interesting to see Miller’s Creek through your eyes. Folks around here think the town is dying.”
“Dying?”
“Let’s just say the town’s not what it used to be. Steve’s determined to bring it back. He’s meeting with an investor today.”
Her interest skyrocketed. “Why?”
Mama Beth followed her up the porch steps. “To get money to renovate downtown Miller’s Creek.”
“Isn’t that a job for the city officials?”
“Well, yes. Steve’s the mayor.”
A fist of surprise punched her in the gut, and she plopped down in the rocking chair. Ranch owner and mayor. Just wonderful. In less than a day’s time she’d already alienated the most important person in town.
* * *
Steve scratched his head then let his hand drop to the old wooden desk. All morning long he’d racked his brain for another solution to the problem Miller’s Creek faced, but nothing measured up to his original plan of finding outside investors. Maybe the answer would come when he wasn’t trying so hard to find it.
His focus turned to Dani. Why couldn’t he get the city woman out of his mind? Just about the time he had thoughts of her neatly tucked away, she elbowed her way back in. He laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back. Mama Beth mentioned she’d been through rough times, but it just didn’t add up. Anyone who dressed like she did couldn’t have it too rough. And that rock on her finger could sustain a third world country.
Steve’s conscience niggled at him. He shouldn’t have been so testy last night, but Mama Beth was gullible and loving, an easy target. She’d worked hard and lived simply to save her nest egg, and he wasn’t about to sit back while some long-lost niece took advantage of her kindness.
He hefted a sigh and scooted his chair close to the desk. He’d just returned to work when Wanda poked her head around the door. “You coming out for lunch, or are you going to sit here and sulk?” Her nasal voice sliced the air.
Steve mustered a smile and continued to jot a reminder on a sticky note. “Want to grab a bite at Granny’s?”
“Sorry, can’t. Got a beauty shop appointment with Jolene.”
A shiver raced down his backbone. Jolene Briscoe, the town hairstylist and busybody, married at least four times, now had her sights aimed at him. No thanks. If he needed a trim, he’d drive to Morganville. Besides, what kind of man wanted his hair cut at a place called Country Cutz and Curlz?
Wanda gave him the once-over through narrowed eyes. “If you ask me, you could use a trim yourself. Want me to make you an appointment?”
“No.” Definitely not. He rose to his feet and shuffled the papers on his desk. Time for his escape. His lunch buddies might be able to help him come up with a plan for Miller’s Creek. “I’m going to meet the old geezers for lunch at Granny’s. After that I’ll be at the ranch.”
The sun on his face refreshed him and made him eager to get to the ranch to spend the rest of the day outside. There was always plenty to do this time of year between plowing, planting, and the calves and colts. Steve whistled as he made the short walk to Granny’s Kitchen, operated by elderly identical twin sisters. Opal and Pearl Atwood were now affectionately known as the Grannies since no one in town could tell them apart. He entered the door to the tantalizing smell of southern-fried cooking, his mouth watering, and scanned the crowded room.
Lots of buzz already going on. As the town’s only sit-down restaurant, Granny’s ranked right behind Country Cutz & Curlz as the best place for gossip. If you didn’t count B & B Hardware, that is. He waved, shook hands, and said his “hellos,” as he made his way to the usual table at the back.
“Well, look who’s here.” Coot Sanders’ voice blasted like a braying donkey in a tin barn. “The mayor finally arrived so we can ask him about that suit he was walking around town with this morning.”
Steve sent him a dark
“Dying?”
“Let’s just say the town’s not what it used to be. Steve’s determined to bring it back. He’s meeting with an investor today.”
Her interest skyrocketed. “Why?”
Mama Beth followed her up the porch steps. “To get money to renovate downtown Miller’s Creek.”
“Isn’t that a job for the city officials?”
“Well, yes. Steve’s the mayor.”
A fist of surprise punched her in the gut, and she plopped down in the rocking chair. Ranch owner and mayor. Just wonderful. In less than a day’s time she’d already alienated the most important person in town.
* * *
Steve scratched his head then let his hand drop to the old wooden desk. All morning long he’d racked his brain for another solution to the problem Miller’s Creek faced, but nothing measured up to his original plan of finding outside investors. Maybe the answer would come when he wasn’t trying so hard to find it.
His focus turned to Dani. Why couldn’t he get the city woman out of his mind? Just about the time he had thoughts of her neatly tucked away, she elbowed her way back in. He laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back. Mama Beth mentioned she’d been through rough times, but it just didn’t add up. Anyone who dressed like she did couldn’t have it too rough. And that rock on her finger could sustain a third world country.
Steve’s conscience niggled at him. He shouldn’t have been so testy last night, but Mama Beth was gullible and loving, an easy target. She’d worked hard and lived simply to save her nest egg, and he wasn’t about to sit back while some long-lost niece took advantage of her kindness.
He hefted a sigh and scooted his chair close to the desk. He’d just returned to work when Wanda poked her head around the door. “You coming out for lunch, or are you going to sit here and sulk?” Her nasal voice sliced the air.
Steve mustered a smile and continued to jot a reminder on a sticky note. “Want to grab a bite at Granny’s?”
“Sorry, can’t. Got a beauty shop appointment with Jolene.”
A shiver raced down his backbone. Jolene Briscoe, the town hairstylist and busybody, married at least four times, now had her sights aimed at him. No thanks. If he needed a trim, he’d drive to Morganville. Besides, what kind of man wanted his hair cut at a place called Country Cutz and Curlz?
Wanda gave him the once-over through narrowed eyes. “If you ask me, you could use a trim yourself. Want me to make you an appointment?”
“No.” Definitely not. He rose to his feet and shuffled the papers on his desk. Time for his escape. His lunch buddies might be able to help him come up with a plan for Miller’s Creek. “I’m going to meet the old geezers for lunch at Granny’s. After that I’ll be at the ranch.”
The sun on his face refreshed him and made him eager to get to the ranch to spend the rest of the day outside. There was always plenty to do this time of year between plowing, planting, and the calves and colts. Steve whistled as he made the short walk to Granny’s Kitchen, operated by elderly identical twin sisters. Opal and Pearl Atwood were now affectionately known as the Grannies since no one in town could tell them apart. He entered the door to the tantalizing smell of southern-fried cooking, his mouth watering, and scanned the crowded room.
Lots of buzz already going on. As the town’s only sit-down restaurant, Granny’s ranked right behind Country Cutz & Curlz as the best place for gossip. If you didn’t count B & B Hardware, that is. He waved, shook hands, and said his “hellos,” as he made his way to the usual table at the back.
“Well, look who’s here.” Coot Sanders’ voice blasted like a braying donkey in a tin barn. “The mayor finally arrived so we can ask him about that suit he was walking around town with this morning.”
Steve sent him a dark
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