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Chapter Eight

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Doc

Doc pulled into Mr. O’Farrell’s driveway, happy to see colorful crocuses pushing up through the dirt in the pristine flower beds—another sure sign that spring was on the way.

These weekly visits had become a regular thing ever since Kate had suggested Doc talk to the old man about the mines in and around the Sumneyville area. Each time he did, Doc came bearing gifts in the form of meals made by Kate.

At one time, Mr. O’Farrell had been on Kate’s Meals on Wheels delivery route, but that was before the Ladies Auxiliary decided they didn’t want to get on the bad side of the fire chief—who allowed them to use the fire hall kitchen—and informed Kate that her volunteer services were no longer required.

When Mr. O’Farrell found out what had happened, he canceled his participation and gave the Ladies Auxiliary a severe tongue-lashing. Kate had been so moved that she’d been cooking him special meals ever since, even going as far as purchasing a box freezer for his garage so she could ensure he always had enough meals on hand.

“Want these in the usual place?” Doc asked, nodding to the box of premade meals in his hands.

The old man nodded and stepped back, opening the door wider. At a sprightly one hundred and three, Mr. O’Farrell was an unending source of fascinating local history and a gifted storyteller.

He closed the door behind Doc and nodded. “Yes, please. Did Kate make that special dinner I asked for?”

“She did,” Doc confirmed with a grin. “She said to tell you it’s in the container with the heart drawn in red Sharpie on top.”

“Kate’s a good lass. Put that one near the front, so I don’t need to dig it out.”

“What are you up to, Mr. O?”

The old man grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Got a hot date tomorrow with a classy woman, and I want to impress her.”

Doc chuckled. “Nice. Anyone I know?”

“Lottie Obermacher. She’s a little young for me—only eighty-six—but I reckon she’s old enough, eh?” The old man winked.

The name piqued Doc’s interest since he’d been thinking a lot about a different Obermacher female lately.

“Obermacher, huh? Same family that has the produce outlet?”

“That’s the one. Lottie’s widowed, going on ten years now. I figured I’ve waited long enough to be respectful. Neither one of us is getting any younger, you know.”

Doc unloaded what he could fit into Mr. O’Farrell’s refrigerator and put the rest into the nearly-full chest freezer in his garage. Doc would have to remember to tell Kate to cut back on the extras for next time. Not everyone ate as much as her tank-sized husband.

Once everything was put away, Doc turned to Mr. O’Farrell to ask him which of the delicious meals he’d like for lunch, only to find the older man waiting patiently by the door with his jacket on, his “fancy” cane in hand, and a dapper tweed flat cap atop his snowy-white hair.

“I guess we’re running errands today?”

“If you don’t mind, son. Like I said, Lottie’s a classy woman. She’s going to want flowers and chocolates.”

As much as he enjoyed simply visiting with Mr. O’Farrell and listening to his stories, driving around town while running errands with him was both a learning experience and an adventure. There wasn’t a spot in town that didn’t have one or more stories associated with it, and the old man knew them all.

It was a beautiful day to do it, too. The sun was shining. The temperature had risen above the freezing mark and was hovering at a respectable forty-five. Plenty of people were out and about, which only added to Mr. O’s running commentary.

“They finally got around to leveling Santori’s, huh?” he noted as they drove past the spot of the café where Sam used to work. “About time. Sure do miss their coffee though. There was a girl who worked there—made the best damn cup of joe I ever had.”

Doc knew exactly who he was talking about. “Sam.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Sammy Appelhoff. Do you know her?”

“Sam’s married, and she lives at Sanctuary now.”

“I think Kate did tell me that once, now that you mention it,” Mr. O’Farrell mused with a nod. “Her grandpa was a good man but an old-school, fire-and-brimstone type. Couldn’t handle it when his only daughter came home pregnant and demanded she give the baby up for adoption.”

He paused, as if allowing the memories to funnel back to him. “She ran away shortly after that, if I recall, and he was never the same. He didn’t even know about Sammy until family services showed up on his door years later. Not sure what happened to the boy.”

Doc knew that Sam’s mother had had mental problems and died by her own hand. Cage had dug up that information as part of their covert investigation when Sam was kidnapped by a deranged psycho several years earlier, but the identity of Sam’s father remained a mystery.

Did Mr. O know who Sam’s father was? And if he did, would Sam want to know? Doc made a mental note to mention something to Smoke about it later.

“Park in the free lot,” Mr. O’Farrell directed when Doc was about to make a second pass along Main Street, looking for a good spot along the curb.

The old penny meters were still in place, but no one had been checking them for years as far as Doc knew.

“Are you sure?”

“Everything I need is within a few blocks, and the walk will do these old legs good.”

They went to Hoffmeier’s Florist first, where a cheerful woman named Penny promised Mr. O’Farrell she’d design a special bouquet and have it delivered the next day. She also inquired about Kate and asked Doc to pass along a hello, which he was happy to do.

Next was the candy shop, Lindström’s. The moment they walked in, they were hit with the scents of melted chocolate and freshly roasted nuts. While Mr. O’Farrell hand-selected an assortment of candies, Doc picked up boxes of caramel cashew clusters and chocolate-covered raisins with their next movie night in mind.

As they were walking back to the car, two elderly women in puffy pastel coats were coming toward them on the sidewalk. Mr. O’Farrell grabbed Doc’s arm in a surprisingly strong grip and tugged him into the nearest shop.

Once inside, the older man peered out the window from behind Doc’s much bigger frame. He exhaled in relief when the two women passed by.

“The Schaeffer twins,” Mr. O’Farrell said in explanation. “If they see me with a box of Lindström’s, they’ll want to know who it’s for. Especially Lydia. She’s had the hots for me for fifty years. Not my type though. Too skinny and proper. I like a woman with a little meat on her bones and fire in her soul.”

Doc chuckled as an image of white-blonde hair and sparkling pale blue eyes came to mind. He couldn’t agree more.

“Can I help you with something?”

Doc turned at the male voice to find Kate’s father glaring their way from behind the counter of Handelmann’s Hardware. His scowl deepened when he recognized Doc.

Mr. O’Farrell either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Eric, my boy,” the old man said jovially. “Good to see you, lad. How’s the ticker? Heard it was giving you some trouble a while back.”

Mr. Handelmann’s eyes moved to the older man, his jaw unclenching slightly. “Better than ever, Mr. O’Farrell.”

“Good, good. Glad to hear it. Don’t mind us. Just taking port in a storm, and then we’re going back to enjoy some of Kate’s cooking.”

Eric Handelmann stiffened at the mention of his daughter’s name.

“Fine, fine girl you raised there, Eric. You should be proud.” The old man tapped Doc on the arm. “Okay, son, I think the coast is clear. Good day, Eric. Tell Beth I said hello, will you?”

Without waiting for a response, Mr. O’Farrell pushed out the door, leaving Doc to follow.

“The man’s a damn fool,” Mr. O muttered as they continued down the sidewalk. “Never would have believed he’d treat his own daughter that way, especially Kate, but there it is. Everyone has their priorities, I suppose, and if you ask me, his are grossly misplaced.”

Yet another thing they were in full agreement on.

Errands completed, Doc drove them back to Mr. O’Farrell’s place and warmed a bowl of pot pie for each of them.

“No one makes pot pie like Kate,” Mr. O’Farrell commented after humming in approval.

Doc agreed wholeheartedly and said so. Kate was an excellent cook, and her efforts were very much enjoyed by everyone at Sanctuary.

“Is her young man treating her well? Is she happy?”

“He is, and she is,” Doc confirmed.

Mad Dog’s whole world revolved around his wife, and there was no question that Kate felt the same way about him. Still, her family’s shunning must have hurt, especially when it was so pointless.

“She’s a good girl with a big heart. I’m glad she found someone who appreciates her. What about you?”

Doc stopped chewing. “What about me?”

“Got any special ladies in your sights?”

Once again, an image of Tina Obermacher came to mind, but that didn’t really count, not the way Mr. O’Farrell meant anyway.

Doc continued to chew, then swallowed, and took a drink of water. “Not particularly.”

“Why not? You’re a handsome fella with a good head on your shoulders and a kind soul. Shouldn’t be that hard to find a decent woman. How old are you now?”

“Thirty-one.”

“Thirty-one!” Mr. O’Farrell chuckled. “By the time I was your age, I’d already served my time in the Navy, gotten married, and had three kids.”

Well, thought Doc, one out of three isn’t too bad.

“You know, Lottie’s got a granddaughter. Quite a looker, too. If things work out, maybe I could introduce you. We could double-date sometime.”