Fried Pickles and the Fuzz (6 page)
Read Fried Pickles and the Fuzz Online
Authors: Calico Daniels
Without waiting for a response she turned and pushed open the door to the
café
,
leaving him standing on the sidewalk.
Well, that coulda gone better.
****
Ugh!
Heather groaned as she watched through the front window at Bronson
,
who still stood on the sidewalk outside The Pickle. He remained there, staring at the door for a full minute before he turned and walked slowly back toward the crow
d
s around the animal pens.
She shouldn't have been so abrupt with him. Deep down she knew he was only doi
ng his job. Bronson was a good sheriff. No, a great she
riff. He took his job seriously and still managed to maintain his people skills. Everyone in the county liked him. Well, Mrs. Pearson might be the exception
,
but she didn't like anyone or anything. The old bat wasn't ever happy unless she was causing a stir with one thing or another.
That aside, all Heather ever heard from the locals was nothing but the highest praise for
Bronson and his capability as she
riff. He went out of his
way to help folks. Of course, H
eather didn't need to listen to the local grapevine to know that about him. She spent nearly every evening with him right here in the café, chatting while he ate.
She knew about the local scout group he
'
d taken
on a campout when their troopmaster got sick. About the groceries he bought out of his own pocket every couple weeks for Mr. Beeson. All the little things he did, even the ones he didn't talk about. Like the time he watched the
C
arters
'
s
kids when they went to
dinner
for their anniversary.
Those were the kind of things that made him the man she admired. The man sheâ¦
loved?
Oh, man. She hadn't seen that one coming.
Â
Â
It had been
two
days since Bronson
had locked Gus up in the yard
behind the office.
Two
long days. Each evening his dinner was delivered to the station by Erma
,
who handed it over with a stern look and nothing more. He
'
d made the mistake on day two of asking
her
how Heather was getting along with finding Gus a forever home and
had been
rewarded with a nasty look and
a
thumb inserted into his slice of apple pie. After that he
'
d kept his mouth shut when she dropped of
f
his meals. It was safer. No sense in letting innocent food become a victim again.
Especially when said food was meant to be his dinner.
He needed to see her. Wanted to let her know about his progress on getting a place for Gus
,
but she
'
d been avoiding his calls by having Erma answer the café phone and say she was too busy to talk.
Enough was enough. It was time for Bronson to take the bull by the
proverbial
horns. Shoving his hat down onto his head, he walked out the front door of the department and down the street to
T
he Pickle
,
carrying his takeout box with him. Since Erma had already dropped off his dinner
tonight, that
meant the café was slow and Heather would be there alone. With only twenty minutes until closing time,
and most of the town
sfolk off participating in the scavenger hunt
,
he stood a
pretty good
chance of being able to talk to her
alone without a bunch of nosey busybodies hanging on every word
.
The café was lit and the front door still unlocked when he arrived, though the dining room was empty. He made his way to his regular spot, opened the plastic carton and
began to eat his
catfish
, which was now only warm
,
rather than hot the way he preferred.
Heather
'
s voice drifted through the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the front of the restaurant.
“Come on, Carl, I just need a little more time to get the down paymentâ¦
Yes, I understandâ¦
No, it's fine, I'll just have to figure something else outâ¦
Yeah, thanks for your help.”
Bronson forked up another bite of
fish
just as Heather marched through the swinging door. She stopped the moment she spotted him.
“You. This is all
your
fault.” Anger flashed in her beautiful blue eyes.
The fork froze on its journey to his mouth. “
What'
d
I
do?”
Fists planted on hips
,
she strode over to him, jerked the fork from his hand
,
and tossed it
over her shoulder
. “You just
had
to be a cop. Just
had
to issue an ultimatum about Gus. You couldn't just leave well enough alone, could you?”
“I'm the
s
heriff. It's my job to make sure that the laws are followed and the folks in Big Creek are safe.” He reached for another fork
,
but she beat him to it, slapping her hand down on the utensil
,
effectively
blocking him.
“Of course you are. But this isn't the big city. Things work a little different out here in the boonies. We all look out for one another and sometimes we just accept what is
,
whether it's against the law or not.”
“I turned my head long enough about Gus, but come on, he was beginning to really irk folks in town with his constant wandering and getting into things.”
Heather braced her hands on the counter and leaned toward him. “Who complained? Mrs. Pearson? She gripes about the Christmas lights on
the
s
quare
. Says
they
cast an unflattering glow on
her
car during the season.”
“She's not the only one. Bud called too.” He inched back in his seat
,
and she leaned closer.
“Bud? Seriously?
That
old fart
has a moonshine still in his basement. Who else? Tom Parker? Edna Stiles? You should check out their tomato patches in the spring. Bet you'll find more than Beefsteaks growing in there.” She straightened and backed away from the counter. “If you're going to enforce the law
,
then do it across the board, Sheriff.”
Silence hummed in the café. They stared at each other, neither saying a word.
Finally, Bronson reached out and closed the lid on his dinner then stood. “I'm sorry
,
Heather. I didn't realize that giving you a deadline for Gus was going to cause this many problems.”
He picked up his takeout box and stepped away from the counter. “But I'm not backing down. It's dangerous, not only for Gus
,
but for everyone in town, to just let him wander around. I would hate myself if he caused an accident or even a death because I did nothing. I hope you understand.”
“Yeah, I hope you do, too.” She grabbed a cloth and started wiping down the counter.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
Heather sighed. “I think you should either keep taking your meals at the station or find another place to have supper.”
“But this is the only café in town.”
She glanced up, her gaze locking with his. “I know.”
Â
Â
“You banned the
s
heriff from
T
he Pickle?” Beth Ann stared
wide-eyed
.
“What in the world were you thinkin'?
The man was really just doin' his job when he threw Gus in the clink.
I might not like the fact that it's caused you this much heartache
,
but still.
”
“
I know. I was just so tootin' mad
,
and it's obvious that I wasn't thinkin' clearly or I wouldn't have blown up at him like that
.” Heather groaned and rested her head against the cool surface of the stainless counter in the café kitchen. “I sent Erma over to the Police Department with his dinner last night
,
and she brought it back. Said he'd already eaten.”
Beth Ann chuckled. “Likely story. The only place besides
T
he Pickle in this town to get anything to eat is out of the hot box at the gas station.”
Heather shuddered and raised her head. “Do you really think he would go that far to avoid me?”
Her friend shrugged and began to file her nails. “I don't see why not. You were pretty hard on him.” She pointed her emery board at Heather.
“I saw him chatting it up with Molly
over at the real estate office yesterday
afternoon
.”
With another moan, Heather dropped her head into her hands.
“Face it, girl, you blew it with the studly
s
heriff. Yep, the ladies will be swarming him. It's no wonder he didn't need your dinner last night. I'll bet his calendar is full of home
-
cooked dinner invites.” The quiet rasping of the emery board continued. “Yep, I don't think that he's gonna have to worry about meals for awhile.”
“Okay, I get it. I screwed up. Bronson was just doing his job and trying to make sure that everyone in town was safe
,
and I blew it way out of proportion and took it personal.” She raised her head and wiggled her fingers at Beth Ann. “It's all my fault, I'm a moron, blah, blah, blah.” She drew in a deep breath. “Now, what do I do to fix it?”
Beth Ann put her file down and smiled. “I say you grow a pair, march right over to the station
,
and tell that big hunk of man that he was right, you were wrong
,
and then lay a big wet one on him right there.”
“Kissing is your answer to everything
,
isn't it?”
“If it's a man problem? You bet.” Her friend winked and resumed shaping her perfect nails. “No man alive can resist a good kiss. Especially when it's coming from a girl he's got a thing for.”
“
Had
a thing for. I think after banning him from the café
,
that ship might have sailed.”
“Only one way to find out, now isn't there?” Beth Ann glanced at her watch. “I've gotta run, doll. Billy's taking me muddin' down by Foster
'
s
C
reek tonight after the dance
,
and I've gotta go get
everything
ready.” She picked her purse up off the counter and slipped it onto her shoulder.
“What on
E
arth do you need to do to get ready to go muddin'?”
“Oh, you know,” Beth Ann
said as she
fluffed her hair, “gotta make sure we have water and snacks. Never know, we might get stuck and have to spend a
quiet
summer evening on the banks of the creek.” She sighed. “All alone and away from everyone.”
Heather rolled her eyes. “Yeah, what a hardship that'd be.”
The other woman winked. “Maybe you should try it sometime. It's a great stress relief. Not a care in the world. Just you and the man of your dreams alone to stare at the stars and talk âtil dawn.”
“At this point I'm not sure he'll ever speak to me again.
”
Beth Ann
patted her on the shoulder. “Don't bet on it. Now, put a smile on your face, whip up a spectacular meal
,
and get your box
ed
lunch ready. The auction starts in a couple hours.”
Heather stood and gave her friend a hug. “What would I do without you?”
“You'd fall apart
,
honey.” The redhead squeezed her.
“Ain't love grand?”
“I wouldn't know.”
Beth Ann chuckled. “You sure âbout that?”
The two women stepped apart as Erma pushed through the kitchen door. “Breakfast diners are all gone and everything is cleared.”
