Kate quickly pinched off a bite, popped it into her mouth, and then pulled a couple of napkins from the metal holder in the middle of the table. “You were going to tell me about Bootleg?”
“The lake came about in 1924, back before I was even born. Until then it was just a part of the Wichita River. Down in this area, it was far enough from prying eyes that folks who had a notion to make moonshine could use the banks of the river to do so. Didn’t want to put a still too close to the house. If you got caught, you could lose your property.” Victor told the story between bites.
When they finished the last strip of cake, he pulled a roll of bills from his shirt pocket and peeled off a five. “Go get us another one, but don’t tell Hattie. She’s going to want to share one with me later, and I sure don’t want her to know that I’ve already had two.”
Kate didn’t have to stand in line, so she was only gone a few minutes. “Tell me more about Bootleg and how it got its name.”
Victor pulled off a chunk of cake. “My grandpa was one of those bootleggers. Times got tough those days, and he found a spot on the river and started up a business. It’s what saved our home place here in Bootleg.”
Hattie sat down beside Kate, picked off a piece of the cake, and took up the story. “History has it when the community sprang up near the lake, they tried to name it Lincoln, after the past president, and then Lakeside, but nothing stuck. Everyone had called the place Bootleg for so long they all finally gave up on naming it anything else.
“Hey.” Hattie looked across the table at Victor. “You old fart. I bet you wasn’t going to own up to eating one of these before you shared one with me, was you?”
Victor held up his hands and grinned. “Busted!”
“Don’t tell me you rode the Ferris wheel without me, too.” Hattie’s hands went to her hips and her mouth set in a firm line.
“Don’t get your underpants all twisted up. I wouldn’t do that. We got to ride it together or you get scared,” he teased.
“Not me. I love the Ferris wheel.”
Waylon sat down in the fourth chair and reached for a bite of the cake. “Good mornin’, all y’all. I hear the picnic for Monday has been approved. What do I need to do or cook, Hattie?”
“You have the stagecoach ready, and me and Victor will bring the rest of it,” Hattie answered. “Right now, we’re going to go ride that Ferris wheel, aren’t we, Victor?”
“Yes, ma’am, we are.” He grinned. “And I won’t eat another bite of this cake, so I’ll have plenty of room to share one with you when we get done.”
Kate loved these two old folks and would gladly adopt them. She’d send presents on their birthdays, for Christmas, and even Grandparents Day if they’d let her call them her own.
She waited until they were out of hearing distance before she said, “We should turn the tables on those two and get them together in their golden years.”
“They are together,” Waylon said.
“I mean in one house and married.”
“Whole town has been trying to do that since before my mother died. They are happy, but they will never get married. They’re too set in their ways. Are you going to ride the Ferris wheel with me?”
“What does riding the Ferris wheel mean? That we are friends for life?” She was flirting and knew it, but right then she felt as free and as excited about the day as Gracie.
He picked up the last of the funnel cake, tore it in two pieces, and fed half to her. His fingertips grazing her lips ignited sparks that flitted around the air like fireflies. Turnabout was fair play. She quickly picked up what was left and fed it to him, deliberately brushing the back of her hand across his freshly shaven cheek.
His sudden intake of breath and the way his eyes went all dreamy gave testimony that she’d had the same effect on him that he’d had on her.
“So?” she asked.
“So what? More funnel cake?”
“No. If I ride the Ferris wheel with you, does that make us friends for life like Hattie and Victor?” She hoped he said no—suddenly she wanted to be more than friends. It wasn’t possible, but then, it wasn’t a sin to want something even if there wasn’t a chance in hell of ever getting it.
“Of course. And before I forget, here’s my part of that flower and balloon order.” He slipped a bill into her shirt pocket. The touch of his fingertips brushing across her breast sent another shock wave through her body.
She quickly jerked the money out and handed it back to him. “I didn’t sign either of our names, and it’s already taken care of.”
“But they know I was in on it.” He dropped the money into her purse. “Gracie hugged me and thanked me a dozen times for her balloons. And I pay my bills, so don’t argue with me about this, Kate.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, Detective Kramer.” She dragged out his name.
Damn! Damn! Damn! Now he’d gone and spoiled the whole feeling.