christopher's body. The task would have been out of the question had she not found a shovel in the bed of a pickup truck near their car. Dragging his body was most challenging. Juniper got ten feet with it before she needed to take a break. She was tempted to bury him by the side of the road. Resolve replaced her exhaustion, and she brought him well into the fields that ran alongside the roadway. In between two large trees, she found a suitable spot for burial. And she dug, and dug, and dug. Her palms weren't used to the work. They split open easily thanks to the heat and her own sweat. By the end of her task, the blue sky had faded to a light pink.

Time was short. It was almost dark, and Juniper didn't want to be out in the woods when that happened. Really, she was safer in the woods. The Mr. Hydes of the world stayed closest to the roadways where food was plentiful. And yet the road was where Juniper planned to spend the night.

She rolled the body into the grave. It landed hard, settling on its side. One leg was bent helter skelter. A eulogy, or saying goodbye, would have been appropriate, but the words weren't there. She stared down at the bent and dirtied body of the love of her life. Minutes ticked by. The sky flushed a shade of orange. She glanced at the shovel and decided to finish digging without saying anything.

"No, I have to say something," she told the field.

Yet, she said nothing else. Her mind was empty, but her heart was so full it hurt.

After a few heartbeats, Juniper found her words: "Christopher, I'm glad I met you. Thank you for loving me."

Juniper picked up the shovel. With every mound of dirt she replaced, a greater desolation overcame her. Heavy tears fell as she worked. It was hard to see because she kept wiping away tears, accidentally rubbing dirt into her eyes in the process. The luxury of mourning her husband couldn't last for very long, as the sky had hazed over from orange to purple. It was full dark no stars when she packed on the last bit of earth.

Light from the moon lit her trek to the car. All along the way, her hand remained on her gun. Juniper felt prepared in case of a surprise meeting in the woods. She couldn't know her surprise meeting was going to happen once she reached the road.