3

Did you find enough to at least get started?” Nancy Jo Cooley looked up from the bread she was kneading when Sarah came through the back door.

“I found a ton. There were some great midcentury modern pieces in that shed. I had no idea all that was out there.”

“Midcentury modern?” Nancy Jo swiped the back of her hand across her nose, leaving a flour smear. “You’re not talking about that awful blond bedroom set, are you?”

“And the coffee tables, and the turquoise sofa is still in good shape. And there’s even a Formica and chrome kitchen table.” Sarah practically danced with excitement. “I marked everything I wanted with that blue painter’s tape that was out there. The guys said they could load it on the truck and bring it to town tomorrow.”

“I can’t believe you want that awful old stuff from the fifties. Gran was still hanging on to her big-city ways when she went clear to Albuquerque to buy it and then had it shipped down. It made the ranch quite the showplace, but by the time I married your dad, it was ready for the shed. Did you see the oak dining table with the claw feet? The bentwood rocker? I think those pieces are so much nicer than that so-called modern stuff.”

“Oh, shoot. They’ve already taken up the gold shag carpet. Otherwise the oak would be perfect, especially with a macramé plant hanger or two.” Sarah poured herself a cup of coffee and set another where her mother could reach it. “Nope. I’m thrilled with the midcentury modern. Wait till you see how it looks in my house.”

“Did you go through the linen closet too? There are plenty of sheets and towels you can have.” Nancy Jo gave the bread dough a final thump and set it to rise under a damp cloth before rinsing her hands. “Thanks for the coffee, honey. I’m ready for a break.” She smiled at the familiar ringtone coming from Sarah’s purse. “Is that Brandon? Tell him hi from me.”

Sarah didn’t answer either the phone or her mother, and if Nancy Jo noticed, she didn’t say anything. “I think I’m going to get all new linens. I’m going up to San Ramon this afternoon for that, as well as shelf paper and whatever else I decide I need. Want to come?”

“I wish I could. It sounds like fun. But I’ve got way too much to do around here.”

Sarah got up and squeezed her mother’s shoulders before she put her cup in the sink. “Well, I’m sure it won’t be the last time I head up there for something for the house. I’ll give you some warning next time, and maybe we can make a day of it.”

“Do. I’d like that.” Nancy Jo took a sip of coffee. “Oh, since you seem to like that old stuff, did you find the dishes?”

“Dishes?”

“Gran has a box of Fiesta ware out there somewhere. It’s not a complete set anymore, but there should be enough to set a table.”

“Real Fiesta? Just sitting in a box in the shed? You’ve got to be kidding. If it’s out there, I’m taking it with me now.” Sarah was already off the porch and on her way to the shed by the time the door slammed behind her.

The kitchen, Chris guessed, had passed muster. Not only did Carlos have nothing to say about it, but he actually seemed cheerful as he worked. Chris even caught him whistling softly. Nevertheless, discretion being the better part of valor, Chris decided to stay out of his way. That was the course of action Fayette had recommended anyway, and though he had no intention of abdicating the kitchen of his own restaurant, taking a day off from battle now and then would not hurt. It could even help in the long run.

When the front door opened and in breezed Rita Sandoval, the mayor of Last Chance, Chris held his breath. Earlier, before anyone else arrived at the diner, he had taken down the bell over the door. So far no one had said anything, but he had learned already that nothing ever got past Rita. She stopped in the doorway, looked up, swung the door back and forth a few times, shrugged, and bustled on in. Chris slowly exhaled, feeling absurdly pleased that at least one change he wanted to make at the Dip ’n’ Dine had slipped by.

“Sarah Cooley’s not here, is she?” Rita looked around and gave a sharp nod. “Good. I stopped by Elizabeth’s and she said Sarah was going to come in for lunch on her way to San Ramon this afternoon.”

“No, we haven’t seen Sarah today, have we, Chris?” Juanita’s voice oozed innocence, but Chris felt his ears growing hot anyway.

“Good. Then I’ll make this fast. Sarah’s moving into the Carter place this week, and we’re going to give her a pounding on Saturday night.”

Chris had no idea what a pounding was, but he was pretty sure it couldn’t be as violent as it sounded. Last Chance just didn’t seem like that kind of place.

Rita plopped her ever-present clipboard on the counter. “I’d rather everyone sign up for what they’re going to bring so we don’t get twenty-five pounds of tea and not an ounce of sugar to go with it, but people in this town can be so hardheaded when it comes to taking the tiniest suggestion, so I’ll just let it be what it is and hope for the best.”

“Rita, I do believe you’re getting soft. You start letting people make up their own minds about things, and the whole town’s likely to go to pot.” Juanita picked up the clipboard and looked at it. “You can put me down for two jars of my homemade green chile salsa, and of course I’ll bring my specialty for the potluck table.”

“Terrific. We can never have too much lime Jell-O with cottage cheese and marshmallows.” Clearly Rita recognized a dig when she heard one and had no trouble giving as good as she got.

“What about you, Chris?” Juanita either didn’t get the jab or chose to ignore it. “You’re invited too, you know. The whole town comes to these things. You bring a pound of something for the pantry and a dish for the potluck. It’s like a surprise housewarming.”

“I don’t know. I’ve only met Sarah once. I’m sure she’ll want to see all her old friends.” When Chris talked to Sarah again—and he fully intended to—he didn’t want it to be in front of a room full of attentive strangers.

“Oh, but you have to come, Chris. She’ll think you’re hiding from her.” Juanita appeared to be working hard to hide a smile. “You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

Chris took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak, but Rita held up a hand and interrupted. “Shhh, here she comes. Remember, 6:00 Saturday evening. Everyone’s meeting at Elizabeth’s, and we’ll walk over together.”

She stopped on her way out to give Sarah a hug and then caught Chris’s eye over Sarah’s head and mouthed something that looked strangely like “Be there or be square.”

“What’s Rita up to this time?” Sarah smiled as she came in. “I noticed the clipboard.”

“Oh, you know Rita.” Juanita waved a dismissive hand. “She’s always got some project or another going.”

When Sarah glanced at him and looked away, Chris realized he was staring. Was his mouth even hanging open? He wasn’t sure if he was completely captivated or just falling asleep on his feet, but he had to admit she did look good.

“I hear you’re heading up to San Ramon this afternoon to do some shopping. How’s the house shaping up?” Juanita handed Sarah a menu that she didn’t bother to open.

“How did you know I was going to San Ramon?” Even with her brow furrowed, Sarah looked cute.

If Juanita knew she had blundered, she gave no clue. “How does anyone know anything around here? I think it just blows on the wind. Now, have you had time to look at that menu?”

Sarah held her puzzled frown for a second longer before she accepted the truth of Juanita’s observation and let her face relax into a smile. “Don’t need the menu. I’m still working my way through the specials.”

“Huevos rancheros it is, then. And since Carlos gets his chile from Russ and me, you know it will be the best you’ve ever put in your mouth.”

“My mouth is watering already.” Sarah handed the menu back to Juanita. If that big goof of an owner didn’t stop staring at her, she was going to have to do something. She wasn’t sure what yet, but it wouldn’t be taking her business elsewhere, since (a) there was no “elsewhere” and (b) she was here first, darn it. If anyone needed to go elsewhere, it was Chris. Her earliest memories included ice cream at the Dip ’n’ Dine on Saturday afternoons. Fayette had been a waitress then before she bought the place, and Sarah was just beginning to realize how much she was going to miss her.

She glanced at Chris, who had stopped by another table to chat for a moment with the customers. Fayette used to do that all the time, of course, but it was different when she did it. Fayette was friendly and down-home. You felt she was plain glad to see you. This guy acted friendly, but Sarah didn’t believe it. She had seen guys just like him all her life—big guys with way more looks than brains who thought of no one but themselves and who expected the world to part like the Red Sea just because they swaggered through it. She caught him looking at her again and stared back, opening her eyes as wide as she could get them. He actually blushed and looked away. Take that, you big doofus, and start packing.

“Here you go. Eggs over easy. I forgot to ask, but they’re best that way.” Juanita appeared with a steaming plate of huevos rancheros and a basket of thick flour tortillas.

“Thanks, Juanita.” Sarah spread her napkin over her lap. “I meant to tell you how nice it is to see a friendly face in here. When did you start working here?”

“Well, I volunteered, of course, with the rest of the church when Fayette was spending all that time with Matthew at the hospital. Then after she sold the place, I found I missed it. Well, not so much the work as the people. With the kids all grown and gone and the business end of the farm all computerized, I wasn’t as busy as I once was. I just work a few days a week anyway.”

Sarah kept her voice at a low murmur. “How is it working for . . . ?” She tilted her head toward the kitchen.

“Chris?” Sarah saw him look over at the mention of his name and wished Juanita would lower her voice. “Oh, he’s doing all right. He’s a little green right now, but he’s coming along.” A ding came from the kitchen and Juanita rolled her eyes. “Well, either I have an order ready, or Chris wants to bless me out again for talking about him to the customers. His one weakness, other than wanting to change every last thing, is that he’s a bit touchy. You enjoy those eggs, now.”

Juanita went to the kitchen where there was indeed an order waiting for her, and Sarah turned her attention to her huevos rancheros. Juanita was right. They were outstanding, and Sarah sopped up every bit of egg and green chile with the thick tortillas.

She didn’t have time to think of ways to get Chris out of the Dip ’n’ Dine and out of Last Chance, because every time someone came in, they stopped by the table to welcome her back. It was surprising how many knew she had taken the Carter place and how many even remarked on her pending trip that afternoon to San Ramon. Juanita was right. There were no secrets in Last Chance.