he’d known Donny Babcock. Small town folks with conservative values didn’t tolerate criminals.
Just last year the local chief of police had been indicted for murder and sent to prison.
“Nice enough fellar, I guess. Kind of jumpy.”
Jace thought the same thing but he’d been alert to any evidence of drugs in the house and hadn’t found any.
“Well, lookee here who’s coming in the door, looking like Mary Sunshine.” GI pointed one of Miriam’s fat buttered biscuits toward the bakery’s glass door.
Kitty Wainright sailed into the bakery, a soft floral skirt swirling around her legs. Jace’s chest clenched. The air in the room seemed to grow lighter, warmer.
Kitty’s pale hair fell long and loose this morning with soft bangs framing her small face. If she ever wore makeup, he couldn’t tell, but with wide blue eyes and skin like a pearl, she needed no enhancement.
“Mighty handsome woman,” GI muttered in Jace’s direction before booming, “Howdy, Miss Kitty.”
Kitty spun, a ready smile blooming. She raised a hand in greeting. “Good morning.”
GI Jack cut his eyes at Jace. “Mmm-hmm. Mighty handsome single woman.”
Jace shoved in a forkful of scrambled egg and pretended his pulse hadn’t kicked into third gear.
“Here’s a spot for you, Miss Kitty.”
After pocketing two fluffy biscuits and a square pack of jelly, GI Jack pushed back from the table.
“I don’t really have time to sit.” But she began winding her way through the chairs and tables in their direction.
“Might as well. I’m leaving, too.” Tooney took a final slurp of coffee and stood. “That’s Pastor Parker bringing in his car right now. Brake job.”
Popbottle Jones rose as well, dignity in the old professor’s movements. From beneath the table, he retrieved a large canvas bag, the collection sack for his recycling business. “Time and tide waits for no man.”
“Yep. Time and tide.” GI’s head bobbed. “The trash man, too.”
The pair of unlikely friends never missed a Dumpster if they could get there before the garbage truck.
Popbottle placed some neatly folded dollar bills beneath his plate and hoisted the canvas bag to his shoulder. The Dumpster divers looked like bums, but Popbottle Jones and GI Jack never failed to tip. “You gents have a blessed day.”
In seconds, three men had departed, leaving Jace and Sloan alone at the table. Jace looked at Sloan with chagrin. “What was that all about?”
Sloan grinned. “I think you know.”
At that moment Kitty arrived, bringing with her the scent of fresh air and sunshine. Jace’s belly knotted in a mix of pleasure and despair. If his friends were matchmaking, they were wasting their time.
Sloan pushed aside a pile of plates to make room for the newcomer. As Kitty settled with feminine grace, Sassy Carlson sailed by, snatched up the plates and swiped a cloth across the tabletop.
“Anything for you, Kitty?” the waitress asked.
“Two dozen doughnuts to go, please. Mixed. When you get a minute.”
“Don’t say that, you’ll be here all day.” Sassy’s jaunty grin matched her bobbing brown ponytail. “Want some coffee while you wait?”
“Oh, might as well. And one of those decadent sticky rolls that are so bad for me.”
“Got it.” The waitress sashayed away, dodging chairs, checking tables, and offering comments as she went.
“You’re out and about early this morning, Kitty.” Sloan casually stirred his coffee.
“The Land Run committee meeting.” Clutching a small, flat handbag, Kitty propped her arms on the tabletop. The tiny purse chain clinked against worn Formica. “I’m picking up the doughnuts.”
The Land Run Committee was made up of business people and interested citizens who put together all the details of the two-day historical celebration. Jace had never joined the official committee but he helped out where he could.
“Annie and I will be there,” Sloan said. “Have you talked to Margo this week?”
Local businesswoman Margo Starks chaired the Land Run Committee along with the mayor. Jace found the woman intimidating but she got the job done.
“Not since the last meeting. Why?”
“She told Annie the vendor list is filling up. The Old West Gunfighters and the trick rider group confirmed.”
“Oh, good. Both of those are highlights.”
“And…” Sloan paused for effect. “Both groups asked about staying at your motel again.”
Kitty clapped her hands. “You’re just full of good news this morning, Sloan Hawkins.”
“Which means I need to get to those repairs sooner rather than later,” Jace said. Kitty needed the extra income that came with the Land Run Celebration but that required all the motel units be in top shape. Which they were not.
Kitty’s blue gaze turned on him. “Will you have time?”
“Sure.” He’d make time. She was a hero’s widow.
His conscience tweaked just the slightest. Dave Wainright wasn’t the only reason he found time for the Widow Wainright.
“Will your friend be helping you? He told me about that place in Florida the two of you renovated.”
Jace hoped his face didn’t register the shock. He’d never been to Florida in his life and to his knowledge Donny knew nothing about building, particularly the special kind of restoration Jace did.
“I can’t speak for Donny, but the work will get done in time. Don’t worry.”
“Oh, I’m not worried. If you tell me you’ll do something, you always do.” She turned her smile on Sloan. “Redemption’s blessed to have someone like Jace.”
Sloan cast an amused glance at Jace. “Can’t argue that. His expert eye saved me a bundle on Aunt Lydia’s chimney. I was going to tear the thing down.”
“It’s not about the money,” Jace said.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s the history.” Sloan sipped at his coffee, then grinned from Jace to Kitty. “Get him talking about restoration and he’s a chatterbox.”
Jace grinned sheepishly. Sloan was right. He felt good about making old things new again, and he believed the most dilapidated building could be rehabilitated into something beautiful.
“Why tear down something that’s impossible to get back? All that history and character
