finding herself a husband. It’s like she’s obsessed with getting a husband and getting him yesterday.”
“She wouldn’t be the first woman looking for a husband—hold on just a minute. How old is she?”
“Bingo! I honestly don’t know. I thought she was really young, too, but I don’t think she’s as young as I first believed. She wouldn’t tell me earlier when I asked, claiming a lady doesn’t tell her age.”
He was instantly all law enforcement. A gleam lit his eyes and she could very nearly see his brain rolling. “I think I need to do some checking on Cassie. She could be in some kind of trouble.”
“Please do, and thank you. Only, I don’t want to scare her. I don’t think it would be a good idea to let her know you’re checking into her background. Is that possible? If she’s a runaway she might get scared and run again if she’s spooked.”
“I agree,” he answered. “It’s a good thing you’re going to be around for a while to keep an eye on her.”
Dottie couldn’t agree more. She’d have to talk to her brother Todd, let him know what was going on. Once he heard all the facts, he’d agree that looking out for Cassie was important. There wasn’t too much she could do at the moment anyway in California, at least nothing until they heard whether they were going to keep the lease…she said a quick prayer that God would step in and save No Place Like Home. It was inconceivable to think that a place that was doing such wonderful work would have so many sudden problems. She forced away the worry, certain everything would be okay. God was taking care of her, surely He would take care of the women’s shelter.
“Did you ever in your entire life see such a dreamy guy?” Cassie paused, filling her glass with water, and sighed.
Plumping her houseguest’s pillow, Dottie tossed it up onto the bed above the RV’s driving compartment, then picked up another one. Cassie had been beaming ever since Jake had driven up to help them. Dottie fully expected to see the girl float to her bunk at any moment.
A far cry from the hard-edged kid she’d picked up on the highway.
Dottie paused, mid-plump. “He’s a dreamboat. But, Cassie, he can’t be much more than twenty.” It was a weak argument but all she had to try and slow Cassie down.
“And what’s wrong with that?”
“Well, nothing. He just seemed…well, young.” Dottie felt older than her twenty-eight years looking into Cassie’s youthful face as she plopped into the table booth, and stared up at her, her chin in hand. Her bright gaze sent Dottie to check her cupboard. She really was uncomfortable giving advice, and she…well, she needed to see what supplies she had so she could start baking in the morning.
No, she needed to try and talk some sense into Cassie.
“How old are you, Dottie?”
“Hey, you’re the girl who wouldn’t tell me her age earlier this afternoon. Remember?”
“Well, that was before I knew you. Before I trusted you.”
Trust.
Dottie’s stomach soured thinking about how Brady was going to check on Cassie’s background. Trust. “I’m twenty-eight. How old are you?”
“I’m really nineteen. Really. I know, I know, I don’t look it. I hate people telling me I look younger. But if you look at me really close you can tell I’m not sixteen. Look, I have crow’s-feet.”
Dottie busted out laughing, turning toward her just in time to see Cassie pointing at the edges of her eyes. “Oh, brother!” True, she did look nineteen on second glance. Maybe. Once more she wondered about Cassie’s background.
“Okay, you look nineteen, sort of. Don’t you think that’s a bit young to be so gung-ho about finding a husband right away? You do know that you need to fall in love.”
“Hey, I want a husband and I’m gonna get one. I’ll fall in love, but it’s about…never mind. I’m too tired to think straight. What are you cooking tomorrow? Can I help?”
“Can you help?” Cassie had effectively changed the subject and Dottie let it slide. Tackling the subject of husband hunting with her was going to require alertness and at the moment she was worn out. “Aren’t you the one who got me into this fix?”
Cassie chuckled. “That’d be me.”
“Then, yes, you’re about to learn to make candy. Tomorrow. We’ll just make things like fudge and brownies though. Cooking in an RV is limiting. But we can make do. And the microwave can be utilized, too. Do you like to cook?”
Cassie’s smile faded. “I—I can cook some. Your average can of beans and corn.”
Something about the way she said that, despite her air of humor, made Dottie wonder if there was more to the story. There usually was.
“But—” she beamed “—I love fudge. It’ll be cool learning how to make it. I wonder if Jake likes fudge. He said his boss told him to spend the next three days doing whatever Miss Norma told him to do, so he’ll be around tomorrow.”
“Who’s that?”
“Norma Sue Jenkins. I can’t wait to meet her and Adela and Esther Mae. They’re the ladies who first put out the ad that brought Lacy Brown and Sheri Marsh to town. And then there’s Molly, of course, and Sam. And Clint, and Cort and J.P. and Bob—”
“Whoa Nellie! How many people does this Molly write about?”
“Everyone…I think. I don’t know though, ’cause she never wrote about Jake, and I’ll tell you this—she should have. Although Bob’s probably gonna be my man. Bob’s special—”
“Bob? Who’s Bob, and what do you mean ‘your man’?” Dottie felt queasy.
“Bob Jacobs, he’s been a headliner in Molly’s stories. He’s the main reason I came. He’s the one I’m gonna marry.”
Brady hopped from the cab of his tractor, his boots sending up a plume of dust from the barn floor as he landed. He needed a shower, a tall glass of iced tea and some unwinding time. Striding from the barn, he made his way across the expanse of Saint Augustine grass and flagstone separating the house and the barn. His mom and dad had outdone themselves when they’d built the huge two-story ranch house.
What a waste that he lived here alone.
He was still gnawing on that problem a short while later walking, freshly showered, from the silent house out onto the front porch. The sound of his bare footsteps echoed behind him, reminders that no single guy should have this much house all to himself.
Sinking to the top step, he relaxed against the porch post as he’d done a thousand times in his lifetime and took a sip of his tea. Besides being the sheriff, the only official emergency responder within twenty miles, he also ran his own cattle operation. It made for a very full plate. And that helped him not think so much about how the house was too big for him.
Or about how it would never hear the steps of children…
He inhaled sharply, feeling
