Free Finding Home by Jackie Weger

itchin’ to sprout.”
    Gage had so much objection he choked on it. She was taking over his house, his land, his daughter, his... He surveyed Phoebe from under half-lowered lids. One dollar. She thought she had the upper hand. Thought she was fooling him. He was smarter than she was. He had to be. He was a man. A learned man, especially when it came to women. Velma had ripped him up one side and down the other with her ways. He hadn’t balked then, but he was balking now.
    “ I don’t care if you stick peelings in the ground from here to Mobile. What I do care about is the seventy—”
    “ Sixty-nine,” Phoebe put in since he’d pocketed the dollar.
    “ Sixty-nine bucks you owe for denting my truck.”
    “ I guess I could give you another dollar. Then mayhap we could call it even. The way you weld and bang an’ all, you could fix your truck yourself.”
    “ I aim to. Seventy dollars’ worth.”
    “ You sure are stuck on that figure,” Phoebe said with malevolent geniality. “What’re you gonna do, line them raggedy fenders with fur?”
    Gage flushed darkly. “I know the value of a dent. Get out of my shop. I’ve got a living to make. I want you out of my house. Taking in transients is for the Salvation Army.”
    Phoebe ’s lips went numb.
    Her dream was crumbling. She was expending energy making her chest heave and flutter and Gage Morgan was oblivious to it. A romantic-minded man would notice, endowments or not.
    “ We ain’t transients. You’re holdin’ us hostage by stealin’ my bumper smack off my truck. You think I like being here? Cleanin’ and scrubbin’ and cookin’ in the middle of a junkyard! You’re lookin’ at a body who was made for better things.”
    Gage snorted. “I’m looking at a body that’d have to put on two pounds to make it as a toothpick.”
    Phoebe ’s heart tripped. He had noticed her heaving chest—and took it wrong. “You’re a vile-mouthed man, Gage Morgan. Hell-bound, certain.” Oh, but she was in the company of a man who needed educating. “I can’t wait until tomorrow,” she said, giving him a full blast of scorn. “I hope I make enough money to pay you triple on that blamed bumper. But if you keep aggravatin’ me, callin’ me names, I’m liable to get on the road, bumper or no. And if Willie-Boy goes to dyin’, it’ll be on you.” She drew a breath to go on speaking, paused and shut her mouth.
    Gage passed a hand across his forehead, smearing the sweat and smut. “Willie-Boy could’ve died all over this junkyard today. I had to run him out of here twice. He looks about as sick as an overfed puppy.”
    Phoebe decided s he was getting used to Gage Morgan’s good looks. So much so she was starting to see his flaws, things about him that could irritate. It wouldn’t take much for her to start thinking penny pinching was a bad thing. Then there were his eyebrows—they were all spiky. Not to mention that he was using up all her good points getting her angry at him.
    “ If he came in here it was to get outta the sun. You should’ve made him sit still instead of chasin’ him out. Anyway, you can’t see his sickness. You got to listen for it.”
    “ What I’m listening for is you to say goodbye.”
    “ Hand over my bumper and I’ll holler it loud and clear.”
    “ I was taken to the cleaners once by a woman. Made out a fool. It won’t happen a second time. Seventy dollars for that bumper or it can sit over there and rust to nothing.”
    “ You’re a lucky man,” said Phoebe, grasping the impact of what he’d said, “if all that keeps you from dunce and fool is seventy dollars. I’ll get it up, never you mind about that. Even if I got to hang around here and put up with your un-Christian ways till doomsday.” Which would suit her just fine and then some. She turned away from him and sashayed out. Not caring if he was watching, not caring if she had yet mastered the hip rolling.
     

FOUR
     
     
    Phoebe found a recipe for gumbo on a