The Other Soldier. Kathy Altman
Читать онлайн книгу.
nice. I don’t see you in town very often.”
Parker pasted on an answering smile and scrambled for the energy to be polite. “How’re things at the shop?”
“A little slow, but you know how it is. I’ve only been open a few months.” She gestured at Parker’s cart. “Harris was running errands just yesterday morning. You should have asked him to do your shopping.”
Parker fumbled her smile. Harris would be doing a lot less for her in the future. “I was in town anyway. An appointment with the principal.”
Eugenia looked doubtfully at Parker’s jeans and polo shirt. “Everything all right?”
“As right as it can be.”
The older woman’s gaze dropped to her own basket. Carefully she studied each item, as if checking for holes or dents or bruises. “How is Harris?” she asked in a too-careless voice, and Parker’s heart went south. Harris and Eugenia had dated a few times but then Harris had announced they’d stopped.
Apparently it hadn’t been a mutual decision.
“He’s okay,” Parker said. But of course Eugenia wouldn’t be satisfied with that. Since Harris’s news wasn’t Parker’s to share, she gambled on a distraction.
She backed up and made a show of admiring the sweater set and gray pencil skirt that hugged the older woman’s trim figure. “You always look so elegant.” She nodded at Eugenia’s outfit. “One of yours?”
Cheeks flushed with pride, Eugenia nodded. “You should come by. I’m holding my first sale next week. Trying to get people to come inside instead of peering through the windows.” She plucked at her skirt. “I have something similar in sage. It’d go perfectly with your coloring.”
“I’ll try to make that sale. I don’t remember the last time I didn’t wear denim.”
Eugenia looked like she was floundering for something tactful to say when Hazel Catlett click-clacked up in her low-heeled sandals.
“Parker Dean.” Hazel was a white-haired, bright-eyed woman in her seventies who wore lipstick the color of Cheetos. She pointed with a skinny eggplant. “You look fit as a fiddle. Just like that guest of yours.”
“I’m sorry?”
“June and I—we saw your soldier out running this morning and stopped to introduce ourselves.” Hazel winked. “We couldn’t help admiring his…stride.”
Eugenia chuckled while Parker curled her fingers around the handle of her shopping cart and squeezed. Hard.
So much for small-town bliss. Yes, Castle Creek’s residents considered looking out for each other a privilege and a duty. But they also considered gossip a competitive sport.
“He’s not my soldier, Hazel. And how is June, by the way?”
“She dragged me away from Glenn Ford and Hope Lange just to look for a special kind of noodle she needs for some Thai recipe.” She leaned closer, and Parker could see that some of her bright orange lipstick had wandered off into the wrinkles around her lips. “And this is the woman who thinks almond butter is exotic.” Hazel straightened. “So, are you two an item?”
Parker was tempted to put her arm around Eugenia and smile an affirmative. But that wouldn’t be fair to Eugenia. Darn it.
“Not an item,” she said, and just the thought did unpleasant things to her stomach. “Barely friends,” she added.
If “barely” meant “when hell freezes over.”
“Don’t give up, honey.” Hazel patted her arm, then frowned at Parker’s hair, which she’d gathered at the back of her head and fastened with a big plastic clip. “Speaking of honey—”
“Isn’t that June?” Eugenia cocked her head. “Hazel, I think your sister’s calling.”
“Thank you, hon. My hearing’s not what it used to be.” She tucked the eggplant in her basket and took off for the pasta aisle.
Eugenia shook her head. “What a pair. Harris calls them Hazel and Nut.”
“Today Hazel’s the nut. Why is everyone trying to set me up?”
Eugenia shrugged. “It’s spring.”
Parker’s cell rang and she checked the ID. Harris. The knots in her stomach tightened. Something was wrong, she just knew it. She’d wanted to make the delivery herself, but that stubborn so-and-so had thrown a fit when she’d suggested it.
Please let him be okay. “What’s up, Harris?”
“I got halfway to Cherry Point before the truck broke down.”
Parker closed her eyes.
“Parker? Is everything all right?”
She opened her eyes to find Eugenia watching her anxiously. Meanwhile Harris’s gruff voice was advising her that unless they wanted to pay to have the truck towed all the way to the store, they’d better find another way to get the plants delivered. And soon. Because the supermarket only accepted deliveries until eight.
And if Castle Creek Growers didn’t meet that deadline, they’d be in breach of contract. Which meant they wouldn’t be paid. Which meant Parker wouldn’t be able to afford the groceries she’d already plunked into her cart.
“I’ll bring Pete,” she said into the phone. “Where exactly are you?”
Once she disconnected Eugenia shook her head. “Parker, you can’t take Pete. Today’s Friday. The garage closes early.”
Parker choked out a laugh. “Of course it does. Guess I’ll just have to go by his house.” Which would take her fifteen minutes longer. Each way.
“Why don’t you check Snoozy’s first? His pickup’s usually there when I drive by in the evenings.”
“Thanks, I will.”
Parker jammed her phone back into her purse. How the heck would she manage if Pete couldn’t fix her truck?
* * *
WHEN PARKER PUSHED INTO the bar’s dim interior, Snoozy had Glenn Miller playing. Normally that would have delighted her, but the current situation demanded the most plaintive of country songs. Stress goaded her heart rate into a faster pace as she narrowed her eyes and scanned the room. A lot of familiar faces, but no—oh, Lord. What was he doing here?
Corporal Reid Macfarland shared a table with Joe Gallahan and Noble Johnson. Noble was saying something in his I-snack-on-thumbtacks voice and Joe laughed out loud, while Macfarland showed his approval by tipping his beer. Parker felt that now-familiar surge of resentment, the one that set off sparks behind her breastbone. How dare he party—and with her neighbors—after taking away her husband’s ability to drink, to smile, to laugh?
After taking away his life.
Her breath hitched and she turned away before the trio could spot her. Not fair, Parker Anne. She’d been struggling to move on for thirteen months. Of course he would be, too. Which was why he’d come looking for her in Castle Creek.
Not fair, no. But no one had ever accused grief of being rational. And right now she cared about rational as much as she cared about facials and high heels.
“Parker.”
She cringed. She hadn’t turned away quickly enough.
She swung around. Joe was crossing the room toward her. Behind him Noble remained seated, while the corporal stood beside the table, his expression wary.
“Everything all right?” Joe asked.
“I’m looking for Pete Lowry. Have you seen him?”
“He left about an hour ago. Said something about visiting his folks in Harrisburg. Why?”
Parker