Bachelor In Blue Jeans

“No.”

He shoved it under the cash register. “All right, then add it to your donation or use it for a bookmark.”

She paused for a moment, then nodded, knowing that if she kept refusing, they’d be at this all day. “Thank you. I’ll see that the hospital auxiliary gets it. Now, if there’s nothing else, I need to get back to work.”

“There is something else.”

Kristin waited.

“Before we spoke last night, Maybelle Parker collared me.”

“Yes, I know. I saw her.”

“She said we were expected to join the other bachelors and their dates for a dinner cruise on Lake Edward in two weeks. Are you planning to go?”

She was stunned that he would even ask. “With you?”

“You did buy me.”

Kristin kept her tone even. “I did not buy you, I made a donation to the Children’s Christmas Fund. I thought you understood that.”

“So you said. But it was a pretty hefty donation. Are you sure you didn’t expect something more?”

This time she couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice. “I have no expectations where you’re concerned. I’m not going on the cruise. But if you’re interested, by all means, feel free to ask someone else.”

“I’m not interested.” Zach returned his wallet to his back pocket. “I’ll only be here for a few weeks, and I’ll need most of that time to get my aunt’s house in shape for a Realtor. I don’t have time for cruises.”

“Really?” she asked, irked again. “Would you have answered the same way if I’d said I wanted to attend?”

“Looking for a fight, Kris?” he asked curiously. “We used to be pretty good at it.”

The arrival of another customer stopped her reply, and for the second time in minutes, Kristin was glad for the interruption. She was even happier to see Chad, but probably for all the wrong reasons.

“Hi,” she called, smiling.

“Hi,” Chad called back cheerfully. “You look pretty this morning. How’s my best girl?”

“Full of energy,” she answered, letting the “best girl” thing slide.

Zach watched Hollister amble toward them, happy to return the jerk’s frigid nod as he carried a take-out bag to the sales counter. He eased as close to Kristin as the counter allowed, an intimate smile on his lips as he unloaded coffee in foam cups, stir sticks and creamers.

This morning, the chief was all decked out in his uniform—dark gray shirt with black epaulets and pocket flaps, black pants, and lots of shiny silver buttons. There was more crime-fighting paraphernalia hanging from his utility belt than Batman’s.

Zach found himself disliking Hollister more with every passing second. Maybe because he’d figuratively elbowed Zach out of the way. Or maybe because Chad was fixing Kristin’s coffee from memory.

Hollister spoke cordially to Zach as he stirred cream into Kristin’s cup, though there was no mistaking the “get lost” message in his green eyes. “Sorry, but I didn’t bring enough for company. If I’d known you were here, I’d have ordered another cup.”

Sure he would have. “Thanks just the same, but I’ve already had my quota for the day.”

“Early riser, are you?”

The question sounded like an accusation. In fact, everything he said sounded like an accusation. Zach’s edginess increased.

Kristin cleared her throat. “I had an interesting call from Anna Mae’s cousin a few minutes ago, Chad. Apparently, all the legal issues have been wrapped up, and Mrs. Arnett’s now free to sell the house and its contents.”

Hollister handed her a foam cup. “Bet she’s relieved to get on with it. She and her son have been back and forth a lot in the past few weeks.” He frowned wryly. “Weird people, those two.”

Zach stilled. How many Anna Maes could there be in a town this size? “Are you talking about Anna Mae Kimble?”

Chad took a cautious sip of hot coffee, then favored Zach with his attention again. “She was the department’s secretary for years,” he said sympathetically. “She passed away last month.”

Zach felt a stab of regret as a childhood memory of Anna Mae moved through his mind, and once again he was grateful for her kindness. “What happened?”

“It was an accident,” Chad said. “I don’t like speaking ill of the dead, particularly when the deceased was a good friend. But apparently Anna Mae had a little too much sherry the night she died. She fell in her home. Struck her head on a coffee table.”

The entry bell chimed again, and a solemn, bow-tied, older man Zach recognized entered the shop. Harlan Greene was the town’s perennial tax collector, having served in that position for decades. According to Etta, he still held the job.

Harlan waved to them, then frowning, perused the selection of Amish baked goods.

Chad continued in a lower voice. “According to the coroner, Anna Mae died instantly.”

“I’m sorry,” Zach murmured, meaning it. “She was a nice woman.” Nicer than a cocky teenage kid had deserved.

Harlan carried a package of cinnamon rolls to the counter and handed Kristin several bills. The sadness in his eyes was unmistakable. “She was the salt of the earth,” he said. “Guess that Arnett woman will be sellin’ off her things any day now.”

“Looks that way,” Chad replied, then glanced at Kristin. “I take it that’s why Mrs. Arnett phoned you this morning?”

Kristin counted out Harlan’s change, then nodded hesitantly, wishing Chad had waited until Harlan had gone to bring that up. “She wondered if I might be interested in buying a few of Anna Mae’s pieces. I’m meeting her at the house this evening.”

“Won’t find anything of value over there,” Harlan said huskily, pocketing his coins. “Leastwise, nothing that would work in your shop.” He picked up his rolls. “She liked frogs, was all. Frogs on her switch plates, frogs on the canister set, frogs all over the damn house.” As he turned to leave, a bitter tone entered his voice. “No, you won’t find anything worthwhile over there.”

Kristin watched the door close behind him, then followed Harlan’s path past her multipaned bay window until he disappeared. Touched, she turned to Chad. “Did you know about Anna Mae and Harlan?”

He nodded. “She liked him, but she didn’t like his gambling. Gave him his walking papers shortly before she died.” Chad glanced at the cuckoo clock on the wall. “Well, I’d better get to work. Dinner tonight?”

Kristin stared blankly at him. Where had that invitation come from? She also wondered at the offhanded way he’d asked—as if they dined together often, which wasn’t the case.

She felt Zach’s gaze on her, heavy and curious. Suddenly she was uneasy. “I’m sorry, but my plans with Mrs. Arnett aren’t firm. I’ll be touring the house at her convenience.”

“Okay,” Chad replied, shrugging. “I’ll probably see you a little later anyhow. Maybe we can grab some ice cream or something.”

“I…okay,” she answered, still feeling off balance. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“My pleasure. Always.” But instead of leaving, Chad eased back against the counter to finish his coffee and sort through his keys. When he finally glanced up again, both his expression and tone had hardened.

“Why don’t I walk you out, Davis? The sun’s shining. Too beautiful a day to be stuck indoors if you don’t have to be.”

Zach’s eyes were gray steel. “Why don’t you walk yourself out, Hollister? I’m not ready to leave yet.”