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The Farmer's Daughter: The Dragon Dream: Book One

Page 7

by Robin Janney


  “I know you won’t.” Michelle tried not to let her ruffled feathers show. “Why would I expect you to talk to a stranger about something you won’t even talk to your best friend about? Have you been praying about it?”

  “Every time, Michelle. When I lay down to go to sleep, and every time I wake up from one. God hasn’t taken them from me yet. I don’t think He ever will.”

  She had nothing left to offer except their shared faith. She wished she had more to offer her friend, it never felt like it was enough. “Don’t stop praying, Ange.”

  “I won’t.”

  “I don’t know what else to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything,” her friend replied. “Just tell me you love me even though I’m a pain. And then we’ll say goodnight and I’ll go to bed like I’ve been told.”

  “Of course I love you, silly! I miss you too.”

  “I miss you too, Shell. It’s just not the same without you here.”

  Michelle squeezed her husband’s hand as the two finished saying goodnight. She wiped at tears before they could fall. “I almost told her about our plans to visit next summer.”

  “I know.” Quenton pulled her into his arms.

  She drew comfort from his embrace. “I noticed she forgot to correct herself the last time she said his name.”

  He laughed. “I noticed that too. Maybe that thud we heard was the sound of Angela being run over by the Mack truck of love.”

  Michelle giggled and pulled back enough to look up into his face. “I hope so.”

  8

  C ori didn’t know what time it was. The bar would be closing soon, and she was taking a much-needed break from her business. Travis had packed his bags this morning, or yesterday morning depending on the exact time. He’d been on his way to pack the kids’ bags as well when she caved and promised him tonight would be her last night at the bar. It didn’t solve their problems, but it had been enough for him to stay. She jumped when someone sat next to her at the bar.

  “Easy, Cori. It’s just me,” said Harry Flynn with oil in his voice.

  She didn’t feel any better at the sight of him, but she was able to relax. “What the fuck, Harry? You look even worse than last time I saw you.”

  “Yeah, well, that happens when you sell your soul to the devil’s own son. Hey Tilly, can I have some whiskey?” Flynn sighed at the first shot. “Yeah, leave the bottle. Thanks.” He poured himself another shot as he spoke. “Mr. Crane has agreed to cut your debt by half and decrease your monthly payments to one-fifty a month. You still won’t be able to go back to the casino until you’re paid up, but it won’t be that long now.”

  Struggling to pick her jaw up from the bar, she pushed her beer away. “Are you serious? How the hell did you manage that?”

  “Don’t ask, you really don’t want to know. So, do we still have a deal?”

  “I said we would, didn’t I?” Cori’s lip twisted in a sneer. “Angela’s managed to twist Craig around her little finger. It’ll be a risk to my job, but I’ll figure something out.”

  “Well, Travis can have a job at the Foundry any time he wants. Orders from Crane.”

  “Wow. Okay, I’ll let him know.”

  “I guess you’ll be giving the bar scene up then?”

  “Yeah, that was the plan.” She didn’t tell him it was already her last night regardless. Travis wouldn’t be thrilled with the Foundry, but if he wanted things to work with them he’d go.

  “Can I talk you into one last customer?”

  Cori’s smile faded. Was she good for nothing else? “I suppose you’ll get Crane to drop the deal if I say no?”

  “No, the deal’s set in stone. Dying will be the only way to get out of it. My wife left me this morning. She hadn’t been giving out since I quit the Cupboard, and then she found out about this deal and she’s gone.” Flynn downed another shot. “Gone, gone, gone…just like a country song. For good this time. She’s even put a restraining order against me. Never could please her.”

  Why did this man have to be so pathetic? She shouldn’t feel sorry for him. Not sorry enough to do it for free though. “Alright. I’ll even give you a special going out of business rate.” She chugged her beer, the drunker she was the better. “Bring your whiskey and let’s go.”

  T he bright sun hurt Cori’s eyes the next afternoon as she manned her register, the one nearest to the door no less. Why did Craig ever have to put those huge windows in, anyway? She was still too jubilant to care how hung over she was. Travis didn’t know all the details, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. He’d kept her up even later than usual celebrating with her.

  Now what was she going to come up with to get rid of Angela? She didn’t know why the job was so important to Harry, especially now his wife had left him. Maybe she’d ask him when he came back.

  “That’s the fifth time in an hour.”

  Cori glanced over at Susan. The other woman was standing with her arms crossed, glaring out the front windows. “What’s wrong?”

  Susan nodded to the windows. Cori turned and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Angela was washing the windows and large glass doors. Their boss had come to a stop next to Angela, and the two were talking. They’d done this last weekend too.

  “This is the fifth time – in an hour – that Craig has come out of his office to talk to her,” explained Susan when Cori looked at her in confusion.

  “So?” Cori shrugged. She’d gotten over her schoolgirl crush on Craig a long time ago. Thank God Travis had never learned of it. Craig had shot her down just like he had others, politely but adamantly. So, he liked Angela, despite his earlier reticence. He could pursue the relation if he wanted after Angela was gone. How was she going to do this?

  It was a quiet moment in the afternoon. No customers, and no Larry yet. It was one of his football things; Cori thought it was a game making him late today. Yeah, Travis had said Sawyersville was playing Lipton today, hadn’t he?

  “So, I’m jealous,” Susan finally said. “And I’m pretty ticked. I’ve tried getting Craig’s attention for ages, and he keeps turning me down.”

  Cori looked out the windows. Craig was gone again, and Angela was back to scrubbing the window. She wondered how long the other woman would keep washing the clean spot. A small part of her thought it was cute. She shrugged. “It’s probably just something about the weekly inventory. Angela does them faster than Harry ever did. Maybe she’s been missing stuff.”

  Unlikely. Angela had always been thorough back in high school. Cori had always asked to borrow her notes after she’d been sick. Talk about detailed note-taking, in precise lettering.

  The other woman snorted in disbelief. “Angela doesn’t miss much. But maybe you’re right. We’ll…you’re kidding me…here he comes again.”

  A ngela suppressed a sigh when she saw Craig coming around the corner of the building. She wondered if it was a shorter route than walking through the store. Was it another question about the inventory? Yes, they really had that many post-it notes in stock…still. No, there weren’t any ballpoint pens in storage…the three packs on the shelf were the same ones which had been there a month ago. How was she going to finish these windows if he kept bothering her?

  “Yes, Cra…Mr. Moore.” She refused to smile at him. He didn’t need to think she was enjoying these interruptions.

  He came to a stop just on the other side of her wash buckets. “I was wondering if you could come in a couple hours early tomorrow. Say, eleven?” He was certain he could find something for her to do.

  “I’d love to,” she said with a frown. Torn between what she wanted and what she was expected to do. “Tomorrow’s Sunday. Mom will give me grief if I miss church.” So would the young pastor, but she wasn’t going to mention that part to her boss.

  “Oh.” Church? Craig was disappointed. She went to church? But it wasn’t enough for him to give up. What was he doing? “Maybe some other time then. It wasn’t anything too important.” He turned awa
y from her.

  “Don’t even start,” said Angela, anger beginning to build. She faced him, hands on hips regardless of the wet sponge in her hand.

  Craig turned back. Innocent enough, he asked, “Start what?”

  “The guilt trips. It won’t work. I get enough grief for working on Sundays, I don’t need to start missing church all together.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. It doesn’t seem to bother anyone else though.” He turned away again, feeling guilty. How low would he stoop just to see more of…He gasped as cold water poured over his head and body.

  “I am not other people!” Angela said with heat as he turned back to face her. She set the empty bucket back down. He had a lot of nerve! “I don’t care what others think!”

  Tyler’s Grove gasped as one and held its breath. What would Craig Moore do now? Surely Angela was going to be fired!

  Water dripping down his forehead, he saw no other option. “I see. Not a bad philosophy to live by.” Smoothly he grabbed the other bucket and dumped it over her head before she could move.

  Angela jumped and sputtered. Fair was fair, right? She shook her hands off and wiped soapy water from her face. “That’s cold!”

  The two stood there looking at each other. Water dripped from their hair; the water cold enough in the brisk September air to cause Angela to shiver. Smiles played at the corners of their mouths, laughter didn’t dare bubble up now.

  “I hope you don’t regret your philosophy,” said Craig, his smile escaping.

  “No.” Angela’s smile blossomed as well.

  “Good. You have half an hour to go home and dry off. Any longer and I’ll dock you.” He paused, trying not to notice how the t-shirt she’d worn today now revealed a pink undergarment. But he did, even the lacy details showing through. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Are we good?”

  It was a simple question, asking for forgiveness without saying the words.

  Angela’s eyes softened. “We are. I’m still not coming in early tomorrow.”

  Craig laughed. “I wouldn’t dream of it. So long as we’re good. Go on, go get changed.”

  “D

  id you see that?” stammered David, having appeared just in time to witness the water fight. The two women manning the cash registers turned to him.

  “Do ya think?” snapped Susan. “Where is she going? It’s break time and Angela was supposed to be my relief.”

  “I’ll cover for you.” The manager waved her away. Susan stormed off. “Do you need a break too, Cori?”

  She shook her head, still amazed at what they had witnessed. “I just came on. There was too much smiling for him to have fired her.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think that happened,” agreed David. He took Susan’s place behind the register.

  Fifteen minutes later, Susan came back and thanked David. “Sorry about earlier, David.”

  “No problem. I can’t believe how slow today is.”

  “I know. It’ll change once the game’s over. I just heard Emma say Sawyersville won.”

  “Yes!” David pumped his fist. “I bet she has more details. Holler if you need anything.” He hurried away.

  Susan snorted once he was gone. “That was easy.”

  Cori looked at her in shock. “You didn’t make it up, did you?” Travis’s little brother was on Sawyersville’s team.

  “No. I need to know, are you still interested in stirring up trouble for Angela?”

  A warning bell went off in Cori’s head, but she ignored it. She shrugged. “Yeah. Just haven’t figured out what yet.”

  “I have an idea. If you’re interested.”

  “I thought you were against it because she’s your cousin.” The outright hate and anger in the other woman’s eyes was enough for Cori to pause.

  “Obviously I’ve changed my mind. I want her fired.”

  Cori was suddenly glad she wasn’t related to Susan. No man was worth the jealousy the other woman was displaying. Despite her agreement with Harry, she tried to change Susan’s mind. “I thought you said she needed this job.”

  “She does. That’s how we’re going to get her. She’s so desperate to save her farm, she won’t think twice about it and hang herself.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Susan leaned across the counter and whispered her plan in her ear. Cori wished she hadn’t heard. “It’s too risky.”

  “It’ll work. Trust me.”

  “I guess. I don’t like it, but I’ll help you.”

  “That’s all I ask.”

  C raig sat on the back deck, working on a sketch. Angela was in the deli now, helping Emma with post-game orders. Too busy for him to step in without interfering with business. So, he sat here beneath the deli window listening to the sounds of laughter and good times inside.

  His sketch was simple. A small boy had fallen inside the store earlier in the day, and the mother had been hard put to stop his crying. Angela had just been arriving and had pulled a lollipop out of her purse for the crying child. The mother had been grateful. So far, Angela hadn’t made it into the sketch yet, just the crying boy and his mother.

  Taking a drink from his cooling coffee, he paused to look down the narrow street on this side of the store. The lazy afternoon had turned into a loud evening after the high school football team’s win. Even the skateboarding teens had paused to joke with the players passing through.

  One of the boys had started bringing a video camera to record their small stunts and even now Troy was running it as one of the football players tried a skateboarding stunt. It failed miserably, and they were all laughing. Flo and Lucy were meeting at their hedgerow, no doubt to hash over the events of the day.

  On the other side of Craig’s home, Dr. John Milton was just getting home for the day and his wife Evelyn greeted him in the yard with a kiss. Rain or shine, those two were the same. He often wondered how long the gray-haired couple had been married.

  Flo’s other neighbor, Nora Thompson worked in her garden despite being very pregnant. She was the quietest of his neighbors, though he expected that to change once the baby came.

  He returned to his sketch. Something was missing. Perhaps a female figure in the background? He didn’t think he was ready to start sketching Angela in detail, so he stuck to a general form. He lost himself in other details, defining the shelves and even the items on those shelves.

  The town quieted as dusk snuck up. Children were called in for the night. The deli settled down and even the skateboarders called it a night. A soft barking sound drew his attention, and he looked up.

  Who should be wandering up the street, but that mangy mutt?

  Craig smiled and whistled for the dog. She broke into a trot and ran up the steps to greet him. “Where have you been today?” he asked, rubbing her head affectionately.

  The happy dog leaned into his hand and barked happily.

  He heard Angela’s voice in the deli. “Hey Emma, I’ll be back in ten. Princess is here!”

  Emma’s laughter was clear. “You and that silly dog! Take your time, it’s settled down for now.”

  “What’s this?” Craig asked the dog. “Have you made another friend here?”

  Sure enough, the screen door to the deli opened and Angela bounced out with a plastic bowl in her hand. She stopped in her tracks at the sight of Craig.

  “Oh. Hi. I didn’t know you were out here.”

  Princess dashed over to Angela and yipped for the bowl, jumping and hopping on her back feet.

  “You’d better give her the food before she has a fit,” he told the young woman, smiling over at her. Why did she look so wary? Closing his sketchbook, he set it to the side. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Angela set the bowl down for the dog. She sat on the deck floor near the dog, scratching the floppy ear.

  “Is she your dog?”

  Craig looked over to her. “No. She’s a stray. She’s been showing up at my place in the mornings for a few weeks now. I didn’t know she was coming aro
und at night too.”

  “Oh. Well, that explains why she’s been getting fat. I was afraid she might be pregnant.” She chuckled, ruffling the dog’s ears. Craig was mildly surprised the dog allowed her to do so while she was eating. “Silly doggy! You’re only getting one can of food from now on if you keep double dipping!”

  Smiling he leaned back in his seat and propped his legs up on the deck railing. It was hard for him not to smile. This accidental encounter was filling him with contentment. “Good idea.”

  “You’re sure she’s a stray?”

  “I’ve asked around. No one knows where she came from. She’s probably getting scraps from everybody on the street.”

  “Probably.”

  “So, you’ve named her Princess?”

  “Yeah. I’m not sure why, I just had the thought when I first saw her how she was a princess down on her luck.”

  “I like it,” he said without hesitation. “My Grandma Annie had a little lap dog named Princess.”

  Angela smiled at him. “I’ve been wondering something, and since she’s kind of your stray too, maybe you could help me? She needs a bath, and some grooming. I have everything I’d need except somewhere to do it. There’s no room at my apartment, the Dodge’s don’t allow pets. And I don’t want to drive her out to the farm just for a bath.”

  He was speechless for a moment. Was she pulling one of his stunts, trying to find a way to spend time with him without saying so? “There’s a hose on the side of my house,” he said. “It’s hooked up for hot and cold.” If it wasn’t, he’d make sure it was before she used it. “Let me know when you want to use it, and I’ll show up where it is. You have a tub for her?”

  “I know where I can get one,” she answered, looking back down at the dog. Who, Craig just now noticed, was lying on her stomach and chewing on the bowl while Angela’s hand stroked her back. “I’ll do it tomorrow then. I should have enough time between church and work.”

  “Good enough.”

  A comfortable silence followed.

 

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