Free Wishmakers by Dorothy Garlock Page B

moaned.
    “Good. You don't need any.”
    They drove slowly down the main street until they found a place to park, and Chip angled the car in facing the curb.
    “Saturday is a big shopping day here,” he explained. “Friday is payday at the mill.”
    “I thought the mill ran on Saturdays during the busy season.”
    “We've shut it down to just Saturday mornings now. By this afternoon the town, especially the bars, will be full. C'mon. This place is known for its homemade pie.”
    They met on the sidewalk in front of the car, and Chip tucked her hand in his. By now it was a familiar gesture, and Margaret's fingers found spaces between his. Several people gave Chip a friendly greeting and eyed Margaret with interest.
    The diner they entered was small, with a row of booths down one side and a counter with low barstools down the other. The window was full of green plants, and a vine growing in a large pot reached the ceiling by way of a small lattice. The woman behind the counter was blond, middle-aged, and pleasant. She greeted Chip with easy familiarity, extending a friendly acknowledgment in Margaret's direction.
    Chip led Margaret to a booth. “This place will be loaded in another half hour.”
    “What'll you have, Chip?” The blond woman set two cups and a thermos pitcher of coffee onto the table. Her eyes darted from Chip to Margaret.
    “This is Maggie, Donna. She's here to visit for a while. I'm showing her the sights.”
    “That won't take long,” Donna said, rolling her eyes heavenward. “If you bat your eyes when you go through this town you'll miss it altogether.”
    Margaret was uncertain whether she should offer her hand. She hadn't expected to be introduced to a waitress. Chip, for all his status as the man who supplied most of the jobs in the area, was certainly on familiar terms with the people who lived here.
    “Give us a couple of tenderloin sandwiches and a slice of your famous apple pie, Donna.” He reached across and covered Margaret's hand with his. “Okay with you, sweetheart?”
    Margaret nodded while butterflies of happiness danced in her stomach. She saw the woman raise her brows. Chip was clearly announcing that she was more than a casual friend here for a visit. Even if it was just a subterfuge to protect her identity, this sense of belonging to Chip was the most sensuous, lovely feeling she'd ever experienced. She immediately felt a moment's remorse as Justin's face flashed before her eyes.
    “Like that, is it? Well, it's about time, Chip Thorn. You've driven all the unattached females between fifteen and forty wild for too many years now. It's time you picked one and put the others out of their misery.”
    “If that's the case, how come you haven't been giving me the come-on?” That irresistible charm spread over his face again, and Margaret's eyes couldn't leave it.
    “Honey, if I weren't more than five years on the top side of forty, you'd not've had a chance. I'd have been after you like a coon dog on a hot trail.” She flounced away, giving Margaret a wink over her shoulder.
    “I can't get over the fact that everyone knows you so well.” Margaret had allowed her hand to rest beneath his while the waitress was at the table. Now that there was no longer an excuse, she slid it into her lap.
    “You mean you're surprised because everybody calls me Chip instead of Mr. Thorn and no one stands at attention when I walk by?”
    “No, I didn't mean that. From what I've learned, the company is the principal employer in this area, and these people look to you for their jobs.” She knew she was on shaky ground, and she wished she hadn't brought up the subject.
    “That's true. If Anthony/Thorn folded, this place would be a ghost town in a couple of years. I don't intend for that to happen, and the people know it.” He studied her for a moment. “Are you wanting to sell your shares and wash your hands of this puny operation?”
    “No!” The denial came without hesitation, and