Picnic in Someday Valley (Honey Creek #2)(26)

When the trial was over and he saw her standing in the stairwell crying, he stopped long enough to say he was sorry for her loss. Pecos considered that to be proper, since Boone would be over a hundred before he was eligible for parole.

When Pecos looked up again, Marcie was standing on the other side of his little table. She had the littlest cup of coffee the bakery offered. It didn’t cost anything. It was meant for people to sample different blends.

“Mind if I take this chair?” Her words were polite but the sorrow in her eyes touched him. She reminded him of those ads about dogs at the pound. They seemed to look up with no hope left.

“Of course.” He half stood as she sat down.

He watched her as she pulled off her coat and set her purse by the wall. She was thinner than she had been a few months ago. Sadder.

Pecos looked down at his two rolls. “You wouldn’t want one of these, would you? My eyes are bigger than my appetite. I’d hate it to go to waste.”

“I’ll try one,” she answered.

“How are you doing?” he asked as he passed her the roll. She was almost ten years older than he was. Too old to hang out with anyone he knew, so he had no idea how life was treating her.

“I’m doing fine. Surviving.”

“I’m glad.” He’d decided months ago that she hadn’t deserved all the gossip. “You hear I got married?”

“No. News rarely makes it to Someday Valley unless it’s bad,” she answered. “Will your wife be mad that you’re eating breakfast with another woman?”

“Nope. She knows I’ve been nuts about her since we were in grade school.” He shrugged. “She also knows I like to talk to folks.”

Marcie almost smiled. “Does she feel the same about you? You know, nuts about you?”

Pecos shook his head. “No, but I’m growing on her. Even my mother said I’m not much to look at. Too skinny.”

“You’re a good man, Pecos Smith. That matters more than looks. I think kind men are always handsome. You were the only one who talked to me that day when Boone’s trial ended. I have a feeling that as the years pass you’ll grow more handsome and that wife of yours will love you dearly.”

“Thanks. Mind if I ask why you’re in town so early? Nothing is open but this bakery and the gas stations. Most folks are sleeping in or getting ready for church.”

Her eyes turned cloudy again, and for a moment he thought she might start crying. Then she straightened, as if deciding to be honest. “I’m looking for a place to live, but I can’t find something I can afford. I’m singing and working a few nights at a bar in Someday Valley, but I have to get a day job. I hoped I’d see a sign in a window of one of the shops or on the Help Wanted board down at the grocery.” She was silent for a minute, then added, “I’ll take anything—housecleaning, waitress, any honest work. I don’t know how to do much, but I’m a fast learner.”

Pecos knew he should probably stay out of her business, but she had those puppy dog eyes and he knew how it felt to be low.

“I don’t know of any work, but I know where you’d be invited to lunch. Lots of us eat at Mr. Winston’s on Sundays. Someone might know of a job.”

“Would I be welcome?”

“You bet.” He wrote Mr. Winston’s address on a napkin just as his phone binged. “I got to go. That is my wife telling me it’s time to pick her up. Don’t forget to show up at twelve thirty. These folks are mostly old, but I swear they’re the brain-trust of this town.”

Marcie stared at the napkin. “Thanks. I might just come. I haven’t been invited to lunch in a long time.”

Pecos stood. “I haven’t done anything yet, but all of us will help if we can. Marcie, you’ll be among friends if you come.”

“Thank you for the invitation.” She looked up at him with clear eyes. “And yes, you have done something. You gave me breakfast and hope. If I’m still in town, I’ll take you up on that lunch.”

Pecos waved at her as he ran to pick up Kerrie. The meeting with her parents hadn’t lasted long. He didn’t know if that was good or bad.





Chapter 18


Jesse


Sundays Jesse dressed the kids in their best and headed off to church. He didn’t consider himself a particularly religious man, but since his sweet wife went to Heaven, he’d try his best to get up there someday. She’d need him to drive her around the streets paved with gold, because she always turned the wrong way if she got in a place that had a population bigger than four thousand.

Jesse usually sat near the back of the church, nearest the bathroom. With three kids it paid to be prepared.

When the children’s sermon was over, his children left with their friends for the gym. Both their grandmothers were part of the gang of seniors who watched over them.

Grandma George claimed she had heard all the preaching she needed for this lifetime and was too old to do much sinning, so she’d watch the kids.

Jesse would have forty minutes to sit alone before he picked them up. Forty minutes of acting like he was listening to the preacher.

About the time the kids disappeared, someone sat down next to him. No one but Jesse seemed to notice; after all, the preacher had started.

For a few minutes all Jesse saw was a blue cape beside him. Midnight blue, he thought, made for rainy nights. Three more inches closer and she would have been touching him. Slowly, he turned his head. Curly auburn hair overflowed on the sides of her hood.