She’d been coolly friendly but she hadn’t flirted with him. Was he losing his touch? What if he was never able to entice a woman into his bed again?
Then he saw the engagement ring on her left hand and he could breathe again. “When are you getting married?”
She held up the ring and looked at it as if seeing it for the first time. A bright smile lit up her face. “In March. If you are still here, you are invited to the wedding. It will be held at the church with the reception in the fellowship hall.”
“Thank you. I’ll be there for sure because, Miz Lizzy, I will definitely still be around.” He stopped at the door, settled his cowboy hat on his head, and turned around before he opened the door. “You own the store down the block, too?”
“No, that’s still Mama’s business but she won’t mind if you put up a flyer,” Lizzy answered. “Don’t forget. Eleven o’clock. And act surprised. Don’t tell them I told you. Don’t want them to be disappointed if you weren’t home. They’ve probably been cooking for two days.”
He gave her the thumbs-up sign and stepped out into the harsh January wind. Oklahoma had its own song about the wind coming swooping down the plains, but they couldn’t hold a candle that day to the Texas wind blowing dead leaves and dirt down the sidewalk between the feed store and the service station–slash–convenience store on the other corner of the block.
Four empty buildings with either dirty windows or newspaper covering the windows separated the feed store on one corner of the block and the convenience store on the other end. The faded signs said at one time there had been a beauty and barbershop combination, a clothing store, a café, and a bakery in Dry Creek. He glanced across the street at the empty places on that side with windows so dirty that he couldn’t even see what kind of signs might have been written on them in past days.
He bypassed two gas pumps and crossed a wooden porch into the store that was set back from the rest of the empty buildings. The windows were sparkling clean and the inside of the store was neatly put together. He was met with the rich aroma of breakfast food, maybe sausage gravy and hot biscuits.
“Hello, what can I help you with?” It was easy to see that this was Allie’s mother. They had the same brown eyes and although her hair had a few gray streaks, it was still mostly dark brown. Katy was taller than Allie by a couple of inches and a few pounds heavier. Crow’s feet around her eyes said that she’d enjoyed life and laughed a lot.
The store was set up with the cashier’s counter to the right inside the door and shelves of staples lined up neatly to the left with restroom signs in that corner. Tables were back there with chairs pushed up around them, and a meat counter with a stove behind it took up the room beside the counter.
He removed his cowboy hat. “I’m Blake Dawson and I’d like to put up a flyer to give away mesquite wood. So this is a gas station, convenience store, and a café all combined?” he asked.
“Not a real café. Since we don’t have a place for folks to grab a bite of lunch on the run I put in a small deli counter and I make one thing at noon. Something simple like chili or soup or maybe tacos.”
“Beer, bait, and ammo,” he said with a smile.
“Something like that only it’s gas, cokes, and tacos.” She grinned back at him.
“Walter! What are you doing here this time of morning?” Irene pushed back a chair from one of the three old tables covered with yellow Formica with mismatched chairs around them. “You moved away and said you’d never come back to Dry Creek.”
“Miz Irene, look at me closely. I’m Blake Dawson, not Walter,” he said gently.
“That’s right. You’re that scoundrel who’s trying to get Alora Raine into bed with you. Well, it won’t work. I’ll protect her.” Irene stuck her nose in the air and disappeared behind a curtain separating the front of the store from the back.
“Sorry about that,” Katy said.
“It’s all right. If I tell her often enough that I’m not Walter maybe she’ll forget about him. So I can run in at noon if I don’t want to cook?”
“Or in the morning.” She pointed to the chalkboard above the counter.
He took his gloves off and shoved them into the pockets of his coat. “Breakfast and dinner, both. I’ll have to remember that.”
“Breakfast is the same every morning. Sausage gravy and biscuits. Dinner is take it or leave it but I’ve got a lot of folks who are willing to take it. I do make deli sandwiches out of the meat market back there.” She nodded toward the display of pork chops, steak, and lunch meats.
“And I thought this was only a convenience store,” he said.
Katy handed him a roll of tape. “Go on and put your flyer in the window. But you might get more folks on your ranch than you want though. Mesquite makes for some good hot fire.”
He laid two packages of chocolate chip cookies and a bag of chips on the counter. “I’d also like two pounds of bologna sliced thick and a pound of ham sliced real thin. My dog, Shooter, likes a piece of bologna every night before bedtime.”
She headed for the back of the store. “And the ham?”