Small Town Rumors(42)

“I’ll hate to see you leave Bloom, but I understand. Don’t worry about all the gossip and rumors. Folks are goin’ to talk, and what they think about the way you live your life doesn’t matter.”

He turned quickly and caught her staring. A blush dotted her cheeks, and she blinked. “It’s not a matter of what other people think of me, Rick. It’s what I think of myself, and that’ll take a while to get over, if I ever do.”

His hand went to her shoulder again. “Don’t be so tough on yourself. You’re a victim.”

She slowly lifted her eyes. “What about you? You’re a victim, too.”

He nodded. “That’s what my therapist said in the hospital. But just sayin’ it isn’t like takin’ a pain pill, and it all disappears. I’ve got scars on the outside, and we both have some on the inside. Maybe God slapped us down together in Bloom, Texas, so we could help each other get through the past and move on to the future.”

“I think a good friend is even better than a therapist,” she said.

“Me, too, Jennie Sue.” He nodded. “It’s gettin’ pretty dark. Let’s call it a night. I’ve got plenty for the deliveries tomorrow.”

“You are the boss.”

He stood and stretched out a hand. She put hers in it and imagined him pulling her to his chest, holding her there and maybe even kissing her. The vision made her pulse race a little, but it didn’t happen. Once she was on her feet, he let go of her hand, and they picked up their baskets to carry back to the porch.

“What makes you trust me? I could go tell your secret tomorrow,” he asked as he turned the faucet on that stuck out of the back of the house. In seconds a stream shot out from a short hose, and he sprayed off her feet before doing his own.

Oh, honey, she thought. Compared to the rest of the baggage, you know very little. She wiggled her toes to air-dry them and then put on her sandals. “Because my heart says I can trust you. I’d ask you the same thing—you just told me things that Cricket doesn’t know.”

“I feel better for tellin’ you. Kind of takes part of the burden off my chest,” he answered.

“Me, too, Rick, but you’d better take me home now, or else Miz Lettie will get out the shotgun and insist you make an honest woman out of me,” she teased.

“Or Dill Baker will, and believe me, darlin’, I’d be more afraid of his aim than Miz Lettie’s.” He opened the door a crack and yelled inside, “Hey, Cricket, I’m takin’ Jennie Sue home now. Anything you want from town?”

“Not a thing,” she answered.

A few minutes later, he was pulling into Lettie’s driveway. “Thanks for listenin’ to me tonight.”

“That goes both ways. There’s just something about being in a garden—” She paused.

He laid a hand on her arm. “I understand.”

“I think you do.” Three times—or was it four?—he’d touched her that evening, and every time she’d wanted more. A kiss or even a long hug. “Good night, Rick. See you tomorrow.”

“After I park the bookmobile at the library, I’ll come down to the bookstore. Maybe I’ll get in on the job of snapping beans, or I can help you rearrange the shelves.” He put his hand back on the steering wheel. “Thanks for all this, Jennie Sue.”

“You are welcome, but I should thank you.”

She hopped out of the truck and was on her way through the garage when Lettie hollered from the kitchen door, “I’ve been lookin’ for you. Come on in. We can brew up some hot chocolate and have a cookie. I’ve got news.”

She did an abrupt turnaround and headed toward the porch, carrying her shoes.

“I’m coming right out of the garden, so I might track in some dirt,” she called out when she reached the house.

“I’ve got this really good cleaning lady who’ll come around in a couple of days, so I’m not worried. Pull up a chair to the table and let’s visit. Lord, I love having you close. It’s like you’re the granddaughter I never got to have,” Lettie said.

A lump popped up in Jennie Sue’s throat. “I’d hug you, but I’m too sweaty and dirty.”

Lettie patted her on the shoulder. “We’ll hug it out later. Hot chocolate is in the slow cooker. I make a batch every couple of weeks and then store it in the refrigerator. It’s good with a little whiskey in it on the nights when I can’t sleep. Want a little shot in yours?”

Jennie shook her head. “I really don’t want anything at all to eat or drink, honest.”

“Then tell me how things are going out on the farm.”

“Just fine. We got plenty gathered in for Rick’s deliveries tomorrow, and it seems like Cricket is coming around. I kind of like her bluntness, to tell the truth. My friends in high school were the Belles’ daughters, for the most part, and in college, it was sorority sisters. I always felt like they couldn’t wait for me to leave the room so they could bad-mouth me. With Cricket, I don’t need to leave the room. If she’s got something to say, she says it.”

Lettie picked up a cookie. “The secret to good pecan sandies is real butter. Don’t never use margarine in pecan sandies.” Lettie handed a mug of chocolate that smelled like Irish whiskey to Jennie Sue. “You can have a sip of mine just to see how good it is.”