a slot across the street in front of the salon. “That’s my three-o’clock cut,” Lacy said. “But we’ll talk soon. I do love people with big ideas, especially ones that are going to help Mule Hollow grow. Catch you later.” She spun and jogged off to greet her customer.
Sheri started to follow her, but paused. “Hey, are you looking for a husband?”
“Not at the moment. Why?” Sugar wasn’t sure what to make of Sheri.
“If that’s so, then when you meet the posse, you might want to hide those sparks flying between you and Ross. That is, unless you’re prepared for a little help in the romance department.” She widened her eyes in an exaggerated look of warning.
“Hey, the guy is drop-dead gorgeous, and I’m not blind. But aside from the fact that I’m totally focused on my career, I’m not here to stay. Surely once the matchmakers know that, then sparks or no sparks, they’ll not get any ideas.”
Sheri sent her a wry glance. “None of that will matter, believe me. Ross Denton isn’t just a pretty face. Oh, no. He’s a true-blue, all-around great guy. He’s ready to settle down and believe me, if they see the way he’s gawking at you—well, I’ve got two words for you. Look. Out.” She turned, then strode down the stairs.
Sheri implied this could be trouble. Sugar watched her until she disappeared into the salon. Naaa. Good luck to any matchmakers who thought they could hook her up without her consent. If they saw her as a target, they were going to find they might as well be shooting blanks when it came to Cupid’s arrow.
Not that she wasn’t going to be looking…eventually. Down the road, around the bend a few times, over the hill and through the dale, whatever in the world that meant. But it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
An hour later, Sugar entered Sam’s Diner escorted by Haley and the infamous matchmaking posse. They were a bunch of really delightful ladies—sort of Miss Bea meets Lucy and the Golden Girls. She was enjoying her chat with them as she walked into the place when suddenly she looked around and the reality of her situation set in with blunt clarity. She was a city girl. She loved being a city girl, and took the things that entailed for granted. She was talking about coffee. Not just any coffee, but sweet, creamy mocha and cinnamon, caramel. She loved her Starbucks, and if she’d had any ideas about her favorite latte while in Mule Hollow—well, that misconception melted the instant she walked into Sam’s. She screeched to a halt, and the heavy wooden door almost hit her in the backside as it swung shut behind her. She was so shook up, she hardly noticed. Old wood tables, plank floors and weathered wood walls greeted her. No sir, she wasn’t getting a caramel-mocha latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon here, that was for certain. A craving for her favorite drink grabbed hold of her and she bit back a groan, realizing she’d be lucky if Sam offered skim milk with her coffee. For certain she’d have to kiss whipped cream goodbye. By the looks of this place he might even cook his coffee out back over a campfire!
Oh dear, it really felt as if she’d stepped back in time, and for a girl who loved the modern-day conveniences associated with the city, “back in time” didn’t sound so good.
“What do you think?” Haley asked, eyeing her curiously.
“Wow. It’s…it’s very rustic.”
Haley nodded. “It is wonderful, isn’t it? As long as I can remember, it has always been the same. Sam bought it from the previous owner and didn’t change anything, except to put in the jukebox.”
Esther Mae Wilcox shot a scowl at the jukebox as fiery as her red hair. “Much to our sorrow,” she harrumphed.
Norma Sue Jenkins, a robust woman with curly gray hair and a smile that took up her entire face, grinned at her friend. “You know you’d miss it if it died completely.”
Esther Mae glared at her. “I’d dance on its grave. If we’re going to have to listen to it, the least Sam could do is shake things up a bit. Or you, since you’re the one who always works on the thing. Change some songs. Give me some of those new cutie patooties to listen to. Like that sweet little Oakie, oh, what’s his name…You know, he sings about the beach and he married that darling little movie star Renée Zil-something-or-other.”
Sugar chuckled. “Renée Zellweger and Kenny Chesney.”
Esther Mae’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, that’s who I’m talking about.” She shook her head. “I exercise to his sweet voice in the mornings on my mini trampoline.”
Sugar got a visual, which wasn’t hard, since Esther Mae had on a cantaloupe-colored jogging suit with big red strawberries splashed everywhere.
When she and Norma Sue continued their animated discussion about the jukebox, Sugar realized this was an ongoing debate. They were a hoot. Life wasn’t going to be boring with them around.
Adela, seemingly oblivious to her friends’ argument, slipped into a nearby booth and patted the seat beside her. Sugar kept her eyes and ears on the floor show as she sat down.
Their movements brought Esther Mae up short, and she shook her red head. “Sorry, we tend to lock horns about that jukebox, but don’t pay us any mind.” She slid into the seat across from Sugar, and Norma Sue did the same. “We’re more interested in hearing all about you. Everything.”
Adela smiled. Sugar knew from the papers that she was Sam’s wife, and the one who’d originally come up with this unusual way to save her dying town. She was a doll, with electric-blue eyes made brighter by the pixie-cut, snow-white hair that perfectly framed her face. She was elegant and serene, and a complete contrast to her friends. Not that she was shy; Sugar didn’t get that impression at all. Just composed, and unruffled.
She patted Sugar’s arm with a delicate hand. “Don’t look so worried, dear, we’re not going to give you the third degree,” she said, a gentle smile creasing her face. “Are we, girls?”
Norma Sue and Esther Mae didn’t look to be in total agreement on that, but they nodded.
Haley had pulled up a chair at the end of the booth, but didn’t seem interested in adding to the conversation. She was clearly content just watching them. Her eyes twinkled and Sugar studied her with interest. The real-estate office where they’d worked before had been very stressful. With so many properties to be handled, and with so much money at stake, that was to be expected. Sugar knew it had been one of the factors that sent Haley running back to Mule Hollow. She’d told Sugar the people there were good, genuine folks who cared about each other like they were family. Then there were those newspaper articles by Molly. They, too, painted the town in a positive light.
Sugar hadn’t really believed them. Haley and Molly lived here and loved it, so Sugar had figured their information was probably a little biased. It had to be.
Still, as she let her gaze roam around the table and thought about the other women who’d welcomed her, she suddenly wasn’t so sure whether there was a bias or not.
Could Mule Hollow really be as nice as it seemed?
She was still pondering that when Sam came out of the back. A spry man with a brisk, bowlegged gait, he looked as if he might have been a jockey in his younger days. He held out his hand right away. “How do.”
Sugar slipped hers into his and almost flinched. What a strong grip! “How. Do. You. Do,” she managed to reply.
Grinning,
