A Peachy Plan

by Wendy Meadows

  Copyright © 2018 by Wendy Meadows

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Printed in the United States of America

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Thanks for reading

  Be the First to Know

  About the Author

  Also by Wendy Meadows

  Chapter One

  Momma Peach loved the winter season even though her home in Georgia did not receive much snow. Still, winter time always made her feel very still and calm inside. She liked mornings full of icy rain and cold temperatures that mandated cups of hot peach cider or hot cocoa laced with peppermint. She liked the way the chimney smoke mingled in with the frigid air, creating a lovely and beautiful friendship that only the months of winter could understand. She liked the way a warm blanket felt over her body while lying in bed cuddled up with her Bible while winter winds howled outside of her window.

  Momma Peach loved the many, many, beautiful gifts winter brought—but the one thing she did not like was being cold. Momma Peach did not like her nose and toes being cold, not one bit. Enjoying the cold from inside her cozy house was one thing—being frozen stiff was another. For this reason, although the winter landscape around her looked pretty as a picture, Momma Peach frowned, not one bit happy to find herself ankle-deep in snow beside a deserted road in Vermont.

  “My nose is going to freeze right off,” she complained through chattering teeth. “Oh, give me strength, I am surely going to turn into an iceberg.”

  Michelle shoved her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket and looked out at a wide field blanketed in thick white snow. “The tow truck should be here soon, Momma Peach,” she promised and then added in an apologetic voice, as an icy wind ripped at her black ponytail, “The roads are really icy. I didn't mean to skid off the road into this ditch.”

  “Oh, don't be upset,” Momma Peach tried to comfort Michelle. Sure, she thought, the gray rental SUV was stuck real good in a ditch and she was standing out in the middle of nowhere getting soaked by a hard falling snow and being attacked by a cruel wind, but life was full of surprises. So what if her nose froze off and she ended up with pneumonia? So what if she came down with hypothermia and frostbite? “Oh, give me strength,” Momma Peach whispered in a desperate voice and quickly pushed her negative thoughts away into the wind. “Michelle, there's no sense in standing in this here blizzard beating yourself silly. Isn’t that right, Mr. Sam?”

  Michelle looked at Sam. Sam bent down, checking the right front tire on the SUV. Snow covered the poor man’s jacket and he appeared just as frozen as Momma Peach felt. “Accidents happen in weather like this,” Sam said in a supportive voice. He stood up, knocked snow off his brown cowboy hat, and studied the deserted road. The falling snow mingled with the wind and filled his eyes. White fields and trees outlined with snow stretched to the hills; white, white and more white. Not that he minded the snow. It felt like a nice change. Being a desert man for most of his life, Sam had become accustomed to the heat. The snow and cold felt different—peaceful, inviting; and even mysterious. The snow somehow created an entirely different world before his eyes, a world he had never seen or been part of before. “My, it sure is beautiful.”

  “Beauty best seen from a nice sofa with a warm fire and a warm cup of coffee in your hands, Sam,” Momma Peach said and hugged the thick winter jacket as bright red as a summer-ripe strawberry. Momma Peach did not care what color it was, just as long as her body stayed warm.

  Sam tossed a look at Momma Peach and grinned. The poor woman did look like a frostbitten strawberry. He wanted to tease her, but thought better of it. Teasing Momma Peach when she shivered with cold was not a good idea unless you wanted to be whacked upside the head with her pocketbook. “Momma Peach, why don't you get back inside the SUV? There's enough gas to run the heater for a while.”

  Michelle agreed. Even though Momma Peach dressed like Nanook of the North, she looked absolutely frozen solid. “The tow truck may be a while.”

  Momma Peach turned her head to the left and then to the right. She saw only snow whirling in every direction and not a village or even a farmhouse in sight. “Now I know what those little snowmen living in them tiny little snow globes feel like,” she said and looked over her shoulder at the SUV. “I don't like the smell of that SUV. The person who rented it before us must have forgotten that soap and water are real nice friends. No air freshener in the world can cover that up.” Momma Peach wrinkled her nose. “Pee-yew.”

  Sam shrugged his shoulders at Michelle. What could he say? Momma Peach had a point, and they all knew it. The inside of the SUV smelled like a gym sock left sweating in a locker. The extra strong rose-scented air freshener he had purchased at a gas station along the way proved no match for the smell, either. It actually made the stench worse. By contrast, the icy air and snow smelled fresh and raw; invigorating. “Yeah, guess I was wrong about hoping a spray can would help get rid of the smell.”

  Momma Peach raised a thick red glove up into the air and gestured at the falling snow. “At least you smell good, don't you babies,” she spoke to the snowflakes. “At least you—” Momma Peach stopped talking when she caught movement out of the side of her eye. She slowly turned and spotted a fierce bull walking through the field behind the SUV. No fence separated the field from the road and the ditch where they now stood, and the bull aimed its body straight at the SUV. “Uh, Mr. Sam?” Momma Peach asked in a lowly squeak. “We have ourselves some company.”

  Sam swung around, spotted the bull, and froze. The bull stopped and stared at Sam with daring, angry eyes. “Michelle, my gun is in the SUV. Take your gun out and fire a few warning shots into the air,” he said in a quick voice.

  “I would, but I left my gun in the SUV, too, Sam,” Michelle replied in a low voice in order not to startle the bull. The bull did not look like he was in any mood to be nice to three snow-covered strangers. “Everyone ease toward the SUV, nice and slow.”

  “Nice and slow,” Momma Peach swallowed and forced her brown snow boots to move. As soon as her right foot moved so did the bull. “Oh, give me strength,” Momma Peach whimpered. “Mr. Bull, I ain't done nothing to you. Go back to your home and eat some hay, okay?” The bull stopped moving and stared at Momma Peach.

  “Easy now,” Sam said and took a careful step toward the back door of the SUV. The bull’s head swiveled to Sam and the animal let out a loud, angry snort. “Easy now, big guy,” Sam said and held his hands up in the air. “I’m a friend.” The bull was not interested in being placated. It lowered its head and without warning charged forward, straight at Momma Peach.

  “Oh, help me!” Momma Peach let out a loud cry and got her short little legs moving down the snowy road. The bull began chasing her. “Oh help me, somebody! I’m about to get bucked to the moon by a deranged bull!”

  “Get back to the SUV, Momma Peach!” Michelle yelled, ran to the SUV, yanked open the front passenger door, and found her gun.

  Momma Peach forced her short little legs to run as fast as they could. But when she looked over her shoulder and saw the bull gaining ground she let out a fierce c
ry and ran even faster. Rather than show concern for his friend's life that was in danger, Sam was too busy laughing. He saw only a plump, frostbitten strawberry running on short legs through the snow with an angry bull giving chase. “Run, Momma Peach!” he yelled, busting a gut. “Run!”

  “Not funny,” Michelle slapped Sam on his shoulder as she ran past him and began firing her gun into the air. “Get out of here! Go on! Get!”

  Sam dropped his elbows down onto his knees and grabbed his stomach. “Oh, Momma Peach,” he continued laughing.

  Momma Peach was too busy running to hear Sam. But she did hear Michelle begin firing her gun and dared to look over her shoulder a second time. She saw the bull change direction and veer off into the field across the street. “Get!” Michelle continued to yell and emptied an entire clip into the air as she slid to a stop beside Momma Peach. The bull tucked its tail down and made tracks through the field.

  “Oh, sweet baby,” Momma Peach said, breathing hard. She grabbed Michelle and hugged her. “Oh, how I love you, Michelle.”

  Michelle hugged Momma Peach and then pointed at Sam. Sam had trouble standing upright, still bent over and laughing so hard he thought he might burst into pieces. “It was your idea to bring him,” she sighed and shook her head.

  Momma Peach spotted Sam with tears of laughter in his eyes. She narrowed her eyes and marched down the road to him. “So me getting my backside chased by a bull is funny, is it, Mr. Sam?” she asked in a tone intended to be threatening. But Sam continued laughing. Momma Peach tried to stay mad but she imagined how she must have looked scuttling down the road, huffing and puffing. She burst out laughing herself. “I guess I did look a bit silly, huh, Sam?”

  “Oh, it hurts to laugh,” Sam said with tears still flowing from his eyes. “I'm sorry Momma Peach...I don't mean to laugh...it's just...your little legs can only go so fast, but you were…so determined...” Sam cracked up again.

  Michelle walked up to Sam and shook her head at him. “Sam, really?” she asked. “Momma Peach could have been hurt.”

  Sam looked around. The bull was gone. Now it was time to really have some fun. “Like this, you mean?” he asked and stooped to make a quick snowball with his bare hands, then threw the snowball at Michelle.

  “Hey!” Michelle yelled as the snowball exploded against the front of her jacket. “Sam!”

  “What are you going to do?” Sam teased Michelle and scooped more snow into his hands. “What's the matter, afraid of a little snow?” he asked and threw a second snowball at Michelle. The snowball struck Michelle in her face.

  Michelle began spitting snow out of her mouth and looked at Momma Peach for help. “Momma Peach, will you control him?” she begged.

  Momma Peach grinned. “Sure,” she said and scooped up a handful of snow, ran over to Michelle, and dumped it over her head. “But first you gotta control me!”

  “Oh, that's it!” Michelle yelled. She jogged over to the SUV, put her gun away, slapped on a pair of black gloves and turned around. “Now it's on!”

  Sam pulled a pair of gray gloves out of his coat and put them on. “We're ready for you, right Momma Peach?”

  “Right, Sam,” Momma Peach laughed and gathered more snow into her hands.

  Michelle narrowed her eyes and she packed the snow into a compact snowball. Before they could react, she ran forward, flipped with acrobatic grace, and landed behind Momma Peach. “Take this!” she yelled in a triumphant voice and shoved the snow down the back of Momma Peach's coat. Momma Peach let out a shriek and began dancing around like she was on fire. Michelle turned her attention to Sam.

  “I'm ready for you,” Sam laughed and tossed a snowball up into the air and caught it.

  Michelle grinned and quickly made another snowball. “You asked for it,” she said. Before Sam could move an inch Michelle threw it into the air, jumped up, kicked it, and sent the snowball flying right at his face. All Sam remembered before being splatted was thinking that picking a fight with a martial arts expert had not been such a good idea after all. “Victory!” Michelle yelled and began jumping around with her arms in the air.

  Sam wiped snow from his face and looked at Momma Peach. “I think we've just been put in our place, Momma Peach.”

  “Don’t you speak the truth,” Momma Peach agreed as she shook snow out of the back of her coat.

  “Thank you, thank you,” Michelle said and made a victorious bow toward Momma Peach and Sam. “I thank you for my victory.”

  Sam tossed a wink at Momma Peach. Momma Peach winked right back. Then in the distance, she spotted a bright red tow truck driving down the snow-covered road. “Ah, here comes our help. It won't be long now before I wrap my hands around a nice hot cup of coffee. Yes, sir and yes ma’am.”

  “And a donut,” Michelle added. “I'm starving.”

  “I think I'm going to have me a stack of hot flapjacks, some turkey bacon, an omelet, some biscuits and gravy and coffee,” Sam said and rubbed his belly. “That little bowl of cereal back at the hotel we stayed at last night didn't do me any good.”

  Momma Peach nodded. “You said it. I’m hungry enough to eat me a...well, a bull,” she laughed and moved closer to the SUV. Suddenly she did not feel cold anymore. As a matter of fact, she felt very, very happy, standing out in the snow with two people that she loved with all of her heart. “Thank you, Lord,” she whispered and watched a frozen Sam wave at the tow truck and a cold Michelle brush snow from her gloves.

  The driver of the tow truck eased up to Sam and rolled down the driver's side window. To Momma Peach's shock, a tough little woman with gray hair who had to be at least sixty years old stuck her head out of the window. “Got here as soon as I could,” the woman said in greeting and looked past Sam toward the SUV. “I'll have you out of that ditch in a hurry.”

  Sam looked at Momma Peach and Michelle. Michelle shrugged her shoulders. “Uh...sure,” he said and watched the woman climb out of the truck dressed in a thick gray snowsuit. “I...I can help if you want.”

  “I may look old, but let me tell you, I can still pull a vehicle from a ditch,” the woman said in a slightly grumpy tone. “How do you think I got this job?” she muttered with a roll of her eyes. “Driving around hoping for cowboys to wander by?” She aimed an amused look at Sam’s snow-dusted cowboy hat as she pulled a large wrench out of the toolbox in her truck. “You just stand back and stay out of my way, you hear?”

  Sam held his hands up in the air and backed up to the SUV. Thelma nodded and studied the SUV. “Nah, not bad at all,” she said and climbed back into her tow truck.

  “Now that's my kind of woman,” Momma Peach beamed and nudged Sam with her elbow. “You better stay out her way, Mr. Sam, you whippersnapper.” Sam blushed, folded his arms, and watched Thelma position the tow truck in front of the SUV. What a morning it had been so far.

  “So what are you doing way out here in Ridge Falls?” Thelma asked as she slapped snow off a pair of worn leather work gloves as she studied the front of the SUV for damage. It had taken her only about ten minutes to attach a towing cable and pull it back onto the road for them.

  “A friend,” Michelle explained, signing the payment receipt on the grease-stained clipboard, and looked at Thelma. “Okay, we're all set.”

  Thelma took the clipboard from Michelle and tucked it under her arm without even glancing at the receipt. She studied Michelle with wise eyes. “I know everyone in Ridge Falls, missy. Who’s your friend?”

  Michelle slowly slid her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket. Now that the SUV was back on the road and cleared for travel, she was ready to move. Standing in the snow telling a complete stranger her business was not part of the agenda. “Is there a diner in town?” she asked, changing the subject. “My friends and I are hungry.”

  “Mom's Diner sits right in the middle of town,” Thelma answered Michelle, but she wasn’t deterred and asked her question again. “So, who's your friend? And who are you, for that matter? This is a rental SUV, which tells
me a lot. And from your accent,” Thelma nodded at Momma Peach, “I'd say you're from the Deep South.”

  “Georgia,” Momma Peach told Thelma and offered her a gentle smile. She sure liked Thelma, even though the woman was nosy.

  “Not him, though. Right, cowboy?” Thelma nodded at Sam. “You're one of them West Coast people. My son lives in California and talks like you.”

  Sam leaned against the hood of the SUV. “You're good,” he told Thelma. “I'm from California but lived in the Nevada desert for many years.”

  “Your face has the look of a desert man,” Thelma said agreeably and then focused on Michelle. “You, well, I can't place your accent. What's your name, missy?”

  Michelle grew impatient. “Detective Michelle Chan,” she said and bit down on her tongue to hold back her annoyance.

  “Oh, you're a cop?” Thelma replied without slowing down. “I guess you could pass for a donut-eater.”

  “I'm a homicide detective.”

  “Nobody died around here,” Thelma told Michelle in a bored voice. “Well, Old Man Phillips died last week in his sleep. The man was ninety-eight. Are you here to investigate his death and find out if he died of heart failure or to see if his seventy-eight-year-old daughter stuffed a pillow over his face?”

  Michelle rolled her eyes. “Not funny,” she scolded Thelma. “I'm here because a friend asked for my...asked me to pay her a visit, okay? Gee, are you nosy. Don't you have another vehicle to pull out of the snow or something?”

  “Nope.”

  “Don’t you have someone else to harass today?” Michelle asked in a rude tone. Momma Peach shot her a sharp eye. “Sorry, I guess that was out of line.”

  “You have spunk,” Thelma told Michelle and punched her arm, “I like that.”