Simple Secrets (The Harmony Series 1) by Nancy Mehl Page B

sugar, and orange plastic container with nonsugar sweeteners. Cerulean blue walls were covered with photographs. Many of them looked pretty old. Without closer inspection, I assumed they were pictures of the town down through the years and of the people who had called Harmony home. Some of the portraits looked to be from the 1800s or early 1900s. Scattered among lots of smiling faces, several dour looking families frowned upon the easygoing patrons enjoying their food.
    Sam pointed to a table for two next to a wall near the window. “How’s this?”
    I nodded and sat down on one side of the table while he took the other chair.
    “Mary! You got customers!” An older man in overalls who sat in a nearby booth hollered toward the back of the restaurant.
    A long wooden counter that matched the booths held large glass containers filled with slices of pie and cake. An old cash register sat underneath one of the café’s hanging lights, which consisted of large, white, round globes positioned around the interior of the room. Most of them were glowing even though the intense daylight that streamed through the front windows made their attempt to provide proper illumination completely futile. Steam rose from two coffeepots sitting on a warmer behind the counter, and overhead someone had mounted a couple of dead fish on the wall. Next to the stuffed fish, two large chalkboards contained the day’s specials. A hallway next to the backward L-shaped counter led to restrooms and a door that had to be the entryway into the kitchen. An old metal step stool pushed against the door held it open. A couple of minutes later, a rather harried-looking young woman came out carrying plates of hot, steaming food.
    “If you yell a little louder, Harold, they can hear you in Council Grove.”
    The chastised Harold greeted her good-natured ribbing with a raucous laugh.
    “Just tryin’ to keep you on your toes, Mary,” he said with a grin. “Didn’t want nobody starvin’ to death due to your pokiness.”
    The woman plopped a large plate in front of him. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” She jabbed at the man’s large belly. “You could live on what you’ve got stored up for quite some time.”
    The other two men sitting with Harold exploded with laughter. I noticed that one of the Mennonite families sitting nearby joined in the merriment. The overall feeling inside the restaurant was one of cozy familiarity.
    After serving the rest of the plates in her hands, Mary headed our way. Her quick smile for Sam faded when she saw me. But she fixed it back into place so fast most people wouldn’t have noticed.
    “Howdy, Sam. Who’s this pretty lady? You’re not stepping out on me, are you?” She placed her hands on her hips and locked her gaze on me. She had long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. Long lashes framed deep brown eyes set in a heart-shaped face.
    Sam flushed a nice shade of pink. “Now Mary, you be nice.” His smile seemed a little tight. “This is Ben Temple’s niece, Grace. She’s here to take care of his estate.”
    I saw a flicker of relief in her expression. “Nice to meet you, Grace,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Mary Whittenbauer. I own this joint.” Her grip was stronger than I’d expected.
    “Most people call me Gracie. Nice to meet you. I hear you fix a mean breakfast.”
    “Well, Hector Ramirez, my cook, is responsible for most of the meals here. I tell people I taught him everything he knows, but he says it’s the other way around.”
    She looked at Sam. “You havin’ the usual?”
    He nodded.
    Mary pointed to one of the chalkboards on the wall. “That’s our menu. What sounds good to you, Gracie?”
    I picked the regular breakfast with scrambled eggs, sausage, hash browns, and toast. I said yes to coffee and watched Mary saunter back to the kitchen.
    “I take it you two date?”
    Sam looked at the tabletop like he saw something interesting there. “We’ve dated some,