“No mention of Kinsey burning down the bunkhouse?”

Jill shook her head. “Not yet, but it’s only been an hour.”

“I’ll bet you that’s the first thing Polly mentions. Rumors travel fast, but anything that has to do with the Gallaghers or the Brennans can break the sound barrier, and I heard something that resembled a jet airplane a couple of minutes ago,” Sawyer said.

“You’ve got a bet. She or Aunt Gladys will call me at the bar, but if the rumor was already spreading, Aunt Gladys would have said something about it right then. What’s the stakes?”

“A kiss.”

She slowly turned. “You sure about that?”

“I am.”

“Lips or cheek?”

“You can decide where, if you win. I already know where mine is landing if I win,” he teased.

“And you’re not telling?”

“It’s classified.” His eyes sparkled.

She loved it, and, hey, after that last kiss, she wouldn’t mind testing the waters just to see if more would turn her toes up and make her insides melt like ice cream on a hot Texas afternoon.

The corners of her mouth twitched. “Do we need to shake on it?”

“I reckon your word is fine. I trust you, Jill.” He parked in front of Gladys’s white frame house, a low-slung ranch house with a wide porch facing the east, and open on both ends to catch the evening breeze, whether it came from the north or south.

She reached over her shoulder and picked up one flat box of doughnuts. “I’ll take one box. You take the other. Then we’ll both be the fair-haired glory child.”

“I don’t think anyone would ever call me fair-haired,” he said. “And there’s no way I’ll ever be on a level with you in their eyes, but I’ll gladly carry one in and rack up however many points I can get.”

The door flew open before Sawyer had time to knock, and Verdie motioned them inside. She was shorter than Polly, had jet-black hair that enhanced every wrinkle in her face, and there were plenty there to work on, but when she smiled, her brown eyes sparkled, and that’s all Jill could see.

“You take that box out of her hands so she can hug me.” Verdie talked the whole time she hugged Jill. “I swear, girl, it’s been years since I’ve laid eyes on you. I’m so glad you’ve come home to roost, and at just the right time. Don’t know what these two old buzzards would do without you and Sawyer.”

“It’s about time y’all got here,” Polly hollered from one of two recliners in the living room. “Gladys called and said you were bringing doughnuts, and my mouth has been watering ever since. Bring ’em in here and have one with us. Verdie already made coffee, but she could make a cup of hot chocolate if you want one.”

Sawyer set one box on the table beside Polly and carried the other through an archway into the kitchen. “I’d take a cup of coffee, but nothing more. Jill and I had tortilla soup and ice cream. We’ve got a box of doughnuts in the truck to take to the bunkhouse for a midnight snack.”

Jill sat down on the sofa and turned to face Polly. “You’re lookin’ good today.”

Polly patted her hair. “Verdie fixed it for me and painted my fingernails too. It makes a difference to have on some clothes and not nightgowns, and to get fixed up a little. I feel human again.”

Verdie set a cup of coffee beside the doughnuts and picked up a chocolate-iced one with multicolored sprinkles. “I was going to go on a diet this week, but I can’t resist doughnuts.”

“Diet, hell!” Polly fussed. “We’re past eighty, woman. None of us need to diet. We should be eating what we want, and dying when we’re supposed to.”

“Just for the record, she made me cut the leg down the side of that pair of overalls.” Verdie sat down on the other recliner.

“They’re my overalls. I was lost without my bib pockets. You can all be thankful I made her cut them at the seam and not off right above the knee. An old woman’s varicose veins are not a pretty sight to see. Might ruin your appetite for doughnuts.” She reached for a second one.

“So tell me”—Verdie smiled, and part of the wrinkles disappeared—“how was your tortilla soup?”

Sawyer brought two cups of coffee from the kitchen and handed one to Jill. “It was great. I understand in a few weeks they are having some kind of Valentine’s Day special thing in Gainesville. We should put Polly in a wheelchair and go check it out.”

“Hell, no! By Valentine’s, I’ll have this cast off, and I can maneuver with a pair of crutches. I’m not letting this get me down, Sawyer.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned. “I see where Jill gets her stubborn streak.”

“That ain’t from me. She got that from Gladys,” Polly protested.

“Got what from me?” Gladys came through the back door.

“Your stubborn streak,” Verdie hollered.

“Bullshit. That came from her grandpa. All three of them Cleary boys could put a Missouri mule to shame. What did you do to that perfectly good pair of overalls?”

Verdie pointed. “She made me do it.”

“I missed my pockets,” Polly said.

Jill glanced from one to the other. All different in looks. Best friends since they were little girls. The solid foundation of Burnt Boot that kept some kind of sanity amongst a feud. And she was so glad she could claim kin to two of them, and shirttail kin to the other one.

Chapter 10

“I can’t believe they hadn’t heard about Kinsey. The whole town knew when I arrived and when you moved into the bunkhouse,” Jill said.

“I didn’t know, and you didn’t know I was living in the bunkhouse. Maybe rumor-spreading is selective.” He grinned. “Which reminds me, you owe me a kiss.”

She picked up a bar rag and cleaned the area around the beer machine. “Want to collect it now?”

“No, ma’am. I want it later.”

“But what if I decide to give you a peck on the cheek instead of a wild, passionate kiss? What difference would it make if it was now or later?”

“I want to have a while to enjoy the anticipation, no matter where I get the kiss,” he said.

The words were barely out of his mouth when her phone rang.

She answered it. “Hello, Aunt Polly.” And then there was a long pause before she said, “The doors are open, but nobody is here.”

Sawyer walked up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. When she tried to wiggle free, he said, “Don’t get all hyper. I want to hear what Polly is saying. I caught something about Kinsey Brennan.”

“Aunt Polly, I’m putting it on speakerphone until and unless someone comes in.” Jill laid the phone on the counter, but Sawyer did not remove his arms.

“Y’all are in deep shit. Kinsey is telling everyone that Gladys is going to fire Sawyer,” Polly said.

“Why?” Jill asked.

“For sleeping with you. She says that y’all were totally inappropriate in public, carryin’ on like a couple of teenagers all gaga over each other on the street and in the little café. And she says that you slobbered in her ice cream, and that you threatened her. They tried to get a restraining order on you, but Quaid pitched a fit and said that he was going to marry you and how could he even date you if there was a restraining order and besides all that, the sheriff said they didn’t have enough evidence for one. It would just be her word against yours.”

“Well, dammit! I wish the sheriff would let the whole family have their restraining order. You reckon they’ll bring the feud to the bar?”

“Think, Jill!” Sawyer said.

“What?” She whipped around to face him.

“If they did, it would halve the business in the bar. It’s all hot air, Polly, because she made the first threat, and Jill stood up to her. Evidently the Brennans don’t take rejection too well.”

“There’s a sawed-off shotgun under the beer machine. Just open up the doors, and you’ll see it, along with a box of shells. Get it out if it starts to look rowdy,” Polly said. “Friday nights are usually hopping, and that’s before Kinsey got her damned feelin’s hurt. Everyone loves a good fight, gossip, and cold beer. You know what old Billy Currington says: ‘Beer is good. God is great, and people are crazy,’ or something like that.”