Page 56 of Mistletoe and Mischief

Cook nodded. “Cliff’s a...neighbor.”

“He is?” Maybe they were closer than Linc had thought.

“Raises the best horses around these parts.” The cook sounded somewhat grudging as he said this.

Linc knew car engines inside out but didn’t have a clue about horses, and he had no idea how to respond.

Fortunately he didn’t have to. “You fellows interested in buying one of Cliff’s horses?” the old curmudgeon asked.

“Not really.” Linc hoped that wasn’t disappointing news. “We’re, uh, supposed to be meeting our sister, who’s staying at the Harding place.”

“Wehaddirections,” Mel explained.

“But we sort of got turned around.”

“In other words, we’re lost,” Linc said.

“Lemme make you those sandwiches.”

“What about giving us directions?”

King, or whatever his name was, sighed as if this was asking too much. “I could—for a price.”

Linc slapped a ten-dollar bill on the counter.

The grouch eyed the money and shrugged. “That might get you there. Then again, it might not.”

Linc threw in another ten. “This is all you’re getting.”

“Fine.” He pocketed the money and slouched off toward the kitchen. “I’ll be back with your order.”

Ten minutes later, he returned with a large white bag packed with sandwiches, potato chips and canned sodas. Linc decided not to ask how old the meat loaf was. He paid the tab and didn’t complain at the price, which seemed seriously inflated.

“About those directions?” Linc asked.

Ned took out the map the firefighter had drawn and spread it on the linoleum counter. The route from Cedar Cove to the Harding place looked pretty direct, and Linc didn’t know how he’d managed to get so confused.

“The King’s gonna set you straight,” the grouch told them.

“Good, because we arelost,” Mel said, dragging out the last word.

“Big-time lost,” Ned added.

This was a point that did not need further emphasis. Linc would’ve preferred his brothers keep their mouths shut, but that wasn’t likely to happen.

“Okay, you’re here,” King informed them, drawing a circle around their current location. He highlighted the street names at the closest intersection. “You’re near the corner of Burley and Glenwood.”

“Got it,” Linc said.

“You need to head east.”

“East,” Linc repeated.

“Go down about two miles and you cross the highway via the overpass.”

“Okay, got that.”

The grouch turned the directions around and circled the Harding ranch. “This is where Cliff and Grace Harding live.”

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