Jan Hudson – The Sheriff (страница 9)

“No, sweetie. Christmas isn’t for a long time. Why do you ask?”

“’Cause so many nice people brought presents to us.”

“It is like Christmas, isn’t it?” Mary Beth smiled and hugged her daughter. “And these very nice people are old friends from when I was growing up here. It’s a custom to bring food and gifts if someone is sick or if there’s a funeral or if someone is new to town. This is their way of being neighborly, of welcoming us to Naconiche.” And she had felt welcomed. These were old friends, caring people holding open their arms to her. Their offerings hadn’t felt like charity at all. It was simply small-town neighborliness, and she’d love being able to spend a bit of time with every one of them and renew old ties. She kissed the top of Katy’s head. “I feel very welcome, don’t you?”

Katy nodded. “I like it here. Are we going to stay?”

“I think so. At least for a while. Would you like that? You don’t mind living in a restaurant?”

“It’s kind of funny, but remember what you always say?”

“What’s that?”

“We can think of it as a ’venture.”

Mary Beth laughed and hugged her again. “Yes, it’s really an adventure. Dixie tells me that there’s a preschool at the church. How about we get you enrolled so you can have some children to play with.”

Katy’s eyes lit up. “When? Now?”

“I’ll call tomorrow.”

Her daughter threw her arms around Mary Beth. “I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you, too, Katy.”

THAT EVENING after a sumptuous dinner, Mary Beth sat on a bench out front of the restaurant and watched Katy chase lightning bugs.

“I got another one, Mommy!”

“Wonderful! Bring it here and put it in the jar.” She opened the top, and Katy dropped the glowing insect inside.

“I’ll get some more,” Katy said, bounding off. “This is fun.”

“Catch one more, then it’s time to get ready for bed.”

Mary Beth smiled, love welling up as she watched her daughter run off with endless energy. For the first time since she’d learned about Brad’s awful crime, she began to feel at peace. And hopeful. Coming here had been good. Getting back to her roots and being among people who cared for her was renewing her strength. This old place might not be much, but it was hers, and somehow she would make something of it—and of herself. For so long it seemed that things had gone from bad to worse, one catastrophe after another. Now, deep inside, she sensed that she’d turned a corner and her life was going to turn around.

That was before the first clap of thunder.

And before the rain.

Chapter Four

The first drop hit her on the forehead, the second on the nose. Mary Beth shot up and bolted from her bed.

She immediately stumbled and went sprawling.

She’d forgotten the blasted cast. Muttering a few choice words, she shook herself awake. A storm rattled the windows, and a steady drip of water plopped on her pillow.

After pulling her bed to a safe spot, she checked on Katy, who was fast asleep and dry. Grabbing her crutches, she hurried to the kitchen and grabbed a stockpot. There was a steady leak over the stove. She shoved another pot under that drip, left one crutch behind and hobbled back to the leak as quickly as she could. Quietly she set the pot on the floor of the nook she’d made into their bedroom. The tinny ping-ping-ping of the drops against the aluminum seemed awfully loud, but Katy didn’t stir.

Not wanting to disturb Katy with a bright light, she made her way around the place using only the illumination from their small lamp, the neon sign behind the bar and the light that spilled from the kitchen. She located another three leaks in the restaurant: one in the men’s room and two others in the dining area. When she had placed containers under all the places that dripped, she tossed her soaked pillow on a table and fell back into bed sweating from the effort.

Rain came down in torrents, beating against the windows, the wind howling as if in rage. Lightning flashed and thunder cracked, boomed and rolled. The storm sounded very close. She counted between the lightning flashes and the thunderclaps, trying to judge how far away the center of the storm was. It was close.

Another deafening crack and boom shook the walls.

The lights went out. She slapped her hand against her chest, trying to contain her runaway heart.

Water dripping into the pots sounded like a discordant steel-drum band. Windows rattled with the wind and rain pelted the panes.

Except for an occasional flash from outside, everything was dark as a tomb. The air grew heavy and she had a hard time breathing.

She hated storms.

And the dark.

Then, between the steady plop-plop-plop, she heard a rustling, scurrying sound.

Her heart almost stopped.

She wanted to scream bloody murder and run somewhere, anywhere. Instead she pulled the quilt over her head and prayed, filling the time until morning.

“MOMMY, MOMMY, WAKE UP.”

Mary Beth opened a bleary eye as Katy shook her. She must have dropped off to sleep sometime after the storm passed.

“Are you awake? Sheriff J.J. is here.”

“Where?” she asked, throwing an arm over her eyes to avoid the morning light.

“Here,” J.J.’s deep voice answered from the foot of her bed.

She grabbed for the quilt and raised herself up on her elbows. There he stood, hat shoved back and thumbs hooked over the front of his gun belt.

“How did you get in?” she asked.

“The usual way. I knocked. Katy opened the door. Here I am. We had a heck of a storm last night. Trees down everywhere. I was just checking to see if you were okay, and if your power was on. Some areas lost electricity for a few hours.”

She glanced at the neon sign behind the bar. It hummed and glowed its usual red. “It was off for a while, but the power seems to be back on now.”

He stared pointedly at the huge pot on the floor. It was nearly full of water. “Looks like you had a leak.”

“I had several. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“I’ve had coffee, thank you. I need to see about some other folks in the county. Want me to empty those pots for you?”

“I can manage, thank you.”

He snorted. “Like hell you can. That one alone must weigh thirty pounds.”

“Sheriff J.J. said an ugly word,” Katy whispered loudly.

“I noticed.”

“Sorry about that. I can see I need to clean up my language. Please accept my most profound apologies, ladies.” He took off his hat and swept a low bow.

Mary Beth rolled her eyes while Katy giggled.

He hefted the big stockpot near Mary Beth’s bed and strode toward the kitchen. In a minute, he returned to take the other containers to the kitchen. She merely sat in bed with the quilt wrapped around her and watched.

His task finished, he came to the foot of her bed. “Need anything else?”

“No, I can manage, but thank you very much,” she said stiffly.

“You’ve got a rat in one of your traps.”

Her stomach turned over.

He tipped his hat. “Ladies, I’ll be going now.”

Darn his hide if he didn’t turn and sashay toward the door with that loose-hipped walk of his. “J.J.!”

He turned and gave her an innocent “Yes?”

“Would, uh—would you mind disposing of the—uh—uh—”

“Rat?”