Книга - No Place Like Home

No Place Like Home
Debra Clopton


When her ancient RV caught fire, candy maker Dottie Hart was stranded in Mule Hollow.So much for her promise to help her brother with his women's shelter. She would never make it to California now! Help arrived in the nick of time, in the shape of handsome sheriff Brady Cannon. And though Dottie made it clear she was just passing through, the local matchmakers had another agenda.No single woman had yet encountered them without leaving happily married a sticky situation for the lovely confectioner. Perhaps Brady could convince her that love was its own sweet reward .









“You impress me as a person who can do anything she sets her mind to,” Brady said.


To his surprise Dottie shook her head, and her eyes misted with tears.

“Only by the grace of God.” She blinked away the tears. “God’s faithful. He can take the worst of times and make something good.”

Brady was in trouble. He knew it the moment she smiled at him again.

He knew the moment she lifted her eyes to the sky and winked, like she and God had a secret. It was as if she were defying the tears and the anger to grasp the joy.

Oh, yeah, Brady was in trouble all right, because although he’d only known Dottie Hart for less than thirty minutes, he knew he wanted in on her secret.




DEBRA CLOPTON


was a 2004 Golden Heart finalist in the inspirational category. No Place Like Home is her third novel with Love Inspired. She makes her home in Texas with her family.




No Place Like Home


Debra Clopton







Never lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord.

—Romans 12:11


This book is dedicated to my mom and dad, Myra and Willie Patrick. I would have chosen you above all others. What a blessing you are to me.

And to my father-in-law, Walter Clopton, and his wife, Nancy, my friend. I love you both dearly.

And last but certainly not least, this book is dedicated with great respect and appreciation to all the rescue workers across the country. But especially to the Madisonville, Texas, Volunteer Fire Department and all the men and women who make up our wonderful skilled and dedicated rescue team, my sister Cathy Patrick included. You are heroes. May God bless you all!




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Letter to Reader

Questions for Discussion




Chapter One


Glancing at the lone figure standing in the reflection of her side mirror, Dottie Hart stomped hard on the brake and wrangled her prehistoric motor home to a groaning halt.

What in the world is that kid thinking?

In less than a shake and a wiggle Dottie was out the door watching the girl jog toward her along the shoulder of the hectic highway. The world was full of crazed people just waiting for the opportunity to snatch up a girl like that…and here she was hitchhiking!

Well, it wasn’t happening today, because Dottie’s new prayer each morning was for the Lord to use her any way He chose. Looked like today He’d put this girl in her pathway.

“Hey, thanks for stopping,” the girl said, dropping her bag with a thud at Dottie’s feet.

She looked to be in her late teens, maybe even twenty, older than Dottie had first thought, but still too young to be hitchhiking…no one was old enough to do that!

“Don’t thank me. Thank the Lord,” Dottie said. “He’s the one watching your back today.” Thank You, Father. Thank You so much for putting me in her pathway.

The teen lifted her chin defiantly, eyebrows knitted together. “Oh, brother! You aren’t one of those wacko people who go around picking up hitchhikers just so you can cram that religion stuff down their throats, are you?”

Dottie shook her head. “Do I look that brave? I just thought I’d mention why I decided to give you a lift.”

The girl relaxed a bit but still looked wary. “Okay, I’ll accept the lift ’cause I need it. Just don’t get carried away with the God stuff. Me and the big guy aren’t getting along so well right now.”

Dottie studied the teen. “That’s too bad. Here, let me help you carry that thing.”

“Hey, hey!” The girl jerked her bag away when Dottie reached for it. “I carry my own bags, lady. You may have wheels but I’ve got backbone. And I gotta tell you, by the look of your wheels, my backbone’s looking like it’s the winner. How old is this thing anyway?”

“Hey! Watch what you say about my rig!” Dottie patted the side of her RV. “It’s ugly, sure, but this baby’s gonna get us where we need to go long before it wheezes its last breath.” Walking to the cabin door, she opened it then glanced over her shoulder. “If you’re still up for a ride, chuck that bag inside and let’s hit the road.”

Climbing back into her faithful RV, Dottie tried to calm the jitters threatening to set in. Tried to reassure herself that it was going to be fine.

You’ve really picked up a hitchhiker!

True, but calm down, she told herself. There were no hoodlums hiding in the bushes, using the girl as a front. She didn’t appear to be a teenage ax murderer, so everything was going to be okay. Really.

A woman had to take a risk every once in a while, didn’t she? On the other hand, if she truly believed God put people in a person’s life for a reason, then this was no accident—and she did believe that with all her heart.

God had given her a second chance at life and she’d made a promise that she was bound and determined to follow through with it. This was a test.

Not that she was an advocate for a woman traveling alone to pick up strangers off the side of the road. She’d never done anything like this before. And when her brother learned what she’d done he might skin her alive, but it felt right. And that was good enough for Dottie.

For goodness’ sake, she was about to start working at a women’s shelter—a home for women at risk. How could she live with herself if she passed one on the side of the road and didn’t help her!

She couldn’t. And that was that. Decision made—case closed. So relax.

Grabbing the big plastic bag of Gummi Bunnies off the dashboard, she held it out. “Want a handful?”

“Sure,” the girl said, slamming the passenger’s door closed and reaching for the bag.

Watching her dig into the candy, Dottie relaxed even further. True, she was supposed to be back in California as quickly as possible, time was of the essence, but this girl had obviously needed a friend.

“There’s drinks in the fridge if you need something. And real food.” Biting back any other reservations, she smiled. “I’m Dottie Hart,” she offered, meeting the girl’s hazel eyes that were similar to her own.

“I’m Cassie Bates,” she said, nibbling a mouthful of the chewy little bunnies from her open palm. “I’m on my way to Mule Hollow—where the men grow tall and the women aren’t at all.”

“Do what?” Dottie laughed, digging out a handful of candy for herself. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Cassie gaped at her. “You know, love is in the hair and the air!” She sang the line.

All the while Dottie stared. Okay—so maybe something was loose and it wasn’t Dottie’s screws.

“You really don’t know what I’m talking about?”

The silent “Duh!” at the end of Cassie’s question hung in the air between them.

“Not a clue.” But she was curious. Extremely curious.

Cassie dug in her back pocket and pulled out a bundle of newspaper clippings and waved them. Neatly cut and folded in a half-inch-thick bundle, the clippings were very organized.

“This is Mule Hollow, Texas. The tiny town way out here in the middle of nowhere that advertised for women who want to get married, move there and live happily ever after.”

Oh, brother. Dottie had heard it all now. “You’re saying they, this town, is advertising for women to come marry the local men.”

“Yes. Are you deaf? It’s all right here in Molly Popp’s column.” She waved the clippings.

“Who is Molly Popp?”

“Molly Popp?” Another duh. “She writes this really cool article every week about what’s happening in Mule Hollow. Everybody’s following the stories. Where have you been? The moon?”

If she only knew, Dottie thought. “Let’s just say I haven’t had much time for reading. Who would think up something so outlandish? Are you sure it’s a real story and not some promotional gimmick made up to hook readers?”

“Oh, it’s real. And I’m going there to change my life.”

Now, that was something Dottie could connect with. “And how are you going to do that?”

“I’m going to find me a husband.”

“You can’t just go into a town and pick a husband out like he was a shirt waiting to be bought off the rack.”

“Says who? You should read these articles.” Another wave of newspaper clippings. “These are nice guys. Guys who know how to treat a woman and want to get married. And stay married.”

Dottie could not believe her ears. But obviously Cassie was determined to do this, this…harebrained thing, so what exactly did that mean? She took a breath.

Okay, Lord, what’s the plan?

She knew the answer before she asked the question. She’d committed to the task the minute she pulled onto the shoulder, actually the minute she prayed that morning for the Lord to use her today. Her granddad always said, never ask the Lord to put someone in your path unless you mean business. The good Lord would take you up on the offer every time…

But taking a detour? Going to some really weird little town out in the middle of nowhere—a town that advertised for wives! Now, that just wasn’t a blip on her screen of possible scenarios.

However, even being alive, sitting here being allowed the opportunity to even consider such a scenario was a gift…

She’d missed three months of her life lying in a hospital bed on the verge of death. Three months. She closed her eyes, willed away the panic that still sought to overpower her just thinking about the dark hours that led up to her stay in that hospital bed—as always thoughts of that time practically caused her to hyperventilate. She willed away the visible signs of her ordeal, calling on the Lord, as always, for help. This was no time to scare her passenger.

It was true, she had much to overcome. But she had more to celebrate. God had saved her! He’d performed nothing less than a miracle in keeping her alive through the hurricane that had devastated her home and tried to destroy her life. After a person spent almost three days trapped in a dark hole crushed beneath her home, her life seeping away with every moment that passed, there was nothing less she could do than try and repay God’s faithfulness.

The payment for that debt waited for her in California. She was needed there in a desperate way—Cassie Bates, with her weird agenda, hadn’t been in the equation. And yet, God had crossed their paths. Cassie needed a friend. Someone to watch over her, to get her to a safe place and to make certain that she was going to be all right.

How could Dottie pass her by? God had sent a special task force of heroes to dig her from the cold, wet depths of a lonely would-be grave. He’d put her in their path and now He’d put Cassie in her path. She had to accept the call.

It might still be California or bust, but she could take a little detour. Anticipation rippled through her. God worked in mysterious ways…

“So,” she said, drawing Cassie’s bright gaze. “Exactly how do we get to this Mule Hollow?”



Sheriff Brady Cannon stood inside Pete’s Feed and Seed looking out the window at Mule Hollow’s deserted street and the late-afternoon shadows creeping across the blacktop. The bedraggled motor home that turned the corner onto Main Street almost caused him to choke on a sunflower seed.

The thing was about twenty years old, its front grille warped, giving an impression of a crooked grin as it carried its cargo. Cargo was tied down at precariously odd angles on top of the comical-looking thing. There was white wicker furniture and other stuff he couldn’t quite make out bulging from the roof in wild disarray. A mental picture of a cartoon character moving cross-country sprang to mind.

Watching the funny-looking RV amble along he was a little surprised to see a vendor this early. The first annual Mule Hollow Trade Days event didn’t start for four days yet. Which meant his headaches wouldn’t start for four short days either, days he wasn’t taking for granted. Early birds weren’t exactly his idea of a good thing.

When the pitiful RV suddenly wheezed and smoke erupted from under the hood, it was as if the animation had come to life! “Oh boy, let the games begin,” he groaned.

Reacting on instinct, he tossed his handful of sunflower seeds into the garbage, grabbed Pete’s fire extinguisher from beside the counter and hit the door at a run.

Black smoke billowed from beneath the hood as he concentrated on the hot latch, coughing from the fumes as they engulfed him. When the latch finally gave and he lifted the reluctant hood, he was forced to jump back to avoid the shooting flames filling the compartment. Thankfully, Pete’s extinguisher was primed and ready and he had the fire out within seconds.

Not that it saved the motor—it was toast.

“Oh no!”

At the gasp, he spun around to find a thin woman with raven-black hair and pale hazel eyes. Stricken by the sight of the steaming engine she swayed—Brady dropped the extinguisher and grabbed her just as her legs buckled. He was struck by her lightness, again by her paleness as he swept her into his arms. By the way her delicate cheekbones were starkly pronounced by the thinness of her face. She didn’t look exactly well. As he studied her, her eyes fluttered, she bit her lip and he could almost see sheer willpower forcing her eyelids to remain open.

“Dottie, are you okay?” a teenage girl exclaimed, concern written all over her impish face as she danced from foot to foot.

“Fine. I’m fine,” she assured the girl.

Brady disagreed completely with her assessment of the situation. “Miss, you don’t look so good. I think—”

“I’m fine. Really, you can put me down now.”

The strength in her words and the determination he could see in her eyes had him doing as he was instructed. “It’s your call.” Carefully he set her on her feet, glad when she didn’t sway again. A bit of color crept into her cheeks, but she remained fairly pale, although he could see that there was a tinge of tan overlaying her paleness.

“I’m Dottie.” She extended her delicate hand and smiled engagingly. “Dottie Hart. I’m sorry for my…well, for that.” She rolled her eyes and waved her hand as if shooing the episode away.

Obviously Dottie Hart did not enjoy being fragile. She looked embarrassed by the show of weakness.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” he said. “But I hate to tell you that your motor doesn’t look good.”

Her lips flattened into a straight line.

“By the way, I’m Brady Cannon.”

Her gaze shifted from the RV to him. “Sheriff Cannon,” she said, her gaze dropping to the badge pinned to his white shirt.

Her voice was smooth, with an edge of softness to it. And her eyes… “Actually, everyone calls me Brady.”

She nodded but didn’t smile. Her gaze swept back to the engine. “Thank you for putting out the fire. Is there a mechanic in Mule Hollow who could get me moving again?”

She looked back at him with her question. Two vertical lines formed between her eyebrows. He could almost see her mind turning as she concentrated on her problem.

“We have a mechanic, but I hate to tell you that he’s out of town at the moment. He had a family emergency that needed tending to. But he’s due back next week. A mechanic might not be able to fix your engine, though.”

“Well.” She compressed her lips, glanced toward the young girl, then met his eyes straight on. “We’ll see.” She took a deep breath, visibly making a decision. “I planned to stay a few days anyway.”

“That’s what I thought. Looks like you’re the first one here. We can go ahead and get you all set up, and then Prudy can come by and check the motor over at the site when he gets back to town on Monday. I’ll get a few of the boys to help me with your rig and we’ll get it to a spot—”

“Hey, Dottie, here it is,” the teen yelled, interrupting him. She was waving excitedly from across the street where she’d trotted while they were talking.

Dottie smiled, turning slightly toward the girl. Brady’s gaze snagged on her smile, captivated by it and the measureless depth of her gaze. There was something about the way she watched things.

“Just look at it, Dottie,” Cassie exclaimed.

“What,” Dottie laughed, and even in the dying light her eyes twinkled like sunlight reflecting off cool water.

Brady knew the it was the hot-pink salon the kid was standing in front of.

“It’s Lacy Brown’s Heavenly Inspirations,” she called. “It’s just like in the articles.”

She plastered her face to the glass and peered into the window like a two-year-old. It was a now-familiar sight to Brady and the other Mule Hollow residents. Over the last few months when women came to town after hours and Lacy had gone home for the night, there was much peering through the glass. The ads had started it, but Molly’s articles about Lacy and Mule Hollow had garnered widespread fame. It was bafflement to him and most days a headache.

“She really loves this place.” Dottie turned to him.

“Mule Hollow and Lacy’s place seem to have that effect on some people. The residents are banking on it. Just wait until this weekend when everyone starts getting here. There’ll be more smears on that window than just Cassie’s.”

“I noticed you said I was the first. It sounds like you’re expecting a lot of people this weekend?”

Brady chuckled and stuck a hand in his back pocket. “You could say that. I’ve become a believer, and when the ladies say there will be a crowd, I trust that they know what they’re talking about. Hang on—I’ll get somebody out here to help get you off the road and set up. We weren’t expecting anybody until the day after tomorrow, but this’ll work. You just sit tight and I’ll be right back.”

Dottie watched the good sheriff stride away. She’d nearly passed out! She hated when that happened. And in front of the sheriff—the totally breathtaking, giant of a man—

“Where’s the sheriff going?” Cassie asked, jogging up beside her. Her energy reminded Dottie of her own before the accident. Oh, how she missed the health she’d so taken for granted. Watching Cassie, she was all the more determined to regain every bit of herself that she’d had before the accident. She was twenty-eight years old and used to love jogging every day. She just needed to be patient and keep up her workouts and she’d grow strong again.

“Yoo-hoo, anybody in there?” Cassie waved her hand in front of Dottie’s eyes, jolting her back to the present.

“Sorry,” she said. “He went to get help to move us off the street.”

Cassie spun around and stared after Brady. “Do you think he’s going to get some hunky cowboys? That’d be great. Really great.”

Looking at the open adulation beaming from Cassie’s eyes, Dottie felt it was probably best to try and rein her in a bit.

“Cassie, maybe it would be good if you didn’t throw yourself at these guys.”

Her eyes widened. “Who’s throwing themselves? Anyway, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Right? Wow! Would ya look at that!”

A huge black truck was lumbering around the corner, efficiently cutting off Dottie’s thoughts. The thing was, like, five feet off the ground with bumpers the size of a cattle guard and big ol’ lights sticking up on top of the cab like bulging frog eyes. My oh my—it’s a monster! Wow…she was as poleaxed by it as Cassie.

And that was saying something, because Cassie went speechless gaping at the thing.

When the driver hopped to the ground Cassie took a step back and studied at the young man. He was dressed in rumpled jeans, boots and a weathered T-shirt. He’d hopped from behind the steering wheel looking like a guy ready to take on any adventure that came his way. He looked like he was ready to have a good time.

Then Sheriff Brady stepped down from the passenger’s seat, looking every bit the man ready to take charge of this little misadventure. Dottie had to fight her own impulse to step back and gasp. The man was breathtaking. It was enough to make a girl on a mission that was far, far away from Mule Hollow sick to her fluttering stomach. Get a grip, girl.

She shook herself mentally at her ridiculous reaction and focused on the younger man. Ignore the sheriff. She didn’t need the distraction.

The cowboy tipped his hat at her and then at Cassie at whom he also flashed a one-hundred-watt, crooked smile. “Looks like y’all could use a hand. Give me a sec and I’ll have you ladies set up.”

He began pulling chains from the bed of his truck and then practically dived beneath the front of Dottie’s motor home. Not before she saw him sneak another look at Cassie, who was catching flies with her open mouth.

The sheriff sauntered over and stood next to Dottie and she had to fight the urge to walk away. She wasn’t a rude person and it bothered her, this odd rankling of her nerves. “He knows what he’s doing, doesn’t he?” she asked, dismayed that it sounded as if she was questioning his good sense.

“Jake can pull anything out of anywhere.”

“How does he know how to do that?” The moment the question was out she wanted it back. Why, the sheriff looked at her like she’d lost her mind!

“He’s not much more than a kid,” he said in an even tone, hiding laughter. He might have tried to hide it but she could see it. His lips were positively quivering. And his eyes had crinkled at the edges.

“And don’t you see the size of the wheels on that truck,” he continued. “Jake and his friends spend the better part of every other night mudding across half this county. Believe me when I say he can pull anything.”

Well, yes, she could see all of that. But still—

“That should do it.” Jake scooted from beneath her vehicle, sprang to his feet and walked jauntily over and attached the chain to the ball of his truck. Dottie heard an audible sigh from Cassie as he hurried to the RV’s open door, leaned in and adjusted the gearshift. By the time he slammed the door and jogged back toward them, Dottie had forgotten her trepidations and was on board with the whole “he can pull anything” campaign. He certainly seemed competent.

“Can I give you a lift over to the site?” he asked.

“Yeah! I mean, sure!” Cassie gushed.

Miss Tough Girl had turned into a breathless shambles. Dottie nearly fell over when the girl practically skipped to the huge truck and hoisted herself up into the high seat!

And then, just like that, Dottie found herself alone with Sheriff Brady. Not at all a situation she was comfortable with.

“Shall we?” he drawled, sweeping his hand to follow the truck.

Dottie hesitated in the dying light, then fell into step beside him.

Dark was nearly upon them as they walked down the road together. Through the shadows she stole a glance at the handsome man. He overpowered everything around him…including her good sense. He made her aware of every step they took. And she didn’t like it. Not one bit!

Out of nowhere her heart trembled and sparked. No! She almost tripped in her surprise—

“Are you okay?” he asked, cupping her elbow to steady her.

“F-fine,” she stuttered, pulling away. This was not good. She was here in this adorable town because of Cassie. Cassie was the one window-shopping for a man. As for her, Dottie Marie “Fickle” Hart, her life was complicated.

She gave the sheriff her best nonchalant glance. It didn’t matter how good-looking a man he was, or how crazy her pulse was jigging at his nearness. It didn’t matter how kind he appeared to be. And it truly, certainly didn’t matter if he made her feel as weak on the inside as her body felt on the outside.

Sheriff Brady Cannon seemed like a great guy, who had no wedding ring on his finger. But none of these facts mattered. And that was the way it would remain. She had an agenda that left no room for infatuations of the personal kind.

Period. She wasn’t that fickle.

She had an agenda of the heavenly sort, a payback for a life changed. And that thought was all it took to get her head on straight again.



Too late, Brady realized he hadn’t been thinking straight when he’d suggested they walk. Dottie seemed a little unsteady. She was obviously weak, a woman didn’t pass out without a reason. What a buffoon he was! And now here they were, walking along and she was limping—stumbling even, and trying hard to hide it. He slowed his pace to match hers, causing her to glance at him, her eyes wide.

“I needed the exercise,” she blurted out as if reading his mind, as if not wanting to admit a weakness. Her words were breathless. “I, well…I get a little stove up when I ride long distances all at once.”

He nodded, noticing how she moved away from him. “You came far?” He glanced at her, curious about her but trying not to be intrusive, a hard thing for a cop.

She nodded but didn’t look at him. “Yes.”

Single-word answers were not what he was looking for. Though his beat was different here in his tiny hometown, his previous life as a cop on the streets of Houston still imprinted everything he did. He wanted details and suddenly he was full of questions. “How far? Where are you from?” Smooth, Brady.

“I started out in Florida five days ago.”

“Ouch! That is a long way.”

“Oh, yes, but most people would’ve made it here in three days. I hurt my hip in an accident and can only travel so far before I’m forced to stop for the day. That is if I want to be able to move the next day.”

“What kind of accident?” What are you doing, Brady?

She locked her arms and looked into the distance, as if she really didn’t want to elaborate, then focused back on him. “I was bullheaded enough to think I could protect my home from a hurricane.”

“Ohhh.”

She grimaced. “Sounds stupid, I know, believe me, and the house collapsed on me, despite my personal efforts at holding it up under category-three winds.”

He could tell, though she gave a quick smile, there was nothing funny about her ordeal. However, he knew only too well in his line of work that sometimes humor took the edge off.

“I spent three months in the hospital. I was a mess. Not a vacation I’d recommend at all, as you can imagine. I spent several months rehabilitating. I’m doing great, considering everything. I can’t run a marathon yet, though.”

She met his gaze, her expression blank and unreadable but entirely captivating with the intensity of her words. How much pain and suffering must she have endured? It was obvious Dottie still hurt. He could see it. As a cop he’d learned to read people pretty well. And Dottie was a book that had to be read slowly. Carefully.

“But I will.” She smiled.

He stopped. They’d made the fifty-yard walk to the corner. Though she hadn’t voiced any of it, he had a vivid picture of this fragile woman in pain unlike any he’d ever experienced. Looking into her eyes, he searched harder this time. He glimpsed a shadow of…anger, despite the smile. He’d seen it before…but suddenly he wondered if she even knew it was there. “I bet you will,” he said. “You impress me as a person who can do anything she sets her mind to.”

To his surprise she shook her head, and her eyes misted with tears.

“Only by the grace of God.” She lifted her chin and blinked away the mist. “You can’t imagine how many times I felt like quitting. But that verse! It kept popping into my head, forcing me on, reminding me that God was there, right beside me. The truth is—until I was so low I couldn’t get any lower, I never really understood that I can really do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Her earnest expression melted into another smile. “That’s what got me through grueling rehab, through days that I couldn’t take on my own. God’s faithful. He can take the worst of times and make something good. If we let Him.”

Brady was in trouble.

He knew it the moment she smiled at him again.

He knew the moment she lifted her eyes to the sky and winked, like she and God had a secret. It was as if she was defying the tears and the anger to grasp the joy.

Oh yeah, Brady was in trouble all right, because although he’d only known Dottie Hart for less than thirty minutes, he knew he wanted in on her secret.




Chapter Two


Mule Hollow was getting ready for a pretty big day. Even in the dusky light Dottie could see there were spots sectioned off in the field for booths and trailers. They’d even set up electrical services for vendors, which she wasn’t. But how coincidental that she was both a baker and a candy maker on her way to California, who just happened to find Cassie on the side of the road, which brought her to Mule Hollow where her motor home happened to die. She smiled, reminded of the song about the old woman who swallowed the fly.

It had dawned on her just now talking to Sheriff Brady—Mule Hollow seemed like a safe place to be stranded. God had protected her. Even before she knew she needed protecting. How sweet was that?

He’d even given her a way of saving her money for California. At least most of it. Instead of dipping into her bank account she now had a way to pay for the repairs to her RV…she could make and sell some simple candy and baked goods over the weekend and have a little extra money to help pay the mechanic. She wouldn’t have to tap into her insurance.

Everything was fine, except for the time factor. But that was what had her winking toward heaven a moment ago. She was on God’s time schedule, so she was going to try and relax. Try not to worry. Really…why should she? She’d prayed for a safe trip to California—never had she envisioned God would take her a hundred miles out of her way to get her there safely. But the reality was that if she’d been on the highway when the engine burst into flames—she hated to think about it. For one, she may not have been able to stop the fire; two, she’d have become a hitchhiker herself.

And three, she might have lost everything.

Again.

Not that much meant anything to her anyway. When a person lay dying beneath all her worldly stuff, stuff accumulated over a lifetime, it changed a person’s perspective. But she had to admit that her RV mattered to her. It had belonged to her granddad and there was a host of memories inside the poor-looking thing.

Besides, it had been beat up and banged up during the same storm that beat her up…she and her prehistoric monstrosity were survivors.

Sheriff Brady pushed his hat back a bit and looked down at her, and she realized with a start that he’d said something. He probably thought she was crazy since not everyone winked at heaven and grinned like a goofball.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” she asked, focusing on him.

“I said, the rest of the vendors will start trickling in tomorrow afternoon, but the actual event won’t start until Friday.” He paused, touching her shoulder with his finger, halting her. “Are you okay?”

His touch was gentle and Dottie tried to ignore the warmth that seemed to radiate from it. “Yes, I get kinda weird sometimes, thinking about how good God is, that’s all.”

He smiled. “I have to say I’ve never seen anyone wink at God.”

“Get outta here.” Dottie shoved his arm. “You’re telling me you never winked at God.”

He laughed. “I’d have to say that’d be an affirmative. But it was cute.”

She laughed and their gazes locked.

The laugh died in her throat. His face was shadowed, his eyes shimmered, in the disappearing light. Suddenly it felt like a pebble dance across her stomach, instantly sending ripples radiating through her solar plexus. Oh my!

“L-look,” she managed to say. “I have to explain something.”

“What’s that?” He dropped his chin and raised an eyebrow.

What in the world was happening to her? She was tired—it had been a long, a very long, hard day. “I didn’t come here to be a vendor in the trade show.” She rattled out the words so fast that he stepped back, head cocked back a notch.

“You didn’t?” He looked over his shoulder at the motor home being set up in the vending spot. The motor home that looked exactly like it wasn’t out of place in a setting like this.

“Actually…” She snapped the words out. Ignoring—well, trying to focus on what had brought her here in the first place. “I picked Cassie up on the road. She was hitchhiking about a hundred miles away. I just couldn’t stand seeing that young girl out there on the road, so I broke my ‘no hitchhiker’ rule.” She made quotation marks in the air with her fingers. “I picked her up. When she started telling me where she was going I couldn’t just drop her off somewhere along the way and hope someone else brought her safely here—I had to bring her.”

Brady removed his Stetson and scrubbed his hand through his short brown hair.

And Dottie, drat her fickle brain, forgot everything for a moment. The man was gorgeous—even with the hat crease running across his forehead.

“You’re telling me you went a hundred miles out of your way to bring a hitchhiker to Mule Hollow?”

She nodded, hearing the disbelief edging his words, understanding it completely. It was her reaction to him that she didn’t have a clue about! “Not any hitchhiker. Cassie. Oh, wait—is hitchhiking against the law?”

The corners of Brady’s lips curved engagingly and her stomach did a double backflip!

“Nope. Least not the last time I checked. Though it could possibly be bad for your health.”

“Funny.” She scrunched her face at him before she could stop herself. “I didn’t want to get Cassie in trouble,” she continued, regaining some composure. “I can’t help feeling like I need to watch out for her. She knows everything about this town and has talked nonstop all the way here about finding herself a husband. It’s like she’s obsessed with getting a husband and getting him yesterday.”

“She wouldn’t be the first woman looking for a husband—hold on just a minute. How old is she?”

“Bingo! I honestly don’t know. I thought she was really young, too, but I don’t think she’s as young as I first believed. She wouldn’t tell me earlier when I asked, claiming a lady doesn’t tell her age.”

He was instantly all law enforcement. A gleam lit his eyes and she could very nearly see his brain rolling. “I think I need to do some checking on Cassie. She could be in some kind of trouble.”

“Please do, and thank you. Only, I don’t want to scare her. I don’t think it would be a good idea to let her know you’re checking into her background. Is that possible? If she’s a runaway she might get scared and run again if she’s spooked.”

“I agree,” he answered. “It’s a good thing you’re going to be around for a while to keep an eye on her.”

Dottie couldn’t agree more. She’d have to talk to her brother Todd, let him know what was going on. Once he heard all the facts, he’d agree that looking out for Cassie was important. There wasn’t too much she could do at the moment anyway in California, at least nothing until they heard whether they were going to keep the lease…she said a quick prayer that God would step in and save No Place Like Home. It was inconceivable to think that a place that was doing such wonderful work would have so many sudden problems. She forced away the worry, certain everything would be okay. God was taking care of her, surely He would take care of the women’s shelter.



“Did you ever in your entire life see such a dreamy guy?” Cassie paused, filling her glass with water, and sighed.

Plumping her houseguest’s pillow, Dottie tossed it up onto the bed above the RV’s driving compartment, then picked up another one. Cassie had been beaming ever since Jake had driven up to help them. Dottie fully expected to see the girl float to her bunk at any moment.

A far cry from the hard-edged kid she’d picked up on the highway.

Dottie paused, mid-plump. “He’s a dreamboat. But, Cassie, he can’t be much more than twenty.” It was a weak argument but all she had to try and slow Cassie down.

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“Well, nothing. He just seemed…well, young.” Dottie felt older than her twenty-eight years looking into Cassie’s youthful face as she plopped into the table booth, and stared up at her, her chin in hand. Her bright gaze sent Dottie to check her cupboard. She really was uncomfortable giving advice, and she…well, she needed to see what supplies she had so she could start baking in the morning.

No, she needed to try and talk some sense into Cassie.

“How old are you, Dottie?”

“Hey, you’re the girl who wouldn’t tell me her age earlier this afternoon. Remember?”

“Well, that was before I knew you. Before I trusted you.”

Trust.

Dottie’s stomach soured thinking about how Brady was going to check on Cassie’s background. Trust. “I’m twenty-eight. How old are you?”

“I’m really nineteen. Really. I know, I know, I don’t look it. I hate people telling me I look younger. But if you look at me really close you can tell I’m not sixteen. Look, I have crow’s-feet.”

Dottie busted out laughing, turning toward her just in time to see Cassie pointing at the edges of her eyes. “Oh, brother!” True, she did look nineteen on second glance. Maybe. Once more she wondered about Cassie’s background.

“Okay, you look nineteen, sort of. Don’t you think that’s a bit young to be so gung-ho about finding a husband right away? You do know that you need to fall in love.”

“Hey, I want a husband and I’m gonna get one. I’ll fall in love, but it’s about…never mind. I’m too tired to think straight. What are you cooking tomorrow? Can I help?”

“Can you help?” Cassie had effectively changed the subject and Dottie let it slide. Tackling the subject of husband hunting with her was going to require alertness and at the moment she was worn out. “Aren’t you the one who got me into this fix?”

Cassie chuckled. “That’d be me.”

“Then, yes, you’re about to learn to make candy. Tomorrow. We’ll just make things like fudge and brownies though. Cooking in an RV is limiting. But we can make do. And the microwave can be utilized, too. Do you like to cook?”

Cassie’s smile faded. “I—I can cook some. Your average can of beans and corn.”

Something about the way she said that, despite her air of humor, made Dottie wonder if there was more to the story. There usually was.

“But—” she beamed “—I love fudge. It’ll be cool learning how to make it. I wonder if Jake likes fudge. He said his boss told him to spend the next three days doing whatever Miss Norma told him to do, so he’ll be around tomorrow.”

“Who’s that?”

“Norma Sue Jenkins. I can’t wait to meet her and Adela and Esther Mae. They’re the ladies who first put out the ad that brought Lacy Brown and Sheri Marsh to town. And then there’s Molly, of course, and Sam. And Clint, and Cort and J.P. and Bob—”

“Whoa Nellie! How many people does this Molly write about?”

“Everyone…I think. I don’t know though, ’cause she never wrote about Jake, and I’ll tell you this—she should have. Although Bob’s probably gonna be my man. Bob’s special—”

“Bob? Who’s Bob, and what do you mean ‘your man’?” Dottie felt queasy.

“Bob Jacobs, he’s been a headliner in Molly’s stories. He’s the main reason I came. He’s the one I’m gonna marry.”



Brady hopped from the cab of his tractor, his boots sending up a plume of dust from the barn floor as he landed. He needed a shower, a tall glass of iced tea and some unwinding time. Striding from the barn, he made his way across the expanse of Saint Augustine grass and flagstone separating the house and the barn. His mom and dad had outdone themselves when they’d built the huge two-story ranch house.

What a waste that he lived here alone.

He was still gnawing on that problem a short while later walking, freshly showered, from the silent house out onto the front porch. The sound of his bare footsteps echoed behind him, reminders that no single guy should have this much house all to himself.

Sinking to the top step, he relaxed against the porch post as he’d done a thousand times in his lifetime and took a sip of his tea. Besides being the sheriff, the only official emergency responder within twenty miles, he also ran his own cattle operation. It made for a very full plate. And that helped him not think so much about how the house was too big for him.

Or about how it would never hear the steps of children…

He inhaled sharply, feeling the warm breeze, smelling the dust and grass, laced with a faint sweetness from the ancient wisteria bush growing up the trellis. It was hard to believe he’d spent most of his youth planning his escape from the quiet of the country, Mule Hollow specifically.

And his parents’ hopes and dreams for him.

His parents, had they lived to see his return, would have been happy…at least in theory. Dreams didn’t always turn out the way they were dreamed, but he’d adapted to the reality of his return home.

Life was about illusions. And overcoming regrets.

Dottie Hart.

The beautiful woman was special. The very essence of her being reached out and expressed the fact, he was certain, to everyone. He couldn’t imagine she had this effect on him alone. It had to be momentary, though, she was just passing through. Here today, gone tomorrow—literally. So where were all these thoughts bombarding him coming from?

He took another drink of his iced tea, then studied a pebble on the porch step as he rubbed his big toe back and forth across it. He’d accepted when he’d come back to Mule Hollow that he was damaged goods and he hadn’t really cared, yet the realization of his past and what it meant to his future had hit him full force today. For the first time in six years he suddenly cared that he was never going to marry and have a family.

It was ridiculous, he’d only just met Dottie and suddenly he was reevaluating his decisions.

He rose and walked to the end of the sidewalk, feeling the cool breeze on his sweat-dampened skin.

A picture of Dottie Hart formed in his mind. He couldn’t believe she had gone that far out of her way to watch out for Cassie. He thought of the Good Samaritan in the Bible. As a kid hearing that story in Sunday school, he hadn’t thought what an unusual thing the man had done. If he had fallen off his bike and skinned his knee, there had always been a herd of people who would stop to help him.

But that had been a kid’s perspective.

As a cop he’d seen firsthand just how unusual it was for someone to stop and help a person on the side of the road. People didn’t want to get involved. People were afraid. With good reason.

He understood all too well how dangerous it was out there. Witnessed it up close and too personal. There was a part of him that wanted to tell Dottie what she’d done had been reckless, most especially for a woman alone in an area she didn’t know. But his admiration for her overruled all his cautions. Again he wondered what her story was. He wondered… Stop wondering, Brady.

Other than helping her figure out if Cassie Bates was a runaway, he didn’t need to be wondering anything about Dottie.

Because the reality was, when each day ended, he would always walk into his house alone.

He’d chosen the life of a cop. He’d seen what happened to a cop’s family when things went wrong in the line of duty. He’d thought watching his partner die in his arms was the hardest thing he’d ever done. But it had been watching Eddie’s wife and two kids at the hospital that had changed his life.

He’d decided he would never put anyone he loved through that anguish.

Life was about choices. Good ones. Bad ones.

Hard ones.

Turning, he strode to the hollow house, yanked open the screen door and stepped inside. Alone.




Chapter Three


Sam’s Pharmaceuticals and Diner. Dottie read the sign splashed across the window. She smiled when she got close enough to read Eat at Your Own Peril, in small print. Sounded like Sam had a sense of humor.

When she awakened at her usual five in the morning she’d decided to check out the town and get a cup of coffee at the café. After working out and writing an e-mail to her brother, filling him in on what was happening, she’d made quick time coming over. She was excited to see the café Cassie had so vividly described to her with its jukebox that got stuck on forty-fives, playing the same song over and over again until it got good and ready to switch to something new.

Now, as she pushed open the door, she was instantly swept back in time. She felt like a child again, holding her granddad’s hand as he bought her a soda pop at the general store just down the road from his house.

She loved those days.

Today the smells were of aged, oiled wood, bacon frying and the sweet scent of five-cent candy…. Inhaling deeply, she knew she could really love this place.

The first person she saw when she stepped into the room was Sheriff Brady. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, the guy was the perfect adornment for any setting. All night she’d tried to tell herself there was no way he could be as handsome as she’d remembered.

Wrong.

He was everything she’d thought and more.

She had no time for this. She had an agenda to accomplish a long way from this small town. She was out of here in just a few days. So maybe she could look at the good sheriff, but that was it. No flirting, not that she was any good at flirting… The man was off-limits.

And you’d better remember it!

“Mornin’, Miss Hart.” His slow, easy drawl drew her to meet his eyes over his coffee cup as he took a sip of the steaming brew.

Dottie rubbed her suddenly clammy hands on the fronts of her workout pants and gave him a puny smile.

She’d had a terrible night after she’d finally turned in, which was strange since she’d had such an interesting day. No way had she been expecting the nightmares to start again. When she’d awakened drenched in sweat, her heart pounding in the darkness, not even the small night-light she kept near her bed helped. The only relief, as always, had been to flee outside to the sweet open space where she could sit and talk to the Lord. Her caring Savior was always there for her.

Everything was fine now. “Good morning to you, Sheriff. Did you sleep well?”

He raised an eyebrow. “How about you?”

She shrugged, noticing the two eavesdropping older men sitting at the window hunched over a game of checkers that they were valiantly pretending to play. Instead, they were covertly listening.

She swallowed the cotton in her mouth. “New surroundings don’t always lend themselves to a good night’s rest. That and Cassie’s snores. Whatever you do, don’t tell her I said that. If there’s one thing a young girl doesn’t want getting out it’s that she snores.”

Brady chuckled. “You’re probably right about that.”

Their gazes met. Dottie swallowed, forgetting everything for the moment as what felt like static electricity hummed between them. This was ridiculous!

She’d hoped she’d only imagined the electricity.

She hadn’t imagined anything.

He cleared his throat, set his cup down and motioned to the seat across from him. “Why don’t you join me.”

She nodded, purely a reflex action. Besides, she did need to talk to him. Pushing away the butterflies tearing up her stomach, she crossed to his booth, glad her limp had eased up this morning. She slid into the bench across from him and looked him straight in the eye.

No childish infatuation was going to ambush her and muddle her good sense. She had a bigger agenda than this, this infatuation.

Oh, but he did have nice eyes.

In her peripheral vision the two checker players leaned out from their chairs a bit, getting their ears a little closer to the action. Shaking herself again, she smiled at them, even though they hadn’t yet acknowledged her existence. Small towns always did have ears, and they had eyes, too, these two just hadn’t caught on to the fact that she was on to them.

They were a good excuse not to look at Brady and she was thankful for the distraction.

“I saw you exercising earlier. When I pulled into town, I glanced down that way and you were getting after some crunches. It looked like a scene from the movie G.I. Jane.”

“It’s part of my rehab.” Mental and physical, but she didn’t say that.

“At that rate you ought to be strong by tomorrow.”

She wished. “That would be just fine with me. I never have been weak and I can’t stand it. It makes me crazy.”

In more ways than one—

Suddenly the swinging door to the back of the store flew open and a small wrinkled man burst through carrying a plate of bacon and eggs.

“How-do,” he said as he plopped the plate down in front of the sheriff. “I heard what you said about being weak—you have a plate of this and you’ll be as strong as an ox in two weeks’ time. I promise.”

Dottie laughed—but the little man wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t joking. Oops. The last thing she wanted was to hurt his feelings.

“Sam takes his breakfast serious,” Sheriff Brady said, his eyes twinkling as he held back a chuckle of his own.

Sam crossed his wiry arms and locked eyes with her. “Eggs and bacon make a body strong. I don’t care what these reports say nowadays. It’s all that refined sugar that’ll kill you. From the looks of ya, you ain’t been eatin’ much of anythang.”

So much for thinking she was starting to get her figure back.

“Sam, this is Dottie Hart. She’s the one I was telling you about. Dottie, this is Sam. And those two over there are Applegate Thornton and Stanley Orr.”

She recognized all the names from Cassie. “Glad to meet all of you gentlemen.” The two checker players nodded and grunted something she couldn’t quite make out. Sam held out his hand and she slipped hers into his and nearly fell out of the seat when he pumped it up and down so hard she felt as if it would come out of its socket. “My goodness, those eggs and bacon must work.”

He beamed and dropped her hand, just in the nick of time.

“I’ll have you a plate in a jiffy. Mean whilst, how ’bout some coffee?”

“Oh, yes, please.”

Feeling a bit more relaxed, she watched him amble away.

“Is your arm okay?” Sheriff Brady asked, leaning across the table so that only she could hear the question.

“Yes, thanks. But boy, he’s rather vigorous.”

“Sam has a tendency to be violent when he shakes hands. I don’t know why, but it’s always the same.”

Dottie started to chuckle but bit it back as Sam reappeared with a cup of coffee. She thanked him and watched as he headed toward the kitchen with the promise that he’d be back in a few minutes.

She was about to say something more, when one of the checker players, Applegate, she thought it was, slapped his hand on the table and grunted loudly.

“Why’d you make that move?”

“’Cause I wanted to. It was the move to make, you old goat.”

“I didn’t see that checker there a minute ago.”

“You sayin’ I cheated?”

“I’m sayin’ that that checker wasn’t there a while ago.”

“App, I ain’t never had to beat you by cheatin’, so why should I have to do it now?”

Not certain if she should be alarmed, or if this went on all the time, Dottie glanced from the two men back over at Sheriff Brady. He seemed not even to notice what was going on. Instead, he was eating his eggs.

Taking her cue from him, she took a sip of her coffee and tried to ignore the men. It was a little hard when the one stood up and stormed out the door. She met Brady’s eyes over the rim of her cup and he winked. “It happens all the time.”

Okay. So maybe she wouldn’t have breakfast here again. Or maybe there was something she could do for the two men. She noticed that the one man, Stanley, continued to sit in his seat, contentedly eating sunflower seeds and spitting the husks into a bucket. Yuck! But at least it wasn’t that tobacco stuff.

Sam brought her eggs and bacon and a refill of coffee for her and the sheriff. “Stanley, when you ever going to quit doing that to the man?”

“What was that?”

“You heard me. I saw you turn up your hearin’ aid when Miss Dottie walked in.”

Stanley frowned. His entire face dipping in a cascade of wrinkles, he punctuated the frown by spitting out another husk. “App needs his blood pressure raised once a year. Keeps him kickin’.”

“Yeah, well, when he comes in here one day and kicks your—well, I ain’t goin’ there ’cause we have a lady in our presence, but you know what I’m talkin’ about. I ain’t gonna feel sorry for you at-tal.”

Dottie watched Sam retreat behind the swinging doors. She was beginning to worry about the two gentlemen; she certainly couldn’t eat. And then suddenly the door opened and Applegate strode back in, sat back down and grabbed a handful of seeds like nothing had happened.

“You old fool,” he said. “I was halfway to my truck when I remembered what day it was.”

“I get you every year.” Stanley chuckled and rubbed his hands together.

Applegate frowned. Dottie couldn’t help but think the man looked like a prune. Poor man. “You just wait till next April Fools’ day. I’m gonna git you next year.”

“Ain’t happened yet.”

April Fools’! Dottie couldn’t believe she’d forgotten today was the first day of April. Sheriff Brady was smiling when she looked back at him.

“Whew, I thought they were really breaking up a longtime friendship,” she said. This time she was the one leaning over the table.

“It happens every year. Keeps them alive, anyway. You better eat those eggs before they get cold and Sam gets upset with you.”

Dottie grimaced, said a quick silent prayer then lifted her fork and dug in. Mule Hollow was truly starting out as an interesting place to spend a few days.

And she’d been here less than twelve hours.

“So, you were on your way to California before you picked Cassie up?”

“That’s right. My brother is a pastor in Los Angeles and he’s involved with a foundation for women at risk—battered women, unwed mothers. I spent two weeks at the place and now I’m moving out there to be kind of a housemother to them.” Just thinking about it always made a happy face in her heart, not that it was a mother’s role she would be playing, but more that of a survivor and mentor. Someone who’d been down a similar road. “I’m going to keep the place up and teach the ladies some business skills. The plan is for me to reopen my candy business there and employ the women on a rotating basis. I can’t wait.”

Sheriff Brady placed his elbows on the table, linked his hands and rested his chin on his thumbs. “That’s a great plan. You have a great heart.”

Dottie shook her head. “When you’ve looked death in the face like I have and God brings you through…let me tell you, it’d be weird not to want to give back. I’m just making good on a promise I made to Him.”

“Like I said, you have a good heart. Thousands of people make that same promise when faced with trying times. But as soon as they’re back on their feet, they forget about it.”

Thinking back to those dark hours before she was rescued, Dottie shuddered. “I’ll never forget about what God delivered me from. Never. I look at life in an entirely new light. And I’m trying my hardest to live life in a new light.” And she was. No looking back. Only up. Even the nightmare’s return couldn’t change that.

When she left the diner, Brady walked with her. As they approached the RV she was surprised to see cowboys everywhere working on different projects. It looked like a scene from Lonesome Dove.

And Cassie was right in the big middle of it. The kid was flitting from one group to the next, introducing herself and offering her hand in introduction. It looked suspiciously like speed dating.

“I wonder if any of those guys know what she’s up to?”

“Oh, most of these guys are ready to settle down. Maybe not the younger ones, but for the most part all of them are thrilled with this campaign to get women out here to them. The odds of finding a wife out in this town looked pretty dismal after a while. Many of the guys actually had to move on to other places because they refused to live alone. Or shall we say they refused to live bunked up with a bunch of other rowdy bachelors for the rest of their lives.”

Dottie couldn’t blame them. But still, watching the serious look in Cassie’s eyes, she couldn’t help feeling the girl was looking at this as if she was picking out a pair of shoes or something. And that just wasn’t right.

Dottie had never been in love, but she wanted the man God intended for her to marry. That would be the most important thing she could look for but undeniably there would have to be chemistry between them. One didn’t just stand the men up in a line and say that’s him. There had to be more to it than that and she hoped Cassie would realize this and take her time looking for Mr. Right.

Sheriff Brady came to a halt in front of her RV. He placed his hands on his hips, emphasizing his broad shoulders and lean, muscular build. Dottie found herself studying his profile.

Why wasn’t this guy married?

He was good-looking, nice, seemed great on the outside…and, well…

Oh, come on, Dottie! Get honest here.

All right already, she grumbled to herself. The man had chemistry coming out his ears. His name was probably listed under the word in the dictionary.

He seemed to have it all, and yet he was still single. What did that mean?




Chapter Four


It was only eight o’clock in the morning, but after the hour spent at the diner, it felt much later. Now standing beside her RV with Sheriff Brady, Dottie was bewildered by her reactions to the man.

Flustered, she tugged open the RV’s door and grabbed her bag of candy from the dash. Despite the heavy breakfast she’d eaten she needed to settle her nerves and to focus. And that meant sugar!

“Want one?” She held out the half-full bag of colorful gelatin-looking bunnies.

“No, thanks,” Brady said, looking as if she’d offered him a bag of worms.

“Don’t tell Sam,” she whispered, plopping a couple into her mouth and letting the tangy little treats melt away.

“Your secret is safe with me,” he said, dipping his chin. “You do know that kind of stuff will kill you.”

“Mmm, thanks for the warning. I’ll keep that in mind the next time I get the urge to down the entire bag in one sitting.”

His eyebrows met in a V. “Tell me you don’t do that.”

She tried to look ashamed.

She really tried. And maybe she should actually be ashamed.

“Come on, tell me you haven’t eaten an entire bag of those things!”

“Well…” She fidgeted from foot to foot. “Sometimes. But not often,” she said, rapid-fire, gushing, and maybe feeling just a tad ashamed. “I want to live a long life. I just have to have a few of these a day.”

Liar.

He shook his head and the corners of his lips lifted ever so slightly in that cute way of his. Pushing his hat back, he stared up at the top of the RV. It was obviously an attempt to hide the full-blown grin Dottie could see building. “How’d you get all of that up there?” he asked.

She smushed a bunny between her fingers and held it out to him in an audacious attempt to make him break into a full-out smile. He complied instead with a scowl, which was acceptable, too, and she rewarded herself promptly for having achieved said goal by tossing the yellow bunny into her own mouth with learned accuracy. Two points! Yesss!

“Believe me,” she said before chewing. “It was not easy. Thank goodness a couple of friends from church helped me get the heavy stuff up there. I added a few other things after they went home. You should have seen us getting that wicker love seat up there.”

She dipped into the bag again.

“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 know that for certain. Hi, I’m Norma Sue Jenkins.”

“And I’m Esther Mae Wilcox,” said the redhead. “You can like Brady. Really. We’ve been looking for the right woman for him for a while now. We thought it might be Ashby Templeton, but those two ended up knowing that they weren’t a match after spending just one day at the fair together.”

“Esther, don’t push. Dottie has just arrived in Mule Hollow. And we’re glad you’re here. I’m Adela Ledbetter.”

Dottie barely heard the smart-looking woman with the feathery white hair and the brilliant blue eyes. Her head was still spinning from what Ethel—Esther had said.

“Adela, I know she just arrived here,” Esther continued. “But, from what I hear, she’s not staying very long, so we need to move fast. You know, get her while the iron’s on fire.”

“That’s while the iron’s hot,” Norma added dryly.

“Hot, on fire, it’s all the same thing. We just need to get her.”

Dottie was grateful she hadn’t passed out at the onslaught of the conversation. Instead, it was so shockingly comical, she chuckled.

“Why’s that funny?”

Biting back the last of the giggle and feeling like Lucy, she blinked at Esther. “Well, ma’am. I’m not here looking for a husband. I’m just passing out—I mean through.”

“And—what’s your point?”

Dottie looked at the other two ladies, who had given up trying to contain their friend. “Well, I—”

“Me and my Hank, it just took a look and a wink and we were together for life.”

“I thought it was a kiss?” Norma Sue said.

“Well, that, too. But I knew before that.”

“Okay, Esther,” Adela said, smiling. “Let’s do like Brady asked and give the poor girl a little room. If it’s to happen it will.”

“Honestly, I’m leaving,” Dottie blurted. These women were serious about their matchmaking. Give them an inch and wham!

Then it hit her. Again. Brady Cannon had known.

He’d known exactly what he was doing when he’d left her to fend for herself!

And the wink! Winks!

Ohhh, he was devious. The man had set the hounds on her on purpose. But why? What would possess him to do such a thing?

Looking from one pleasant-faced woman to the next, for the life of her she couldn’t understand why he would do this…unless he was just being funny.

Funny, my foot! She’d get him for this.



Back at his office, Brady was hoping something would come up fast and the case would be a snap. A database search was the place to start.

He knew it was too much to hope for that she’d simply run away from home because of something trivial. He knew the odds were against it. On the flip side, he hoped she wasn’t on the run because of something she’d done. It was a logical possibility.

For all involved, the sooner he found out the facts relating to Cassie the better. The last thing he needed was for her to win the hearts of all the townsfolk only to do something to harm them.

And then there was Dottie. It wasn’t like he went around winking at women all the time. It just happened. He had nothing to gain by it.

Besides, for all he knew, Dottie’s story could be false. Hey, she and Cassie could be involved in something together…con artists came in all shapes and ages. And the good women of Mule Hollow would be easy game.

Clenching his jaw Brady picked up a pen from his desk and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. His gut tightened and he told himself he was being ridiculous. He understood where the tendency came from, a man who’d seen it all and heard it all grew cynical.

He gave the pen tip three hard strikes to his desktop.

You’re not that guy anymore. Remember.

For a while, in the city, he’d lived on the excitement. The fast-paced rhythm of the precinct, the city lights, the adrenaline rush that came with every bust…

He closed his eyes, tightening his fingers around the pen…

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

Dottie’s words…good, open-hearted Dottie. Just thinking of her prompted a smile. He was a cop. His duty demanded that he check all details. Pick up on all possible angles.

In his old life, everyone was a suspect—he closed his eyes—but not anymore.

Dottie Hart was the real deal. He knew it and he refused to allow his fight with his past taint what he knew was true.

He opened his eyes. So why had he flirted with her? Because you couldn’t help it. Something about her, the inner beauty that radiated from her reached out to him.

Leaning back in his chair, he stared up at the ceiling and refocused on the problem at hand. Cassie.

It was true there could be any assortment of horrible reasons that the girl had been hitchhiking yesterday. But there was still a small ray of hope that everything she’d told Dottie was true. That she’d really come to Mule Hollow because of Molly’s articles.

He prayed that this was the case.

Not to mention how happy it would make the matchmaking posse of Mule Hollow.




Chapter Five


The welcome committee had grown to include several other women by the time Lacy and Cassie came rolling back in the Caddy.

“We’re not gonna let you girls leave here,” Esther Mae declared as Dottie set a pan of fresh fudge on the table that now had a rug beneath it and flowers in its center. “You two fit in with us like peas in a pod.”

“That’s right,” Norma Sue agreed. “Why, the moment Sam told Adela you were here and Adela called me, I had a good feeling.”

Dottie laughed. “I thanked the Lord for letting me break down in such a nice place.” She was trying not to think about what was cooking in their one-track minds.

“I think that’s so neat the way you followed Molly’s stories, Cassie,” Lilly Wells said, giving the girl a thumbs-up. “You just might find yourself a cowboy, if you really want one.”

“I’m glad my articles are making an impact,” Molly Popp added, flipping her rust-colored hair over her shoulder before placing a piece of fudge on her napkin. “I’m having unbelievable fun writing those stories. And the response has been overwhelming.”

“The post office has never seen so much mail,” Esther Mae added. “Hon, this fudge is so good my hips are expanding just smelling the stuff. And I don’t even give a hoot.”

Lacy’s nail tech, Sheri Marsh, paused before shoving a huge piece of extra-dark fudge into her mouth. “Where did you learn to make this? You need to know that I might be skinny, but I’m training to be a professional eater. And I think I just discovered my competitive food category.” She laughed and finished off the hunk of candy.

Dottie was amazed. Lacy had introduced her as the only woman she could think of who would’ve dropped everything to drive five hundred miles for a cup of coffee and the chance to share an adventure with her.

Dottie had a vivid picture in her mind of the two of them riding cross-country in the Caddy. It wouldn’t have been boring, of that she was certain. And for the life of her, she didn’t know where all that fudge was going! Sheri was about the size of Olive Oyl and she’d put away at least six pieces of the rich stuff.

That in itself was a testament to her grandma Sylvia’s candy-making talent. Dottie was embarrassed to accept all the praise the fudge was getting. She loved to cook, and had loved having her shop. Its reputation had grown so that she’d been able to make a nice profit from its sale. The money was enough to get her set up in California, but she still felt like an impostor when people complimented her cooking abilities.

“My grandma and Mom passed their talent and love of cooking down to me. And their recipes,” she said, giving credit where it was due.

“Really,” Lacy said, tapping her tangerine fingernails on the tabletop. “You know, Mule Hollow could use a good restaurant. Have you thought about that possibility? Just don’t do an all-you-can-eat buffet— Sheri’d bankrupt you.”

Dottie tugged at her earlobe, perplexed by their inability to hear any phrase resembling “no.” “Well, um, like I said, I have obligations to fulfill elsewhere. Though I dearly love Mule Hollow, I really do. I’m opening an old-fashioned candy store in California.”





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