Hey, Sheriff, where you been? You’ll freeze your butt out there.”

Sheriff Katie Kettering pulled off her gloves and tossed her cream-colored straw hat onto the small table next to Linnie’s station, given to her by Sam for Christmas after her old one was destroyed in November. “It’s cold but the butt isn’t frozen yet,” she said, rubbing her hands.

“Perfect shot. You sail that new hat as good as the old one, Sheriff,” Linnie said. “You’re really late. What’s up?”

Katie shrugged. “Mr. Turner’s rottweiler, Sugar Plum, chased Benny Phelps all the way to Molly’s Diner, where he barricaded himself in, much to everyone’s enjoyment.”

Pete Margolis, one of the firefighters from next door, there to steal some of Linnie’s coffee, said, “Oh well, Benny’s the new postman and Sugar Plum just doesn’t know him well enough yet. What are you going to do about it?”

“When I took Sugar Plum home and explained the problem, Mr. Turner gave me some of Sugar Plum’s treats. Benny can try tossing them to her when he delivers the mail.”

“After a week of the treats,” Wade said, “she’ll probably want to deliver mail with him.”

Linnie said, “Mayor Tommy called, now he’s begging. He wants you to talk to some reporters from Knoxville, help put Jessborough on the map.”

“He just doesn’t give up, you have to give him that. Tell him no way, again, Linnie.”

“He also wants to know Miles’s timetable for moving the plant here. He’s all ready to shove it through the county planning commission, and he needs the plans for the plant. He said it should sail through, given Kettering Helicopters Inc. won’t be sitting any farther than fifty yards from the Benedict Pulp Mill.”

“I gave Miles a real good deal on the price,” Katie said.

“Mayor Tommy’s rubbing his hands together about all the new jobs he’ll get credit for.”

Katie said, “Tell Tommy that Miles will be here tomorrow. He can talk to him then.”

Deputy Neil Crooke stuck his head around the corner. “The toilet in the men’s room needs work, Sheriff.”

“Call Joyce at City Hall. She’ll take care of it.”

Wade said, “Oh yeah, Billy Bob Davis was hitting on his wife again, but when I went over there, she just snuffled and said she’d run into the door. There was nothing I could do.”

Katie rolled her eyes. “You know what, Wade, why don’t you and I go out to their farm and have a little chat with Billy Bob. Maybe if we rub his nose in some of the manure out there, it’ll help him listen better.”

Wade grinned and grabbed his leather jacket. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll follow you out there.”

Katie bundled up again, planted her straw hat on her head, and headed out, sucking in the sweet cold air. She walked to her newly repainted Silverado, all the bullet holes and dents finally repaired. She smiled toward the thick fog-covered mountains. She could reach out her hand and touch them, nearly. She hummed as she revved the powerful engine. She drove slowly down Main Street, making sure none of the snowdrifts would cause any problems. She waved to Dr. Sheila Raines, running across a well-plowed Main Street after her cat, Turpentine, black as sin and easy to see against all the snow. She saw Dr. Jonah Flint wave to Sheila, then eagerly join her to go after Turpentine. Hmm, something just might be going on there.

She was still humming forty minutes later when she had her knee on the small of Billy Bob’s back, pressing his face in the dirty snow in his backyard while she told him what was what.

She heard one of the Gibsons’ dairy cows moo loudly into the bright blue sky. She heard the Benedict Pulp Mill’s noon whistle.

It was a perfect day in the most beautiful place on God’s earth.