by Katie Lane
Cheyenne’s face turned bright red, and Emma felt bad for the young girl and started to jump in. But Boone’s hand on her arm stopped her, and she realized he was right. Cheyenne needed to know there would be no second chances if she got caught shoplifting again.
“I did shoplift, Mr. Murphy,” Cheyenne said. “But only because I was too embarrassed to buy a box of . . . tampons. Still, it was wrong. And I give you and Miss Johansen my word that it won’t happen again.”
Boone glanced at Emma. “What do you think? Should we give this young lady a chance to prove herself?”
“I think we could try it and see how she does.” Emma looked at Cheyenne. “You can start after Memorial Day, but only with your father’s permission.”
Cheyenne’s face fell. “Do you have to get my dad’s consent?”
So Cal didn’t know about his daughter’s job search. Emma wished she could keep Cheyenne’s secret. The young girl only wanted to help her father. But as a businesswoman, Emma knew she would have to get the father’s permission before she hired Cheyenne.
“I’m sorry, Cheyenne, but—”
“I’ll talk to Cal,” Boone said. “I might be able to get him to agree.”
Cheyenne didn’t look optimistic. “Thank you, but my daddy doesn’t listen to anyone. I’m sorry to have taken your time.” Before Emma could stop her, she walked out the door.
When she was gone, Emma sighed. “Poor thing. She just wants to help her daddy. And it would’ve been a way for us to help their family. They’ve been through so much.”
“There’s still a chance I can talk Cal into it,” Boone said.
“I doubt it. Cal Daily is as stubborn as you are.”
He flashed a smile. “So I guess our truce is over.”
“No. We still need to pretend like we like each other—at least when people are around.”
“And when they’re not around, you’re still going to be the angry badger?”
She rolled her eyes and headed for the back to finish the bookkeeping. But before she could reach the doorway, he stopped her.
“Em?”
She hesitated and waited for some wisecrack. Instead, she got something completely unexpected . . . and eleven years too late.
“I’m sorry I made you cry at senior prom.”
Chapter Four
Dixon’s Boardinghouse was the most historic building in Simple. The large plantation-style home had been built in the eighteen hundreds by a rich cattle baron for his new bride. The bride had gotten cold feet and left Thomas Dixon at the altar. Which worked out well since he was really in love with his housekeeper, Gray Dove. Dix and Dovey married that very day and lived happily ever after.
Boone no longer believed in happily ever afters, but he loved the old house for its history and southern charm. Reba and Val Sterling ran the boardinghouse and were good folks. Val was one of the Double Diamond bad boys who always had time for a beer and a story. He was a famous suspense writer who now wrote ghost stories for middle school kids. Reba had gone to school with Boone and was a hardworking woman with a heart as big as Texas. Like Boone, she had inherited her parents’ business. And like Boone, she was stuck sharing it with an ill-tempered woman.
Although Reba’s aunt was much scarier than Emma.
“What has you sneaking around the boardinghouse like a thief, Boone Murphy?”
Boone stopped in his tracks and glanced up at the wide veranda that wrapped around the house. Miss Gertie sat in a rocking chair with her cat, Rhett Butler, on her lap. The cat was as ornery as its owner. Boone had made the mistake of trying to pick Butler up when he was a kitten and he’d received numerous scratches and a bite for his effort.
“Hi, Miss Gertie.” Boone pulled off his cowboy hat. Miss Gertie was a stickler about manners. “I was just walking around to the garage to talk with Cal.”
Miss Gertie snorted. “That’s what you get for buying a Dodge. Everyone knows Ford makes the best trucks.”
“Actually, it’s not about my truck.”
“Then what’s it about? I hope you don’t think you’re going to start treating this like a beer joint like you do your place of business.”
He wasn’t surprised Miss Gertie knew about his beer socials. The woman knew everything that went on in the town. Which was why he told her the truth.
“No, ma’am. I’m just here to see if Cal will let Cheyenne come work at the store for me.”
Miss Gertie perked up. “Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place, instead of wasting my time?” She flapped a hand at him. “Go on then. And don’t you take no for an answer. Young kids need a good job to keep them out of trouble. When you’re finished talking to Cal, you come right back here. I have a job for you.”
Boone mentally cringed. Miss Gertie’s jobs could be anything from holding her yarn while she rolled it into a ball to cleaning out the gutters. Which was why he steered clear of the old woman. But it was too late to run now.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said before he pulled his hat on and headed around to the garage.
He found Cal looking under the hood of an old Chrysler Lebaron. “Hey, Cal.”
Cal drew his head out and smiled when he saw Boone. “Hey, Boone. What are you doing here? Did Val and Reba invite you for dinner?”
“I wish.” Reba was a damn good cook, and Val was an even better baker. Everyone in town coveted an invitation to the boardinghouse for dinner. “It’s frozen dinners again for me tonight.”
Cal pulled a rag out of the back pocket of his jeans and wiped his hands. “You and me both. Cheyenne wants to cook dinner for us. But after the fire, I’m a little nervous about her using the stove when I’m not there.”
Talk about an overprotective father. It looked like Boone had his work cut out for him. “It wasn’t like she started the fire, Cal.”
“I know. I’m just more comfortable with her throwing frozen dinners into the microwave when I get home. So what has you stopping by? Don’t tell me you’re having trouble with that new Dodge.”
“No. It’s running like a champ.” He paused and tried to figure out a good way to start the conversation. When he couldn’t think of one, he just got straight to the point. “Cheyenne came into the store this morning looking for a summer job.”
Cal hesitated for a second before he stuffed the rag in his pocket. “She doesn’t need a job. We’re doing just fine.”
“I guess she wants to help you get the old gas station.”
Cal sighed. “I don’t know how I got such a good-hearted kid.”
Boone grinned at his friend. “I do.”
“Thank you, but she doesn’t need a job. I want her to enjoy her summer. I don’t want her working all the time like her old man.”
“Maybe that’s why she wants to help you. Maybe she wants you two to have more time together this summer.”
“I won’t have to work two jobs for long. Just until I can pay off some bills and improve my credit score.” Cal lowered his gaze as his cheeks turned red. “It was damn embarrassing to be turned down at the Simple Bank for my bad credit. Poor Jolene Applegate was as embarrassed as I was when she told me my loan had been declined. I’m sure I’ll be the main topic at the Simple Book Club this month and all those ladies will be trying to figure out how they can help poor Cal Daily.” He lifted his gaze. “I’ve become Simple’s main charity case and I won’t have people thinking my daughter has to work for us to make ends meet.”
“People aren’t going to think that, Cal. Lots of kids work during the summer for extra money.”
“Cheyenne isn’t going to be one of them.”
Boone should’ve given up and thrown in the towel. The only thing that kept him from it was his strong desire to help the Daily family. That, and not wanting to admit defeat to Emma. But if he wanted to convince Cal, he needed to take a different approach. Suddenly, Miss Gertie’s words about jobs keeping kids out of trouble popped into his head and gave him an idea.
“You’re probably right, Cal
,” he said. “Teenagers should just be kids and have fun. Emma and I worked at the hardware store every summer and didn’t have near as much fun as other kids. I missed out on almost every wild swimming party. No smoking cigarettes. No drinking beer. No rubbing sunscreen on all those girls in their itty bitty bikinis.” When a concerned look entered Cal’s eyes, Boone knew he was on the right track. “While most teenagers were partying and having sex when their parents were at work, I was stocking shelves and greeting customers.”
Cal stared at him. “Sex?”
Boone shrugged. “We both know that when kids are home alone, they can get into all kinds of mischief.”
Cal’s face had gone pale. “Well, Cheyenne doesn’t smoke or drink . . . or hang out with boys.”
“That’s good. Then you don’t have to worry about the Fuller boys that live right down the street from you. Talk about bad boys. They put the Double Diamond boys to shame with their carousing and girl chasing.” If the stunned look on Cal’s face was any indication, Boone had just hit his mark. “Well, I better get on home and let you get back to work. Why don’t you come by the store next Friday night for a beer? It’s a causal thing. A few of the Double Diamond boys usually stop by to talk sports, trucks, and horses. Although, with the baby boom, lately, we’ve done more talking about what’s the best diaper brand on the market. Pampers beats Huggies by a two to one bad boy ratio.”
“Sorry, I’m a little too busy,” Cal said absently.
“Suit yourself.” He gave Cal a slap on the shoulder before he turned to leave. He had only taken a few steps when Cal stopped him.
“Maybe Cheyenne should have a summer job.”
Boone wiped the grin from his face before he turned around. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to take away from her teenage fun.”
“She can still have fun. But I think it would be best if she had something to do this summer besides hang out with her friends.”
“Well, if you think it’s best, I’ll be happy to hire her. Tell Cheyenne I’ll see her after Memorial Day.”
Cal nodded. “Thank you, Boone.” He paused. “And will you watch out for her? She’s all I got.”
“You can count on it.” He turned and headed for his truck, hoping that Miss Gertie had gone back inside so he could skip her chore. He should’ve known better.
“Well, how did it go?” she snapped as soon as he came around the front of the house.
He took off his hat and joined her on the porch. “Cheyenne will start after Memorial Day.”
Miss Gertie chuckled. “I always knew you could talk the devil out of his horns, Boone Murphy. Now quit making me crane my neck to look up at you and sit your butt down.”
Careful to keep his distance from Rhett Butler’s claws and teeth, Boone took the rocker next to hers. “What can I do for you, Miss Gertie?”
“I want you to make me one of those pretty cross grave makers.”
Grandpa Sims had taught him carpentry and it had become Boone’s hobby. Working with wood soothed him. Every night after dinner, he went into the garage where he’d set up his workshop and got rid of his pent up frustrations on a piece of wood. After a full day of being with Emma, he had a lot of them.
Over the years, his skills had grown and people had started requesting benches, rockers, and porch swings. A few months back, Mel Foster had asked him to make a grave maker for his favorite horse, Buckeye. Boone had made a cross and engraved a horse’s head on it. After that, everyone wanted a cross for their deceased pet. Since Miss Gertie only had one pet, he figured he knew whom the cross was for.
He glanced at Rhett Butler. “Is he sick?”
“The cross is not for Butler,” Miss Gertie snapped. “He’s got more than a few good years left in him. The cross is for me.”
Boone’s eyes widened. “You? Are you sick, Miss Gertie?”
“No. I’m old. I figure God could call me home anytime now and I want to have things in order when he does. If Reba has her way, I’ll have some mammoth marble headstone weighing me down for all eternity. I don’t want that. I want a simple wooden cross that will eventually decay and go right back to the earth it came from. Like I will.”
“But I usually don’t make grave markers for people, Miss Gertie.”
“You made one for Maisy’s daddy and for your granddaddy.”
Damn, the woman did know everything that went on in the town. “I didn’t know Maisy’s was for her daddy. I thought it was for her dog. And I wouldn’t have done my granddaddy’s if he hadn’t requested it before he died. He made one for my grandmother after she died and wanted me to make an identical one to go with it.”
“Well, what do you think I’m doing? I’m requesting you make me a grave marker before I die.”
Boone had to wonder if Miss Gertie knew more about when she was going to die than she was letting on. He knew she’d collapsed last year and had to be taken to the hospital. Had she collapsed again? Did Reba and Val know about it? Or was Miss Gertie keeping that to herself? Old people did like to keep secrets. Boone’s grandfather had kept his first stroke a secret. If other people had known about it, maybe his grandpa would still be alive. While he had always been scared of Miss Gertie, he respected the hell out of her. She was the matriarch of Simple. The thought of never seeing her shuffle down Main Street again with her hot pink walker and angry cat made him extremely sad.
“Have you been to the doctor lately, Miss Gertie?”
“No, and after my overnight stay in the hospital, I have no intention of going. All they want to do is poke me with needles and run tests. I don’t need a test to tell me I’m old and getting ready to die. Now are you going to make me a cross or will I have to spend eternity beneath a three hundred pound marble angel?”
He wanted to walk into the house and tell Reba to get her great-aunt to the doctor. But he knew that no one would’ve been able to force his grandfather to go to the doctor. So, like he had done with Cal, Boone took a different approach.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “You go to the doctor and I’ll make you a cross—at no charge.”
Miss Gertie was known for being frugal and loving a good deal. He could tell by the look in her eyes that a free grave marker wasn’t something she could pass up. “Like I said, you can talk a preacher out of his pulpit. Now let me tell you exactly what I want.”
He pulled out his cellphone. “First, we call Doc Thomas.”
Miss Gertie snorted. “You’re as ornery as those Double Diamond bad boys.”
“There seems to be a lot of ornery people in Simple.” He tapped the doctor’s number and handed her the phone.
After Miss Gertie made her appointment, Boone took notes on what kind of grave marker she wanted. She wanted a simple cross with just three words.
Love Conquers All.
On the drive to his house, he thought about those words. Growing up, he’d believed them. He’d believed love was the strongest emotion that could conquer anything and last forever. His parents had been a perfect example of that kind of love. Dean and DeeDee Murphy had grown up together. Dean had been the star center for the basketball team and she had been the team water girl. They’d fallen in love their sophomore year and been together ever since. Dean adored DeeDee and DeeDee adored Dean . . . or so Boone had thought until he’d caught his mom kissing another man. That day, his illusions about perfect love had come crashing down.
Love didn’t conquer all.
It was just a weak emotion that made you crazy.
When he got home, Romeo was waiting at the door to greet him. Boone scooped the overweight dog up in his arms and received exuberant doggie kisses as he walked into the kitchen to get them dinner.
Now here was unconditional love.
He filled Romeo’s bowl with food and thought about popping a frozen dinner in the microwave for himself. But in the end, he just made himself a bologna and mustard sandwich, then carried it and a glass of milk up the stairs to his bedroom. He sat down in the chair by the window
and took a few sips of milk before he set the glass on the side table and picked up the pair of binoculars. As he took a bite of his sandwich, he held the binoculars to his eyes and stared out the window at the house behind his.
After a thorough look at all the windows, he found Emma in the kitchen. She still wore the white button-down shirt and slim-cut gray pants she’d worn to work, but she’d removed the blue jean jacket and cuffed the sleeves of her shirt. She stirred something in a pot on the stove as she read a book. Emma had always loved to read. He used to tease her that her nose would one day grow a book because it was always stuck in one. Every room in her house had a bookcase crammed full. She read in the back hammock she’d strung between two oak trees. She read in the rocker on her screened in porch. She read in the kitchen while she ate her dinner. She read in an old sofa in her living room with her bare feet perched on the arm.
Watching Emma read was almost as soothing as working with wood.
She lowered the book and tasted whatever she was cooking. Being that it was Saturday, he would bet it was sauce for lasagna. She usually made lasagna the last Saturday of the month. When she pulled a lasagna pasta box from the cupboard, he mentally high-fived himself.
“I knew it.” He gave Romeo the last bite of sandwich and finished off the rest of his milk before he went back to watching Emma make lasagna.
Once the lasagna was in the oven, she pulled out the makings for a salad. Usually, she just poured a little out of the bag onto a plate. But tonight she poured the entire bag into a bowl and then put it back into the refrigerator. Then she moved into the dining room where she pulled out dishes from the china cabinet.
Romeo whined for more food, and Boone distractedly scratched the dog’s head as he continued to watch. “She must be having company. I bet it’s her book club buddies.”
Except she set the table for two.
“Penny maybe?” Boone guessed. Penny Cassidy and Emma were good friends since high school. But Penny had just had a baby and she and Cru were more than a little busy with their new son and their ranch. Emma was probably having dinner with Jolene Applegate. They had been spending more time together recently. Probably because they were both single.
