Page 49 of Ryder

My mother nearly drops the towel she’s folding. “Wouldn’t that be nice? What a great idea.”

My father frowns. “We can barely afford to keep the lights on. We can’t pay for a website.”

Ryder wraps both arms around me from behind and sets his chin on my shoulder. “I’m dating your daughter. I would never charge you for my services, Roy.”

“Oh, well…if you think it’s necessary.”

I sigh and elbow myboyfriendto get him to release me. “Most of the town needs a web overhaul,” I tell him, “including the town itself. There’s a site, but it’s been over a year since anyone updated it. It’s no wonder we can’t draw in tourists. I suspect if they looked at the site, they’d find out we’re having an anniversary celebration for the town’s one-hundredth birthday.”

Ryder cringes. “When was that?”

“Three years ago.”

“I’ll look at it. Who manages it?”

My mother picks up the pile of towels and shuffles toward the shelves. “Last I heard, it was Darlene Weatherford.”

“Maybe I should talk to her,” Ryder says. “Where could I find her?”

I giggle. “At the cemetery.”

My mother shoots me a narrowed look. “Claire,” she chastises.

“What? It’s true.”

My mother covers her mouth, stifling a laugh. “I suppose you’re right.” She turns toward Ryder. “Darlene won’t be of much help. She died six months ago.”

Ryder cringes. “Sorry to hear that.”

“No one else is,” I mutter.

“Claire!” My mother’s eyebrows shoot upward, but she covers her mouth again.

“Darlene was an old biddy and a gossip,” I tell Ryder. “The town has been calmer without her sharing everyone’s business.”

Ryder taps his lips. “Who shares the gossip now?”

My parents glance at each other. It’s my father who answers, though. “You can count on Arnie Truegood for that nowadays.”

“Where do I find him?” Ryder asks.

I curl my nose. “Why would you want to?”

My father looks at Ryder and grins widely. What the hell? “Arnie comes in every day to have coffee with his oldest friend, Blue. They sit in the front window and talk under their breath like two old ladies.”

“Hey,” my mother shouts. “Not all old ladies gossip.”

“Of course not, dear,” my father responds teasingly before returning his attention to Ryder. “If you’re thinking what I am, the idea is brilliant.”

“Ooh, definitely,” my mother agrees.

I set my hands on my hips. “Anyone want to fillmein?”

Ryder pulls me against his side. “If Smith is plotting a way to convince the entire town you’re his girl, we’ll get ahead of him and beat him at his own game.”

I’m not sure I’m going to like this plan. “How?”

“By putting on an amazing show for Arnie and Blue.”

---