Free A Man for Annalee by Vonnie Davis

pickles occupied a spot near a checkerboard positioned on an old table near a potbellied stove. Two older men, sitting on upended wooden crates, played checkers. They stopped and stared.
    An older gentleman wearing a soiled white apron approached her. “Afta’noon, miss. I reckon you must be Lee Tanner’s granddaughter. Welcome to Cicero Creek.”
    “Yes I am, and thank you.”
    “I’m sorry to hear of your loss. Name’s Bill Stoner, proprietor of this here store. Did my son get that delivery across the creek okay?”
    “Yes, Clarence made the delivery.” She hated to mention Clarence’s deplorable attitude or his flirty ways, so she glanced around the store in hopes of ending that trail of conversation. When she spied material and sewing notions, she stopped to examine the piece goods, buttons, and lace. She fingered red gingham fabric she thought would make nice kitchen curtains before moving on.
    A dust-covered pitcher and bowl set was on one of the higher shelves. She couldn’t recall seeing one at the cabin. Dishes. She’d also need dishes. More importantly, though, she’d need to be somewhat conservative in her spending. For now, the only funds she had was her withdrawal from her bank in Chicago the day after the fire. She’d purchase only the necessities. Her eyes spied a salmon-covered book. Well, reading was a necessity, wasn’t it? Nights alone at the cabin would require a book or two to keep her mind occupied so she wouldn’t dwell on all she’d lost.
    “If I buy some things today, household items, plus flour, sugar, beans, and the like, may I wait until tomorrow to pick them up, Mr. Stoner?”
    “Yes, you could.” He scratched the back of his head. “If’n ya want, I can have Clarence deliver your purchases. More work I got fer him to do, the less time he’s got to come up with another get-rich-quick scheme.”
    The possibility of Clarence leering and making snide comments was enough to turn her stomach. “That’s most kind of you, but Mr. Maguire will insist on picking up my purchases. I’m staying with him and his wife.”
    Once her shopping was completed, Annalee glanced in the windows of Beans for the Belly. A hand-written sign read, “Best coffee on Main Street.” She really could use a cup and a chance to sit down. A bell jangled overhead when she opened the door. She took a seat in front of the large window facing the street.
    Her shopping excursion at two stores had made a serious dent in her funds. She’d bought the gingham to make curtains for the kitchen windows and yellow chintz for the parlor. There were also several yards of flannel for bed linens. She planned to sew them tonight, if Cora had a treadle. If not, she would make them by hand.
    She’d have Franklin pick up the remainder of her purchases in the morning. Now that she’d made her decision to move into her grandpa’s house, the feeling of possessiveness surprised her. She’d need to see a lawyer to establish ownership. Boone said he’d help her see if she had any rights to the property. He claimed the wheels of law moved slowly out here, that she probably wouldn’t have to vacate until spring if the right of ownership didn’t progress as hoped.
    A woman, wiping work-chapped hands on her apron, hurried to the table. “Howdy, what can I getcha?”
    “Coffee, please.”
    “Got some pies. Apple and cherry.”
    Annalee smiled. “Apple pie sounds lovely. Shopping tends to work up an appetite.”
    The waitress gave a quick nod and hurried off, returning with a cup of coffee and a slice of pie. “You’re Lee Tanner’s granddaughter, ain’tcha? I heard the fellas talkin’ aboutcha jest this morning. Said you was single. And a looker too.” She winked. “I’m Minerva Baker, but folks jest call me Minnie. We don’t take a hankerin’ to ceremony ’round these parts.”
    “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Minnie. As for the men talking about me, I guess since I’m new in town, I would be the