* * *
We were guarding the jewel. I was hungry, and so were they, and I said I’d go get something and bring it back. The deputy said we could take turns going to eat and checking on the prisoner, and I went first, and I had the key in my pocket.
Like in a lot of small western towns with more buildings and pride than people, the hotel wasn’t much on service, and so I went to the chow house across the street for some steak and bread. And I bought a pie to take back. It was a crisp, sweet summer pie, fresh and warm, and filled with blueberry and black cherries.
I was walking back with it, whistling, when a lady appeared in my way. An older lady, but she looked good and if she’d tried she might have distracted me with her charms, but she didn’t try. She pulled back the shawl that covered her gray hair—hair that was maybe too gray for the face, but I hadn’t noticed—and smiled a supplicating but well-dimpled smile. She had a mole next to the dimple to be sure a fellow would notice it.
“Sir, I need some help,” she said. “Would you mind? It’ll only take a minute.”
She pointed across the street to a storefront that was blank and stark in the twilight. The door was open and a younger woman stood in the doorway, with a broom in her hands and wearing the kind of apron that covered up her whole dress, sleeves and all. The younger woman had dimples too, and she didn’t need a mole to draw attention to them.
“We’re going to open a dressmaker’s shop,” said the older woman. “We’ve been working like the dickens to get this place cleaned up, but we’re just two little ladies.”
I went over to take a look at what they needed help with, and they led me inside. The place was nearly empty, with just a counter, chairs and a bench. The counter, which was tall and heavy, had been left half across the door that went into the back room. That was the problem. They needed somebody strong to move it, so I set down the pie and muscled the thing out of the way.
Then the older woman offered me some elderberry wine in a little cracked cup, and I turned it down because I had to stay up through the night. She seemed disappointed, and I felt ungentlemanly for not allowing her to thank me properly, so I jawed with her a little. That’s when the younger woman came up to me, blushing and blinking, and she put her hand on my arm and told me how strong and kind I was.
Was that when it happened? Was that the big brown eyes and my hand on her blond hair? No, I shook my head at her. I pulled my arm away, and backed off. I remember smiling at her and telling her she was a temptation, but....
Waiter, There's a Clue in My Soup! Five Short Mysteries Page 9