Page 49 of The Party Line

“Nothing green here. Mostly white ones, but I do see a yellow one. What have you got against green ones?”

“My granny’s grandmother said poison is green. She would never give me anything that was that color.” He threw back all the pills like a shot of bad whiskey.

“That’s silly. It’s probably just green dye.”

“Then green dye is poison.” He took another sip of his coffee. “Is that all?”

“You’ve got to use this inhaler three times a day for a week.” I handed it to him and told him what to do with it. “I promise what comes out of it is not green.”

He did what I asked, and immediately the wheezing stopped. “What was that stuff? Magic?” he asked.

“Yep. Looks like you won’t have to smell skunk in your backyard after all, if you just use this magic thing three times a day and then when you need it after you get well.”

He narrowed his old eyes until they were little more than slits. “Can I have my hot toddies with it?”

“We can ask the doctor when we go see him in two weeks,” I replied.

He groaned. “Don’t make me go back to that hospital.”

“I’m not going to unless you get really sick again,” I promised. “But we will find a primary doctor in Poteet to take care of you. You’ll only have to go every six months if you stay well.”

“I guess I can live with that,” he said. “Reckon you could find one that makes house calls?”

“Not in this day and age.” I wasn’t about to tell him that some doctors did video appointments. Jasper was pushing a hundred years. It was way past time he got checked out twice a year.

“Man can walk on the moon, put machines up in space, and talk on a phone no bigger than a pack of cigarettes, and yet doctors can’t make house calls. I’d like to go back to the good ol’ days.”

“So would I,” I agreed, “but we can take comfort in knowing that we still grow and pick and sell strawberries the same way we have for years.”

“God bless the strawberries,” he said. “Now, get on back out there with your new boyfriend. Are you making breakfast in the morning, or is he?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I protested. “I’m making omelets and pancakes for supper, and he won’t be staying all night. Would you like for me to bring you a plate?”

“Nope. I just want to finish my coffee and watch John Wayne teach them boys how to handle cattle.”

I took a step toward the door. “I can come out here and make breakfast for you or make it at my house and bring it to you. Which one do you think will work better?”

“I usually just have a cup of coffee.”

“Your medicine has to be taken with food.”

“Then you can bring it to me. Not nothing big,” he said. “You don’t need to try to fatten me up.”

“That ain’t likely to ever happen. Good night, Jasper.”

“’Night,” he said.

Chapter Fifteen

Connor’s deep country drawl singing the Alan Jackson song “Little Bitty” floated out across the yard when I left Jasper’s house. I stopped at the back door and peeked inside to see him using a whisk for a microphone. I tapped my foot in time with the music and smiled when he traded the whisk for an imaginary guitar. Not a one of my previous boyfriends had liked country music, and the two serious ones had been so stiff that I couldn’t imagine them ever belting any song out like Connor was doing. The lyrics sank deep into my soul and lay there like a warm blanket when the words said that it was all right to live in a little bitty town.

“Amen,” I whispered as I eased the door open and slipped into the kitchen.

The song ended, and Travis Tritt started singing “It’s a Great Day to be Alive.” Connor turned around and grabbed me around the waist and two-stepped with me all around the room. My heart pounded so hard that I thought it would fly out of my chest and land on the linoleum. When the song ended, he flipped me back in true Hollywood fashion and brushed a soft kiss across my lips. The thumping of my heart got even harder, and my chest tightened. Lord have mercy! There was no way I could slam on the emotional brakes when it came to Connor Thurman.

“Thank you for the dance,” I said when I could catch my breath.

“My pleasure,” he said. “Mind if I leave the music on while we make supper?”

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