No Place Like Home. Debra Clopton

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No Place Like Home - Debra  Clopton

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good sense. She had a bigger agenda than this, this infatuation.

      Oh, but he did have nice eyes.

      In her peripheral vision the two checker players leaned out from their chairs a bit, getting their ears a little closer to the action. Shaking herself again, she smiled at them, even though they hadn’t yet acknowledged her existence. Small towns always did have ears, and they had eyes, too, these two just hadn’t caught on to the fact that she was on to them.

      They were a good excuse not to look at Brady and she was thankful for the distraction.

      “I saw you exercising earlier. When I pulled into town, I glanced down that way and you were getting after some crunches. It looked like a scene from the movie G.I. Jane.”

      “It’s part of my rehab.” Mental and physical, but she didn’t say that.

      “At that rate you ought to be strong by tomorrow.”

      She wished. “That would be just fine with me. I never have been weak and I can’t stand it. It makes me crazy.”

      In more ways than one—

      Suddenly the swinging door to the back of the store flew open and a small wrinkled man burst through carrying a plate of bacon and eggs.

      “How-do,” he said as he plopped the plate down in front of the sheriff. “I heard what you said about being weak—you have a plate of this and you’ll be as strong as an ox in two weeks’ time. I promise.”

      Dottie laughed—but the little man wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t joking. Oops. The last thing she wanted was to hurt his feelings.

      “Sam takes his breakfast serious,” Sheriff Brady said, his eyes twinkling as he held back a chuckle of his own.

      Sam crossed his wiry arms and locked eyes with her. “Eggs and bacon make a body strong. I don’t care what these reports say nowadays. It’s all that refined sugar that’ll kill you. From the looks of ya, you ain’t been eatin’ much of anythang.”

      So much for thinking she was starting to get her figure back.

      “Sam, this is Dottie Hart. She’s the one I was telling you about. Dottie, this is Sam. And those two over there are Applegate Thornton and Stanley Orr.”

      She recognized all the names from Cassie. “Glad to meet all of you gentlemen.” The two checker players nodded and grunted something she couldn’t quite make out. Sam held out his hand and she slipped hers into his and nearly fell out of the seat when he pumped it up and down so hard she felt as if it would come out of its socket. “My goodness, those eggs and bacon must work.”

      He beamed and dropped her hand, just in the nick of time.

      “I’ll have you a plate in a jiffy. Mean whilst, how ’bout some coffee?”

      “Oh, yes, please.”

      Feeling a bit more relaxed, she watched him amble away.

      “Is your arm okay?” Sheriff Brady asked, leaning across the table so that only she could hear the question.

      “Yes, thanks. But boy, he’s rather vigorous.”

      “Sam has a tendency to be violent when he shakes hands. I don’t know why, but it’s always the same.”

      Dottie started to chuckle but bit it back as Sam reappeared with a cup of coffee. She thanked him and watched as he headed toward the kitchen with the promise that he’d be back in a few minutes.

      She was about to say something more, when one of the checker players, Applegate, she thought it was, slapped his hand on the table and grunted loudly.

      “Why’d you make that move?”

      “’Cause I wanted to. It was the move to make, you old goat.”

      “I didn’t see that checker there a minute ago.”

      “You sayin’ I cheated?”

      “I’m sayin’ that that checker wasn’t there a while ago.”

      “App, I ain’t never had to beat you by cheatin’, so why should I have to do it now?”

      Not certain if she should be alarmed, or if this went on all the time, Dottie glanced from the two men back over at Sheriff Brady. He seemed not even to notice what was going on. Instead, he was eating his eggs.

      Taking her cue from him, she took a sip of her coffee and tried to ignore the men. It was a little hard when the one stood up and stormed out the door. She met Brady’s eyes over the rim of her cup and he winked. “It happens all the time.”

      Okay. So maybe she wouldn’t have breakfast here again. Or maybe there was something she could do for the two men. She noticed that the one man, Stanley, continued to sit in his seat, contentedly eating sunflower seeds and spitting the husks into a bucket. Yuck! But at least it wasn’t that tobacco stuff.

      Sam brought her eggs and bacon and a refill of coffee for her and the sheriff. “Stanley, when you ever going to quit doing that to the man?”

      “What was that?”

      “You heard me. I saw you turn up your hearin’ aid when Miss Dottie walked in.”

      Stanley frowned. His entire face dipping in a cascade of wrinkles, he punctuated the frown by spitting out another husk. “App needs his blood pressure raised once a year. Keeps him kickin’.”

      “Yeah, well, when he comes in here one day and kicks your—well, I ain’t goin’ there ’cause we have a lady in our presence, but you know what I’m talkin’ about. I ain’t gonna feel sorry for you at-tal.”

      Dottie watched Sam retreat behind the swinging doors. She was beginning to worry about the two gentlemen; she certainly couldn’t eat. And then suddenly the door opened and Applegate strode back in, sat back down and grabbed a handful of seeds like nothing had happened.

      “You old fool,” he said. “I was halfway to my truck when I remembered what day it was.”

      “I get you every year.” Stanley chuckled and rubbed his hands together.

      Applegate frowned. Dottie couldn’t help but think the man looked like a prune. Poor man. “You just wait till next April Fools’ day. I’m gonna git you next year.”

      “Ain’t happened yet.”

      April Fools’! Dottie couldn’t believe she’d forgotten today was the first day of April. Sheriff Brady was smiling when she looked back at him.

      “Whew, I thought they were really breaking up a longtime friendship,” she said. This time she was the one leaning over the table.

      “It happens every year. Keeps them alive, anyway. You better eat those eggs before they get cold and Sam gets upset with you.”

      Dottie grimaced, said a quick silent prayer then lifted her fork and dug in. Mule Hollow was truly starting out as an interesting place to spend a few days.

      And

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