Page 78 of Clara Knows Best

He did.

Eventually she selected a few bouquets and laid them in the cart beside her damp umbrella. “Oh, hey, Asher,” she said, when her young cousin appeared around the corner. “Saw your truck outside. Got your new tires on.”

Okay. Maybe she was more vigilant than she appeared.

Asher, who explained that he was on an errand from his own mother, waxed poetic about the tires he had saved up for until Clara gently redirected him. He denied all knowledge of hissisters’ experiences at the talent show in Dallas, but was able to say that they were expected home on Thursday.

“Isn’t he cute?” Clara asked Jesse when they had parted ways. “He’s so obsessed with his old truck.”

“Cute,” he echoed dutifully.

“Well, well,” an old woman said, leering at them. “If it isn’t the two lovebirds everyone’s talking about.”

Jesse looked doubtfully at Clara, but she took it in stride, saying good-naturedly, “Hi, Miss Sherry. Jesse, Miss Sherry’s the—”

“Postmistress. I remember.”

“Impressive recall,” she praised him. “Jesse met your sister last week when we picked up some hay.”

“Mabel told me. You don’t look half as bad as I expected after your little tussle. DeWitt’s all bruised and swollen, and you just got a neat little sling. Looks good on ya, too. Classy. Mabel’ll be real glad to hear that. Took a shine to ya.”

“Our boy’s pretty good in a fight, isn’t he?” Clara agreed proudly. “DeWitt had a weight and reach advantage but he sure came off worse. It’s clear he’s had no training.”

“Real shame. All those fancy muscles, and no idea how to use ’em. But you know what they say: the bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

“You’ve seen DeWitt?” Jesse asked her.

“Sure did. Saw him get booked. Rumor is, he can’t make bail. He’ll be locked up a few days, probably, waiting on a judge. So, romantic dinner tonight? Guess you owe him, huh?”

“Oh, yes,” Clara answered easily. “Candlelight and everything. I’m making his favorite: chilaquiles. We’re getting married next weekend.”

“You think I can’t tell when I’m being fed bad intel?” Miss Sherry said, with a barking laugh not unlike her sister’s.

“What were you doing down at the police station so late at night on Valentine’s Day?” Clara asked innocently. “I sure hope nothing’s wrong.”

“No, no, nothing’s wrong.”

“You’re buying an awful lot of ground beef. You must have something special planned, yourself.”

“Dear me, I better get goin’,” Miss Sherry exclaimed, with a look at her wristwatch, and hustled away.

“Buh-bye,” Clara called after her.

“Kind of weird, hearing the words ‘reach advantage’ come out of your mouth,” Jesse told her as they cruised down the baking aisle.

“Stop thinking so much about my mouth,” she advised kindly. “And don’t get any ideas; I do not know how to make chilaquiles.”

“I do like them,” he admitted.

“I know you do, and now the whole town knows, so maybe Mrs. Nuñez or one of her friends will bring you some tomorrow.”

“They don’t travel well,” he said humbly. Better not to get his hopes up. “Why’d she rush off like that?”

“Miss Sherry’s sweet on the sheriff. Guess she didn’t want to talk about it.”

No doubt about it, her mood had definitely, if inexplicably, been improved by the kiss. She was back to her wily ways.

“If they get married, you can call her Miss Sheriff,” he suggested, and she gave him a severe look.

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