Page 22 of All You Want
“I like living in a place where I know everyone.”
Since I’m not going to meet Todd, I unpack the rest of the basket. Roast beef sandwiches, croissants, a fruit salad, and her heavenly frosted brownies.
“But you’re so bent on bringing strangers to our town and growing it beyond anything we can handle,” Mom says. “I think people come back because they like the peace and quiet.”
“Yeah, but with the high state taxes, we need new businesses to keep our town going. The cost to fight the fires, the need for law enforcement, and even basics like electricity, sewers, and fresh water. We can’t let Colson’s Corner turn into a ghost town. We need new jobs to attract young people to stay.”
“I applaud your love for our hometown. But do you have to take it all on your shoulders? I feel like you and your father are the only two boosters, and everyone else is against you.”
“My HEX sisters are ready to invest, and so are Evan’s friends, the investment bankers from the Sigma Epsilon Chi fraternity. We’ll recreate the glory of the Gold Rush days right here.” I pick a brownie from the basket and take a bite. “Mmm… Mom, seriously, you ought to open a bakery next to the bed and breakfast.”
“We already have Joe’s Diner,” Mom says. “Don’t want to take too much of their business.”
“You and Dad are such opposites.” I lick the frosting off my fingers. Oops. That brownie just went down the hatch and cancelled the Lean-but-not-Mean Chicken Caesar Salad I had for lunch.
“So are you and Todd,” Mom says, still harping on the impossible dream.
“I’ve given up on chasing him.” I wipe my lips and reapply my lipstick. “Sometimes, opposites aren’t meant to be.”
“Maybe you should slow down and let him catch you.” Mom repacks the picnic basket and raises her eyebrows at me. “Men like Todd love the chase before the catch.”
* * *
~ Todd ~
I’m back to answering the phones myself. The volunteer is busy babysitting her grandchildren, and Shane is out at the speed trap. But no matter what, I don’t regret firing Molly. I did a good deed taking her on, training her, and giving her chances, but she’s become a liability if she’s spilling police department secrets and drinking in the middle of the day.
I know Tami was pumping her on the reason for me denying her public party, but the truth is, having four old-timers deputized is not going to solve the traffic problem.
The phone rings, and I pick it up.
“It’s good to hear your voice, Sheriff,” Miss Laverne Pine, the town’s oldest resident says. “That Molly was so rude. Never asked me how I’m doing or if I need anything.”
“You doing okay? Need anything?” I ask, knowing that half of the time she calls, she wants someone to talk to.
“Oh, the weather’s changing. My bones tell me so. It’s going to be a cold winter.” Her voice creaks as much as her bones, and I wonder if she’s catching a cold.
“You have enough firewood?”
“Had that young Mr. Donnie chop me a bunch. He’s got it all stacked and ready.”
Donnie and the rest of the Vice are well over seventy, but to Miss Laverne, they’re whipper-snappers.
“Good. I’m on my way out to the Falls for a hike. Need anything from the general store?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” She rattles off things she needs for winterizing. “You are so sweet to think of me living all by myself up in the gulch.”
Her praise makes me feel warm, and I’m sure I’m blushing. It’s part of being a small-town sheriff. I take care of my townsfolk, and I watch out for them.
“I’ll be by in about an hour. Remember, don’t open your door to strangers.” I give her my customary sign-off.
She laughs. “Strangers are new friends to be. Last night, I met a delightful young family on their way back from that ghost-hunting party. They had the most adorable kids. They needed to use the bathroom, so they knocked on my door.”
“And you let them in,” I finish her thought resignedly.
“And lived to tell you about it. Try not to worry so much. It’s a friendly town, and the visitors are here to have some good clean fun. I’m telling you. I’d rather have ghosts in the red-light district than the outlaws who used to live there across the creek. Remember Ma Belle? Served a man sweet tea and buried him under the floorboards. Then there’s Baja Angel. No one ever found her body, did they? Those were some wild days. The Bee Sting Bordello and the Sixty Miners Saloon have seen better days. Course, it’s before my time, but my grandmama always told me, Gold Fever makes a man crazier than a coon on catnip.”
“It was wild back in those days,” I concur. “The population was also ten times larger. It’s hard to believe how many miners crawled around these hills. I’m glad those days are behind us.”
