No Place Like Home. Debra Clopton
“Would you like some help getting it down?”
Dottie halted her foraging. He really needed to go. She was enjoying their conversation a little more than she wanted to. Okay, a whole lot more than she wanted to.
But she did need help. “The ladder is on the back.”
He grinned. “No kidding.”
“Sorry, I guess that would be the obvious place for it to be.”
“Yuuup,” he said with an exaggerated Texas twang.
He was still grinning at her when she looked up at him and their eyes locked. And she could almost hear thunder.
Chemistry!
“I’ll be right down,” he said, his penetrating gaze roaming her face before locking with her eyes again. He grabbed the metal ladder. It looked flimsy beneath his hands.
“Maybe I should go up,” she said, sitting down her bag of bunnies on the bumper and making a move to grab the rungs. Their hands touched briefly and the tension that she’d been trying to ignore zinged to life.
Chemistry! The obnoxious little voice in her head shouted. The voice she’d squish like a Gummi Bunny if she could get hold of it for all of its bouncing back and forth.
“No way are you going up there,” he was saying. “Not while I’m around.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and moved her to the side. “You wait right there.”
Looking like a man who could handle anything, especially an itty-bitty bit of furniture on top of an RV, he climbed up the ladder and stepped onto the roof.
“I used to watch reruns of Trapper John M.D. when I was a kid and they used to climb on top of Gonzo’s RV all the time, but this sure feels shaky.”
That’s putting it mildly, she thought, thinking about how she felt watching him. “There were three of us up there when we packed it up,” she said, finding her voice.
“Then I’ll have to trust you on that.” He took a careful step toward the chaotic pile, then crouched down to loosen the ties.
Dottie watched, unable to not be interested. The man was just too cute when he concentrated. She squinted up at him in the morning sunlight and decided that he could take his time. She was just fine with the view.
He was pulling the rope from the racks when she caught a flash of pink in her peripheral vision. Turning, she saw a pink convertible Caddy bouncing and weaving across the pasture. The smiling blonde behind the wheel was waving one hand above her head and steering with the other as she brought the car to an abrupt halt.
“I heard you were here! Hello, hello, helllooo,” she laughed, vaulting out of the car and wrapping Dottie in a bear hug. Tightly. “I’d have come last night but I couldn’t…we got tied up delivering the cutest little baby calf you ever laid your eyes on. But I told Clint, first thing this morning I was jumping in the Caddy and zooming right on over here to see about these two gals who decided to check out our little town. I’m hoping you’re going to stay awhile. How are you? Did they get you set up good? Do you need anything?”
The woman paused her chattering, released Dottie and took a step back, hand extended. Dottie took it, staggered by the exuberant greeting. Thankful she hadn’t had a Gummi Bunny in her mouth. She’d probably choke on it.
“Lacy Brown,” the woman started again, then laughed, holding up her left hand and wiggling her wedding-banded finger. “I do that all the time. Lacy Matlock would be my name.”
Lacy giggled and Dottie joined her, breaking her daze. She got the impression that around Lacy, laughter would be unending.
“Lacy, this is Dottie Hart,” Brady said. “Dottie, Lacy has the tendency to talk a person to death if one isn’t careful to escape when given the chance.”
“So, Dottie, I hear Brady rescued you yesterday. That’s our sheriff. Always rescuing someone. Never to be rescued himself.”
“You can go home now, Lacy,” Brady called down.
“Hey, no need to get mean.”
“I just thought Clint might be missing you. That’s all I meant.”
“Uh-huh. And my hair is straight as a board.”
Dottie looked at Lacy’s nearly white hair sticking from her yellow hat in wild loose curls.
“I think he’s pulling your leg,” she said.
“You think?” Lacy asked, plopping a hand to her jutting hip.
“Has to be, because your hair is most definitely not straight.”
Lacy chuckled. “I like you.”
Dottie liked her, too. Who wouldn’t? No wonder the town looked like it did with all its crayon colors. Lacy Matlock epitomized the phrase “colorful character.”
“Ahh-hemmm.”
Dottie looked up to see Brady holding a wicker chair over the edge of the RV for someone to take. “You girls going to stand there bonding all day, or are you going to give a poor fellow a helping hand.”
Dottie looked at Lacy. “I guess we should help him.”
“If you say so,” Lacy sighed. “But I’m all for leaving him up there when we finish and us girls hanging out for a while.”
Dottie agreed, then reached to take the chair and almost dropped it when Brady winked at her.
“I saw that, Brady Cannon,” Lacy said.
Dottie knew she was pinker than the Caddy sitting behind her. A wink. What was that all about? He’d done the same thing in the diner, but she’d ignored it. But this time…she realized he was smiling down at her, almost laughing.
The man was playing with her, which she could take. The trouble was Lacy Brown-Matlock!
She’d witnessed the wink and she was smiling. Big.
And Dottie wasn’t sure what, exactly, that smile meant…
Drawn by the pink Caddy, Cassie came running. Lacy made an instant friend by offering her a spin in her retro car. With the top down. Dottie had visions of Cassie coming back with her hair standing out like a rock star’s.
“Those two will get along like peanut butter and jelly,” Brady said, coming to stand beside her as she watched them driving off. Their arms touched and Dottie stepped away, startled at the sudden warm contact.
“I hope so,” she said. “Cassie’s going to need a friend.”
“Hey, she’s going to be fine. As a matter of fact, the morning’s gotten away from me, so I’m going to head to the office and start sending out some feelers. I’ll let you know the minute I hear something.”
“Thank you, that would be great,” she said, almost forgiving him for the wink and the turmoil he caused her. “Who is that?” she asked, nodding toward the three ladies drawing close across the stretch of grass.
Brady glanced in their direction and smiled, watching their approach. “That’s the heart of Mule Hollow. See you later. Hello, ladies, this is Dottie Hart,” he said, meeting them as he left. “Go easy on her, her RV’s broke down and she has no escape.” With that, he turned back toward her, tipped his hat at her, winked again and strode away.
Watching him leave, Dottie couldn’t help thinking that George Strait had nothing on Brady Cannon. Brady’s swagger was just as good as any cowboy she’d ever seen…George included.
“He’s a cute one, our sheriff,” the short lady with the curly gray hair said, crossing her arms and watching him walk away.
Dottie realized what she’d been doing and turned to the ladies. “Yes, he’s extremely helpful.”
“We