Breakfast at the Honey Creek Café

Home > Historical > Breakfast at the Honey Creek Café > Page 17
Breakfast at the Honey Creek Café Page 17

by Jodi Thomas


  The late-afternoon temperature was cooling thanks to a few clouds floating above. Sunshine and shadows made a patchwork over the sidewalks. This was his third day in Honey Creek and he felt like he’d lived here forever. There was something about the people. The way they talked. The way they told stories of the early days with a bit of a smile. The way they cared about each other and let people live the way they wanted. Crazy seemed a gypsy thread running through everyone’s family quilt.

  As he stepped into the square, people waved at him. One couple even rushed over to tell him that the mayor was on the shady side of city hall.

  Colby took his time walking there. He liked hearing the sounds. A barker yelling for kids to pay for a chance to shoot a water gun at their teachers for charity. A mother calling her children by name and birth order. People talking and laughing. A few felt the need to yell hello to anyone they hadn’t talked to in an hour.

  He’d grown up in the cities. Dallas, Austin, even spent a year in Houston. Most of his memories were of being in the back seat of a car driving in traffic. His parents were focused on their careers. They loved him dearly but were disappointed when he turned down law school to be a trooper. Neither ever asked about his work.

  He’d seen a great deal, but here it was like all his senses came alive. He wasn’t just looking. He was feeling, hearing, smelling.

  Speaking of smelling, he stopped by the cotton candy booth before finally finding Piper sitting in the long shade from a dying sun.

  One of the Jeffs he’d met in the bar the first day he’d arrived was sitting beside her as if keeping guard. As soon as he saw Colby, he stood and said his goodbyes.

  “Evening, darlin’.” Colby bowed slightly. “I see you’re stepping out with another man even after our night—”

  She stopped his rambling by grabbing his arm and pulling him down to the chair beside her. “Hello, cowboy. I see you haven’t learned to tell time yet. You were supposed to pick me up at three for this, our first and last date.”

  Colby was aware there were people listening. “I drove all over the valley looking for a gift for you. A memento of our first date. But, what do I get a woman who has everything?”

  * * *

  Piper thought about saying his absence, but in truth the cowboy act was growing on her. “So what did you come up with?” She pinched off a bite of his cotton candy.

  He grinned that irritating puppy-dog grin. “All I could think of was me. I’m yours, PJ. All yours.” The band started setting up. Colby took a look at the small stage. Two men, no long-legged woman. “Promise you’ll dance with me.”

  “You can dance?”

  “I majored in it at college.” He reached for her hand.

  “I have no doubt.” She pulled away as a man and a woman approached to say hello.

  Colby was dying to tell her about what he’d found, but people kept interrupting. They’d say hello to the mayor, then cut their eyes to him. Piper was forced to introduce him.

  “I’m her date,” he’d say every time. She’d frown at him. The people would smile and leave. They’d found out what they came over to find. The mayor had a date.

  After half an hour they were alone for a moment. She leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Stop telling people you’re my date.”

  “But I am your date,” he whispered back, his lips tickling her ear. His voice shifted slightly. All business now. “There are things I need to tell you. Information. Can we go somewhere to talk?”

  “No, there are too many people watching. Later.”

  Another family came up to show Piper their newest grandchild. The chubby toddler grabbed Colby’s finger and wouldn’t let go. Colby felt like he was being attacked by a sticky jellyfish. Any minute he’d be stung.

  Sure enough, while the grandparents were visiting with Piper, the little monster bit the tip of Colby’s finger with his only two teeth.

  Colby leaned down and said, “I’m not eatable.”

  As they went toward the kiddie rides, Colby moved close to Piper and whispered, “I’d be mad, too, if I was named Truman,” which got a laugh out of her.

  She shook her head. “That’s not his problem, you were. You didn’t taste good.”

  For once they both laughed.

  When the music started Colby stood and offered Piper his hand. In her high heels and summer dress she looked ready to dance. She accepted his offer with a smile.

  For a few dances he kept it simple, but the flare of her skirt made twirling her fun and she moved easier in heels to the western music than most women do in boots. Best of all he liked touching her and when he pulled her close, she came willingly. Her hand rested on his shoulder as her fingers played with his hair. The light touch drove him mad.

  Colby tried to concentrate on watching the stage. He was waiting for Marcie to show up, but so far no one had joined the male band of three.

  When a slow dance began, he pulled Piper into his arms and leaned close to her ear.

  Piper managed to follow his steps as he told her all about what he’d learned.

  He ended with, “If someone picked her up Saturday morning on the church steps, it was probably Boone. She’d been calling him. Likely she left word where she was and that she was out of gas.”

  “Well, that’s if he’s alive,” Piper said. “She could have called her brother and he finally showed up before the preacher came back.”

  Colby took time to twirl her around. When she came back to him he murmured. “I love it when you whisper in my ear, darlin’.”

  She pulled away a bit and gave him a frustrated look. A few dancers around them smiled.

  Colby looked around. “You live in a fishbowl, Mayor.”

  “I do. Remember that, cowboy.”

  As they danced, Colby got used to her in his arms. His great aunt, on the Mormon branch of the family, told Colby dancing was nothing but foreplay. Colby sure hoped she was right.

  When the next slow song began, he pulled her close again and she did that whispering thing he loved. “I don’t care what Boone’s doing with some woman named Marcie. I just want him to be alive and out of my world.”

  Colby didn’t answer right away. He realized if the case was solved, there would be no reason for him to stay. He closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of Piper, the feel of her so close made him feel high. How could he be falling hard for a woman in two days? It didn’t make sense. He was a love-’em-and-leave-’em kind of guy.

  Someone tapped him on the shoulder. Bringing Colby back to reality.

  “May I dance with the mayor?”

  Colby stepped aside as the lodge manager moved in. For a moment he watched them moving awkwardly like a clock wound backward. All the grace of Piper in his arms was lost on Digger, but the old guy was laughing. He kept one leg still like it was nailed to the ground and circled her round and round.

  Colby’s attention moved to the stage. There was a woman waiting in the shadows behind the band. Long hair tied back in a ponytail. A peasant blouse looking like it was held up by only her breasts. Her long skirt swayed to the music.

  Then she was onstage and singing with the band.

  One member of the band smiled at her. The brother, Colby guessed.

  After three songs Colby saw that Digger had passed Piper off to another man. She looked like she was enjoying herself. He’d be lucky to get another dance. There was a line forming.

  Which was fine. He needed to concentrate on the woman onstage. The one person who might know where Boone Buchanan was.

  At the end of the next song, the pony-tailed singer in the long skirt kissed her brother and waved goodbye to the crowd. A moment later she was off the back of the stage and disappearing from view. She was moving fast.

  Colby had no time to signal Piper. He was right behind the woman. Trying to keep up. Trying to be invisible as he followed her through a side street.

  Chapter 24

  Sunset

  Sam

  Sam Cassidy thought that
he must have the worst tour guide ever born. Anna Presley was small and could dart between people, losing him in a second. What was worse, she blamed him for not paying attention when he finally found her. Along Main Street she spent more time telling him what used to be there than what was there now.

  Someone must have wound her up too tight at birth and she hadn’t slowed down since. Then there was her voice. Like an old record someone was playing on the wrong speed. To be honest, Anna sounded like one of the Chipmunks.

  Of course, he was at a town square fair so he could see half the event from any one corner. Plus, her red hair was hard to miss. The only time she seemed to stay near was when they were in the food lines. In less than an hour she’d tried a fried Oreo, two hot dogs, and a plate of sweet potato fries covered in cheese. Sam felt like he was her walking TV tray.

  Most of the people at the fair had been in the church that morning and several complimented him on his sermon.

  Sam noticed Daily Watts wandering around and, for once, he didn’t look drunk. There was a sadness about him that sank all the way to his bones. He mostly stayed on the edge of the crowd but when the music started, it drew him closer.

  Sam guessed that at some time in his life Daily had loved music.

  “You want to dance, Sam?” Anna asked as she circled him like a carnivore looking for her next meal.

  Sam thought about it. He was over a foot taller than she was. It would never work. She’d have to stand on his shoes to keep up. “I was thinking about trying the taco truck.”

  Anna nodded. “We can split a dozen. You’ll need to buy beer too.” She led him to a few picnic tables between the food trucks. No one was eating there this late, and corners of the food trucks squared off the crowd almost like they were watching a big-screen TV of the fair.

  The tables were too low and he had to turn his feet sideways to get in. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was better than dancing.

  While they ate, she told him about the people who passed by. “See that guy with a beard that must touch his belly button. He claims he is a direct descendent of Davy Crockett. His great-great-grandmother was delivering tamales to the Alamo and she had a fling with Davy.”

  Sam laughed. Who knows, Texas history wasn’t his strong field, the guy could be right. Someone once told him the accounts of early Texas were written by outlaws, rebels, and saddlebag lawyers. Texas history was put together with lies, bragging, and tobacco spit.

  Anna added, “If you look real close at the librarian, who is now selling balloons, you’ll notice he has only four fingers on each hand. It’s hereditary.”

  Sam kept grinning.

  “And Digger over there.” She pointed to an old man limping slightly. “He was once abducted by aliens. He claims he told such grand stories that they tried to keep him. He said they pulled his leg plum off when he escaped. He’ll show you the stub if you want to see.”

  Sam stared at her. “Are you telling me that all the locals are loco?”

  “I am.” Anna shook her head as if sorry to have to enlighten him.

  He leaned closer and asked, “And I’m talking to one of the locals?”

  “You are.”

  He laughed. “Am I in any danger of catching this illness?”

  She closed the distance between them and kissed him on the mouth.

  He tasted hot sauce and paradise. Maybe it was because no one had kissed him in the three years since April died. Or maybe fire sparked when they touched like it does in old romantic movies. Or maybe that’s how these locals drive the visitors crazy.

  Sam didn’t know or care. All he could think of was for the first time in a long time he felt alive.

  As he leaned in for another taste of those lips, she stood. “I have to get home. Stella won’t know what to do if she gets to my house and I’m not there. Fun’s over, got to run.”

  Sam fought to get his legs out of the tiny picnic table. “I’ll follow you home,” he announced to air. Anna was already half a block away.

  He realized that his words sounded a bit creepy and was glad she hadn’t heard him. When he ran to catch up, he said, “I’m worried about her too. Who knows what that organ player is really like? Maybe we should run a background check on him. I wonder if there is a file of organ players who murder people as a hobby. As soon as we get to your house, you make coffee and we’ll start a round-the-clock stakeout until we know poor little thirty-two-year-old Stella is safe.”

  She shook her head as she marched two steps to his one. “I get the point. I may be overreacting. But I will make the coffee and wait. There is no need for you to come.”

  “I’m willing to be on guard all night. I’ll stay over at your place until I know she’s safe. It’s the least I can do for the church bookkeeper.”

  “You don’t fit in my house. You’ll have to sleep on the porch, so you’d better hope Paul brings her back early.”

  Sam grinned. She hadn’t said no.

  Sam walked back to the church holding Anna’s hand. She frowned, but she didn’t pull away. When Paul’s old van wasn’t at the church, Sam followed her back to her tiny house.

  She made coffee and they talked, but she didn’t kiss him again. He realized that one kiss had changed his whole way of thinking. Anna had probably forgotten it entirely.

  After several minutes of silence, she asked, “Did you see Stella’s brother, Benjamin, today?”

  “Nope.” Sam set down his coffee. “You know, maybe we’re looking at this backward. Maybe he’s glad she’s finally jumped out of the nest?”

  “Possible, but not likely. She took care of him. She keeps the church books and some say she’s the one who does the taxes at his firm even though he’s got the degree.”

  “Maybe he’s planning how to get her to come back on her own?” Sam wanted to add that he didn’t much care what the brother and sister did, as long as Benjamin wasn’t forcing her to stay.

  “That might be a good guess,” she added. “It does seem strange that he didn’t come looking for her. They both are always in church.”

  As the night aged and the stars came out in all their grandeur, Anna brought out a blanket and sat in the tall grass at the side of her house. When she leaned back to look at what she called her stars, he stood up from the chair on the porch.

  “Mind if I share your blanket?”

  “No, make yourself comfortable.” She moved to one side.

  He stood above her. “I wouldn’t mind kissing you again, Anna. Any objections?”

  She was silent for so long he thought she hadn’t heard him, then she said, “No, I wouldn’t mind. I guess it’s only fair.”

  He lowered his body over hers and kissed her before she had time to comment. His kiss was deep and hungry with no hesitation and she tasted great.

  When he lifted his weight just above her, she smiled. “When I said make yourself comfortable, I didn’t mean on top of me.”

  He dropped to her side. “Are you filing a complaint? I did it in self-defense. If you took off like you did at the fair, I’d never find you in this dark.”

  To his surprise, she did that silent thing again. In the stillness he could hear her breathing. Finally, she said, “It’s been a long time since I’ve been kissed like that.”

  “For me too,” he answered. “What if neither one of us remembered how? We’re both almost into our forties. Once there we’re closer to death than birth probably. Not much hope of learning anything new.”

  She propped up on her elbow and was almost nose-to-nose with him. “Shut up and kiss me again, Sam. If you keep talking, you’ll convince me never to speak to you again.”

  He closed the distance, almost touching his lips to hers. “I was in the army, Anna. I can follow orders.”

  Neither said another word. They had found other ways of communicating.

  An hour later, when they saw Paul’s car pull off the main road, Anna and Sam managed to make it to the two chairs on the porch before the couple pulled up.

 
If Stella noticed they both had grass in their hair, she didn’t mention it.

  Sam took a few gulps of cold coffee and said he’d better get back to town. The organ player said he’d stay for a cup so he’d stay awake long enough to make it home.

  Anna walked Sam out to his car. When he bent to kiss her, she backed away. “What happened between us tonight, Sam—that was just something that happened, nothing more. You know? Physical attraction.”

  “I understand,” he said, but he didn’t understand at all. He’d felt her melting into him. He’d tasted the hunger in her.

  “Don’t go thinking that we’re together, you know, like dating. I don’t have time for that kind of thing. I figured out a long time ago that if I date at some point I’ll have to break up with the guy. It’s a merry-go-round I stepped off of years ago.”

  He wanted to kiss her again, if for no other reason than to shut her up. She was ruining every fragile feeling beginning to grow in him. Anger boiled up from deep inside. He wasn’t some kid on a first date, or a dreamer looking for love. He liked his life. He was surviving, even helping to make the world a better place. He didn’t need to be told that this wasn’t going to be anything to her.

  “Good night, Anna. I wish you the best.”

  He was in his car and backing away before she could say another word.

  “Forget doing this job for another week,” he said out loud. “Tomorrow I’m going back where I belong. This was a crazy idea anyway.” He pounded the steering wheel and almost ran off the two-lane road.

  He pushed the window down and let the night air in. His heart slowed down and he realized he was feeling, really feeling, for the first time in a long time. A heart that had stopped three years ago and now it was pounding against his ribs. Deep down, he ached. The wall he’d built around his heart was crumbling.

  Hell, it hurt. And it was all Anna’s fault.

  Chapter 25

  Midnight

 

‹ Prev