by CC Dragon
“How do you do?” Lurlene blushed. “I’m so sorry. We haven’t been introduced. Annabelle Baxter, you have just the worst manners. I’m Lurlene. I’m in beauty school and I work at my daddy’s store.”
“Lurlene, this is Pastor Luke’s younger brother, Pete.” I fulfilled my obligation to introduce and inform.
He shook her hand. “I don’t know why you’re in school—you look like you’ve got that beauty thing nailed down perfect.”
“You flatterer. Now answer my question. What’s the younger brother of a preacher do to make his mama proud?” she asked.
I wanted to down one of those margaritas as I lifted the tray slowly.
“I’m a paramedic and fireman. I worked for my hometown and I’m thinking of maybe moving. You guys have a county system here because things are so spread out, but it’d be a different sort of a challenge,” he said.
“Nice to be near your brother. So sweet,” she replied.
I carried the tray carefully, dodging dancing couples and patrons who felt no pain. Many would be praying to the porcelain god tonight. I caught Luke’s eye as he chatted with Larry in the corner. Why did I feel so bad? I hadn’t done a thing but help my friend. Our church wasn’t one of those super-strict, no drinking, no dancing groups—a good solid Christian church was all. I held my head up high and steadied the tray, but someone had spilled on the edge of the dancefloor as I neared the stage.
Gus hopped down. “Let go.” I released my grip on the drinks but fell flat on my backside.
The whole place erupted in applause, laughs and whistles. Martha rushed over and helped me up. Then she took the tray from Gus and delivered the drinks. My face felt like I’d suffered a facial treatment in hell, it burned so hot. I took the bar towel I’d had slung over my shoulder and wiped up the spill.
“You okay?” Gus asked.
“Fine. Thanks for saving the drinks.” I headed back to the bar.
Gus followed. “I’d have grabbed you, but then you’d have been wearing all those drinks and I’d be holding you up. Don’t think your boyfriend would like that. I couldn’t save you both and I’m sure you didn’t want to remake the drinks.”
“I know it’s the south, but can you not act like some good old boy who cared what my boyfriend thinks? How about what I think?” I asked.
“Sorry, I assumed you wouldn’t want frozen drinks down the front of your shirt. Katie runs a decent place—never saw her run a wet T-shirt contest or anything.” He winked. “You’d win, of course.”
I slapped him across the face.
The patrons gasped and I froze.
“Sorry, but that was inappropriate talk for a man so recently engaged to another woman and who calls himself sheriff,” I shot back.
I marched back to the bar and avoided Katie’s gaze.
“Did you just slap your ex-boyfriend?” Pete asked.
“He was never officially a boyfriend,” I corrected.
Katie sauntered up next to me. “You just slapped a customer.”
Luke walked over and shot me a look worse than Katie’s. “We should go, Pete.”
“It’s not what it looked like,” I defended myself.
“You slapped the sheriff,” Katie added.
“But I didn’t slap the deputies.” I parodied that old song about shooting the sheriff, hoping for a laugh. “You’re going to comp his tab anyway. I’ll pay for it.”
Katie leaned on the bar. “Are you okay?”
“Maybe we should drive her home?” Pete offered.
“I have my own car,” I replied. “But thanks.”
“We’re going. Good night.” Luke grabbed his brother by the arm and they left.
“Dibs on the little brother,” Lurlene said.
“Why don’t you go after Gus and save me the drama?” I asked.
Lurlene chuckled. “I wouldn’t try to take a bone from a dog he’s so attached to. That’s how you get bit.”
“I’m the bone…or the dog? Nice,” I shot back.
“You know what I mean,” she replied.
I turned to Lurlene and counted to five before I opened my mouth. “You’re smarter than I gave you credit for. Gus is a mess. Maybe he’s hung up on his former fiancée or maybe it’s someone new, but it’s not me. What guy doesn’t like to play the hero?”
Lurlene lifted a dismissive shoulder. “I called dibs on the pastor’s brother. Be careful or we’ll be sisters-in-law.”
I shared a look with Katie. “That would be something to write home about.”
Katie snort-laughed. “You need to be nice to Gus. If you want to go, it’s fine. Patch things up with Luke.”
“No. I don’t know why he’s being so weird about me helping a friend, but I’m not going to act like a nun or something. I’d help my friends do anything. I mean, not rob a bank, but anything legal.”
Martha laughed. “Nuns can drink. The priest from that church one town over is in at that table by the jukebox. I think the pastor is just overcompensating for something in his past by trying to make sure you look angelically perfect.”
I shook my head. “I’ll never be that good.”
“Gus wouldn’t want you to be.” Lurlene winked.
“I think it’s time you switched to coffee.” I grabbed her a mug.
“Mean.” She pouted, not really drunk yet but looking tipsy.
“You want to be able to drive home or should I call your momma? I’m sure she’ll see all this and jerk you back to Jesus by your extensions.” I grabbed the coffee pot.
“Drive home. I want to enjoy the music here, like you.” She pointed to the coffee.
I liked the music. Gus was a good guitarist. This wasn’t a trashy bar with drugs or hookers hanging out. This was a place I could bring Gran to watch the band play if she wanted. Whatever problem Luke had, we had to sort it out, because not helping my friends or family? That was wrong. Far more wrong than serving a bit of alcohol.
Lurlene said something.
“What?” I asked as I put the pot back.
“Can I get an ice water too?” she asked.
“Sure.” I set out a glass of ice and grabbed the water gun. I filled the glass and poured myself one as well. “Lime or lemon?”
Lurlene waved it off.
I added a squeeze of lime to my water then added a straw.
Gus walked up to the bar. “Just checking if you’re okay. My face has recovered, even if my ego is still a bit bruised.”
I smiled and took a sip of water. “I’m fine, thanks. Your face got what it asked for.”
“So, Sheriff, who was this fiancée?” Lurlene asked.
Gus ignored the question. “Can I get a water?”
“Sure.” I grabbed him a glass and added a straw.
“You want to come up and join us?” Gus asked.
I grabbed the soda gun and fumbled it, spraying him with a seltzer water. Much as I loved music, performing left me with jitters in some venues.
“Sorry. I— No. No, thanks.” I tossed a towel to him and filled the glass with water.
“The keyboard is all set up.” Katie pointed.
I shook my head. “He means sing.”
“The guys in the band say they’ve heard you singing to yourself and you’re good. You’re the one who let them camp on your property then works in the kitchen with the windows open. Don’t get mad,” he teased.
“I’m not going up there,” I insisted.
Gus grabbed his water. “Our loss.”
“You’re going up there with a wet shirt? We’re not that kind of place,” Katie teased.
“I didn’t bring a change of clothes. Did Miss Belle do that to get me shirtless?” he teased.
“Please, I’m surprised you’re wearing shoes. You’re so country you think Deliverance is a rom com.” I wiped up the bar and ignored the teasing.
Katie grabbed for something under the bar. “This should fit you.” She tossed him the same T-shirt that the employees wore.
“Thank
you kindly, ma’am.” He took off his cowboy hat, yanked off his wet shirt and slowly tugged on the new one.
The flashes of cameras and cat calls from women changed the feel of the room in a way I didn’t personally care for.
“You’re the sheriff. You know that, right—you set an example?” I taunted him.
Katie nudged me. “Be nice.”
He tossed his wet shirt at my head.
I snatched it out of the air before it hit my face, but I had to admit to myself that his shirt smelled good!
Chapter Two
I hopped out of bed bright and early the next morning and got ready before the sun rose. Freshly showered and made up, I put on an old shirt and shorts for baking. All night I’d tossed and turned thinking of the Gus and Luke drama. Shirtless Gus was a nice view, but I didn’t need those types of dreams.
We had a ton of fruit from local lemon trees, so I went with the obvious and made lemon cupcakes and lemon bars for after service and the shop. I checked our fruit inventory and found a lot of cranberries. As the cupcakes cooled, I whipped up lemon and cranberry muffins and put them in the hot oven. I’d add those big sugar grains once they were out of the oven to give them that fancy look and add sweetness.
The barking of my gran’s new puppy signaled that they were up and moving.
“Morning,” I greeted. The coffee machine fired up for a fresh pot—Gran had it programmed and had clearly synced it with her routine. Meanwhile, I started on the frosting for the cupcakes.
“Morning, dear. What are you doing?” She padded into the kitchen wearing her Tennessee Volunteer slippers and a worn old robe.
“I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to get a jump on these. Hope you weren’t going to use the lemons and cranberries for anything else?” I asked.
“No, it smells wonderful. We should get more cooling racks at home if you’re going to go on baking binges,” she said.
I folded up some boxes then tested the cupcakes and bars. They were cool enough. I gave the cupcakes a quick layer of vanilla icing and a thin layer on the bars. Then I swapped out to the lemon gel icing bag and decorated the cupcakes before giving the lemon bars a dash each.
“Sundays are busy and I’d rather have more than not enough. What else do you have too much of?” I asked.
“Mrs. Fryer dropped off a bunch of cherries, but they have to be pitted. Maybe something apple?” Gran suggested.
“That’s peeling and coring—not today.” I looked in the laundry room that was kept shaded and cool and blocked off from the dog. The apples looked good. We could do those tomorrow when we had a full day at work. I saw a few bunches of very yellow bananas and grabbed them.
“Banana bread?” I teased.
“I’ll eat it all before we get to church.” She smacked her lips and poured a cup of coffee for each of us. “How was last night?”
“Fine. Busy. Katie’s place is very nice and the band is popular.”
“Good. You’re such a good helper. You play piano at the church and help afterward. Don’t overdo it. Sometimes you have to make choices. Luke is a good man. Handsome and nice.” Gran snuck a lemon bar.
“He dropped in last night at the bar with his younger brother, Pete. Luke really doesn’t seem to like it when I help out the at the bar. He always comes in to check on me,” I said.
“That’s nice. Sometimes drunk men are hard to handle. I know Katie has her brothers bouncing, but it’s sweet for a boyfriend to worry.” Gran smiled.
I frowned and added some creamer to my coffee. “No, Gran. It’s not like he’s visiting with people and just there if something happens. It’s like he’s watching me and my behavior. Like I’m there partying or getting drunk,” I explained.
Gran pursed her lips. “He said to me he understood your background and that he liked how helpful you were.”
“He does. I don’t think it’s my parents he’s holding against me…he thinks I’m too wild or something. I’m not going to not help my friends or visit with people because it’s a bar.” I gave the batter a final thorough mixing before pouring it into loaf pans.
“Maybe he’s thinking too far ahead too fast?” she asked.
“Meaning?” I prompted.
“Well, he can’t date and date in his own congregation. If he’s thinking marriage, then it he might be wondering if you’ll cut your schedule to focus on all of the responsibilities of a pastor’s wife. It’s a thankless job and you don’t get paid, so it’s not for everyone,” Gran admitted.
The oven dinged and I took out the muffins and put in the banana bread.
“Am I wrong?” she asked.
“No, I wasn’t thinking that far into it. We weren’t that serious.”
“But he has to be or people will think he’s taking advantage of a lot of young women. Just think of it like that and let him know how you feel about it. Balancing your work with me at the shop, helping with all the church events and outreaches and helping your friends—something will have to give. I can do the shop alone, but you seem to love it,” Gran said.
“No, the shop is our business. I’m not giving that up. I’m not giving up my friends or helping when they need a hand. They’ve been there for me when I needed help. If he just wants a wife to take on a lot of work he should be doing or volunteers are doing, then he’s after a wife for the wrong reasons,” I said.
“Men’s lives generally are made easier by marriage. Cooking, cleaning and all that social stuff—it’s just what women do.” Gran sighed.
I shook my head. “Running a family is one thing. An unpaid church job and all the wife work? No thanks.”
“Talk to him before you jump to any conclusions or reactions.”
I nodded. “I know you’re right. With how my mom was, I’m probably better off being a single career woman. We’ll franchise this thing and have our own show on the cooking channel.”
Gran tested a muffin. “Sure, dear. Whatever you want.”
Assessing my leftovers, I made a banana and cranberry loaf and tossed it into the oven then took the banana bread out to cool. I started packing up the cool treats for transport. Finally, I set some of the lemon stuff aside for the shop afterward.
“You’re not happy,” Gran said.
“I’m just thinking right now,” I replied.
She finished her cup of coffee then put it in the sink. “Well, it’s important to find out what makes people tick. If he’s more interested in appearances than substance, you need to be rid of him. If he’s in a real rush, also get rid of him.”
I’d never expected Gran to say ‘dump the pastor’, but that was exactly what she’d advised. She didn’t want to see me make a mistake and end up divorced quickly. I wasn’t going to rush into anything.
* * * *
After the Sunday morning church service, I set out the treats and helped open the food pantry. Harry, one of Katie’s brothers, drove up in a big refrigerated truck.
“Never look a gift horse in the mouth, but what’s going on?” I asked.
Martha grinned. “The grocery store owner decided to donate anything getting close to expiration. They know the rules and that you don’t have storage, so they sent it over today and people can decide what they want, what they’ll be able to use safely before it’s officially expired. Harry offered to drive it over and bring back what doesn’t go and it’ll end up in the dumpster.”
“That’s very nice. A little notice would’ve helped us to organize this. I hope we have enough men to help unload. No one will want to ruin their Sunday clothes,” I teased.
Martha had dressed up a little extra. “Harry’s brothers and the deputies are here. Gus made a show of his muscles at the bar—he’ll help.” Martha smiled.
I rolled my eyes at her. “It was an accident. I shouldn’t be allowed to tend bar unless it’s coffee. No one would let me waitress ever.”
“Or ice cream,” one of Martha’s daughters piped up.
“Ice cream bar? I like the sound of that,” I replied.
Luke walked up. “This is a blessing.”
“Very kind. The Heavenly Hazelnut is the flavor of the day, if you want to swing by the shop after,” I suggested.
“My favorite. Thanks, but my brother wants to see some of the town. We’ll see if we have time to stop in. I would like to have dinner tonight, if you’re free,” he offered.
“Sure. Where?” I asked.
“I’ll text you. I’m not sure. I’ll get reservations somewhere nice,” he said.
“With your brother?” I asked.
“No, he made some friends already. He’ll probably be the bar or over in Nashville. Just us.” Luke smiled.
He was handsome and nice. The guy was solid and comfortable talking to lots of people, but that didn’t mean he was right for me.
“Okay, let me know.” I went back to helping inventory the items as they came off the truck.
Martha was blushing and flirting with Harry, and the men went to work bringing the products down. It’d be helpful for the families.
One of the choir ladies walked up. “All this eggs and cream—I might do my own baking,” she joked.
“Any little bit helps, right, Megan?” I asked. “If wishes were horses, I guess the poor are riding today.”
She was a member of the choir, so I knew her well enough that she was on the food pantry list. A nice single woman who needed a better job and was looking in Nashville. I felt bad for her.
“Absolutely. Have you seen Shelley?” she asked.
“No, not this week at all.” I shrugged. She had two kids, so it was hard to miss her if they’d attended service. “Maybe one of the kids is sick?”
Megan muttered something that sounded like vague agreement then moved on to get some of the donated dairy stuff.
Gran shuffled up to me. “I think we need to go back to the shop. Get the stuff going.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
“You’re not going to say goodbye to the pastor?” she asked.
“He’s busy. We have dinner plans. I’ll deal with things then,” I reassured her.
Gran checked her phone but said nothing.
* * * *
The day had flown by, with lemon goodies being more popular than I’d imagined. Primped and put together for a nice place, I had no idea where I was going, so I’d had to put it in my phone GPS. I parked my well-worn white pickup outside of a nice Italian-style restaurant then touched up my lipstick.
