No Place Like Home. Debra Clopton

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No Place Like Home - Debra  Clopton


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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


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