Picnic in Someday Valley (Honey Creek #2)(34)

She jumped up and kissed him again. “Thank you, thank you.” His kindness had given her a running chance to change.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said as he brushed her kiss off his cheek.

“What? Kiss you or check on you? We’re friends. I have to keep up with you now, Brand. One of those horses could kick you in the head and no one would know for weeks.”

“I just wanted you to be safe and not have to walk home at night. You needed a car you could depend on.”

“How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing, Marcie. Absolutely nothing.”

“But I can pay some of the cost. I can’t just depend on you to save me every time I have trouble. I can’t drop in on you when I need a place to crash or a great meal.”

“Yes, you can. You could pay me back by playing for me now, and then I’d count us even.” His low voice sounded more a wish than a bargain.

When they moved into the living room, she picked up her guitar, which she’d left in his truck. She sat on one end of the couch and he sat on the other. As he always did, Brand didn’t move as she played but he smiled as if her songs rested his soul.

He thanked her and they settled in to watch the late news. She made one big cup of cocoa and sat next to him as they shared. Then, as if it was routine, she wrapped her arms around his arm, leaned her head against his shoulder, and closed her eyes.

“I feel like I’m a tree branch and you’re a koala bear.”

“I feel like that too. Do you mind?”

He shifted down so his head rested on the back of the couch. “Nope.”

Marcie smiled. The big silent man was growing on her.





Monday





Chapter 22


Piper


Piper leaned against Colby as they walked out of the fire station and into clean morning air.

One of the deputies yelled, “Thanks, Mayor, for spending the night with us.”

“You’re welcome, Rip,” she answered. “Get some sleep. It’s over.”

“You too.”

Colby ended the exchange by closing the station door. He looked tired and in no mood to talk to her or anyone else.

But talking was how Piper calmed, and the ranger would just have to put up with her. “We dodged a bullet last night.” The gutters ran, full of leaves floating on fast-running water. The buildings and trees were wet, making the whole town sparkle. “Another few hours of rain and the water would have crossed the highway and flowed into town. Then, we might have had serious problems.”

“You’re right,” he managed to contribute to the conversation as they walked toward the parking lot.

“I feel like everyone worked together, don’t you?”

Colby didn’t answer and she knew he wasn’t in the conversation. They were side-by-side, but they were not together.

Piper continued. “Thanks to a few firemen and several men with boats, the folks in danger were moved to safety. There were more people living out by the river than anyone knew about. That new housing development called Brazos Ranches didn’t look close enough at the flood zone to consider where they were building. Homes, not even finished, are standing in two feet of water.”

Colby didn’t seem interested, so she changed the subject. “I called Jennifer. Water flooded up to the porch of the Honey Creek Café, but it’ll retreat fast too.”

Colby laughed as if finally waking up from his sleepwalking. “Your cousin Jennifer stayed with the ghosts, didn’t she? Glad she didn’t call in to be evacuated. Half of the firefighters would head upstairs as they turned into ghost hunters.”

Piper finally linked her arm in his. “Another strange fact. Most of the folks who were trapped hadn’t been listening to the warnings from Rambling Randy. In truth, I don’t think anyone ever listens to him.”

Colby pulled her closer. “We were lucky the boats found them. Several people in town took in the folks that flooded out, but if it had rained a little harder for a little longer, we would have had hundreds to move.”

Piper jerked away from him and started running toward her van. “Oh no,” she yelled. “I forgot. I told the firemen to take the old fishermen, who said they had nowhere to go, to Widows Park. I said the ladies would welcome them in.”

“That’s nice,” Colby replied, jogging along beside her.

“No, it was a bad idea. I just realized that old men, living out there alone with little or no contact with humans, probably live out there for a reason. Wanted criminals. People who don’t do well in society. Mass murderers. Men who don’t bathe regularly.”

“We’d better hurry. They may be having your grandmother and the other widows for breakfast,” Colby teased. “To your aunt Linda, not taking a bath probably ranks up there with being a mass murderer.”

She slapped his arm for making fun of her. She was pulling away from the curb by the time he jumped into her van.

Colby swore. “Your van smells like cow manure.”

Piper fought down her anger. “Of course it does. I garden, remember. I have to do something when my boyfriend doesn’t bother to come home for three months.” She was tired and frustrated and angry with herself for putting the widows in danger. None of the men in those shacks had wives, and there was probably a reason.