Fried Pickles and the Fuzz by Calico Daniels

and blood that her Granny loved . You take that away from her , and you’ll have lost any chance you ever had with her. ”
    â€œWhat’s that supposed to mean?” Bronson tilted his head and looked at the cocky redhead.
    â€œOh , come off it. Everyone in town knows you’ve got a thing for Heather. You get all doe - eyed every time you’re around her.”
    â€œI do not.”
    â€œYeah, you do, Sheriff,” Martin chimed in from his desk at the back of the room.
    â€œYou keep quiet, Martin,” Beth Ann pointed a finger at the dispatcher, “or I’ll tell your girl what you really do on Tuesday nights when she thinks you’re playin’ poker with the boys over at the feed barn.”
    Bronson craned around in time to see Martin turn a deep shade of red and quickly return to his computer monitor.
    â€œSecond off,” Bronson turned back only to find himself the focal point of Beth Ann’s full fury once again, “get off your duff and tell Heather how you feel before you do something too stupid to ask forgiveness for. ” Beth Ann straightened and pinned hi m with a frosty glare.
    â€œAnything else?”
    â€œYeah, make sure you win her box ed lunch today. It’ll give you the perfect opportunity to apologize. ” With that, the spitfire flashed him a million - watt smile then turned and walked from the building calling, “Have a nice day, Sheriff,” over her shoulder as she went .
    Bronson sat for a moment in the deafening silen ce of the office , letting everything Beth Ann said soak in. While it had never been his intention to hurt Heather, Beth Ann’s revelation had changed things. He needed to make some calls and figure out a workable solution that would make everyone happy. Especially Heather.
    A low whistle came from the back of the room. “You sure mad e her mad, Sheriff.”
    Bronson turned and looked at Martin. “So, where do you go on Tuesdays?”
    The other man promptly returned to his attention to his computer.
    ****
    Heather crossed Main Street and joined the growing crowd on the town square lawn. Many of the locals smiled and nodded their greetings as she made her way to the gazebo in the center of the square. Two long tables were positioned in the center of the structure, each one laden with uniquely decorated boxes and baskets, but all filled with home - cooked fix i n ’ s made in honor of the tradition of a box ed lunch social. In turn, each lunch and the woman or girl who had prepared it would step up to the auction block , and the male residents of Big Creek County would commence the bidding war. The auction proceeds benefited the Historical Society and would be used to maintain many of the historically significant structures in the county.
    Because of the sheer number of entrants this year , it had been decided that the auction would be split into two parts in the hopes that the live event would move a little quicker and allow folks to enjoy their meals . All during the week , the list of ladies participating was available at the Community C enter , and folks were allowed to stop by and place their bid silent auction style. The final bidding would happen today live , right in the center of town.
    After climbing the steps to the main floor of the structure, Heather handed her wicker basket to Mildred Bonam, President of the Historical Society. “I’m sure it will fetch a nice bid, Heather.”
    â€œI sure hope so, Mrs. Bonam. I’m just glad I’m back in town and able to join in.” Heather stepped back to make room for the other women who were bringing up donations and headed off to find Beth Ann.
    Within minutes she found her best friend leaning against the trunk of a hundred - year - old oak, her arms folded over her chest. The far - off expression on her face and unfocused look in her eyes made it pretty clear to Heather that Beth Ann was woolgathering in a big way. About what,