Free Winsor, Linda by Along Came Jones Page A

Shep, you ought to consider
takin' the sheriff's place when he retires this fall. Lots of folks think
that's right up your alley"
    "It's
not gonna happen, so save your breath. Hopewell needs all my time." Shep
started the Jeep, giving it gas when it threatened to die.
    "Don't
hurt to think about it, does it?"
    The
Jeep jerked backward as Shep shifted into reverse. "I've got all I can
think about right now without adding something else."
    Lips
twitching, the mechanic stepped back to give them space. With a keen glance at
Deanna, he gave in to a lopsided grin. "Yep, I reckon you do at
that."
    Shepard
Jones wasn't the only one with a lot to think about. Deanna fastened her seat
belt as they accelerated out onto the highway toward Buffalo Butte proper. He
couldn't possibly be any happier than she about her being stuck here without a
vehicle for a minimum of six weeks. She'd thought for certain that Charlie
could hammer out the dents, replace the flat tire, and she'd be on her way. Who
knew her radiator and some special order thingamabob was trashed as well?
Without adding auto theft to her rap sheet, she was stuck in the boonies where
people left the g off of half the words that ended in -ing, dogs
and guns were man's best friends, and dressed up for women meant clean jeans.
    "Well,
that settles that, I guess," Shep drawled. "I might as well take you
back to Great Falls."
    Deanna's
breath caught, but it didn't stop the feel of the blood racing from her face to
feed the panicked staccato of her heart. The only thing worse than being stuck
here for six weeks was being stuck in Great Falls without a getaway car. She
couldn't go back there. She just couldn't. She needed to lay low until she
figured out what she could do.
    "We'll
hash it out over lunch," he suggested when she didn't reply.
    After
a short stop by the Farm and Ranch General, Shep took her to a vintage fifties
railcar diner. The sign in front advertised a hot turkey sandwich and
"fixins" for $2.99 as the special of the day. A shiny glassed-in
entrance appeared to have been a recent addition, no doubt for climate control
to the streamlined structure of time-dulled stainless steel.
    As
they entered, almost every head turned toward them, save those people who
stared at the new arrivals via the reflection in the mirrors lining the diner
walls. As she'd done since leaving Charlie's garage, Deanna warily searched
each face, although she tried not to be as obvious as the curious townspeople.
To her relief, none looked threatening—just the everyday rural sort.
    Undaunted
by the blatant attention, Shep ushered her to an empty booth around the end of
the lunch counter by the restroom entrances, affording them some semblance of
privacy.
    Even
though Deanna had just eaten her egg sandwich, the sight of the oversized pies
in the glass display case on the counter and the smells emanating from the
grill made her mouth water. The last time she'd eaten in a place like this had
been with her grandmother when Deanna was a schoolgirl. The old diner at the
corner of Maynard and Vandam had long since been replaced by a parking garage
for a new medical facility Somehow the similarity of Buffalo Butte's Town Diner
to the one from her past was reassuring.
    "So
what'll it be today, Shep darlin?" A waitress—the only one as far as she
could see—spoke to Shep, but her eye was on Deanna. She even looked like the
Maynard Diner's Miss Fanny— heavy on the eyeliner and in a faded pink uniform
with a spotless white apron. All that was missing was the little pleated frill
in her tightly permed hair.
    Shep
grabbed a laminated menu from behind a miniature jukebox listing golden oldies
and, glancing up, answered the inevitable question in her eyes. "Maisy let
me introduce you to Deanna Manetti. Deanna, this is Maisy O'Donnall. She and
her husband run the best diner in town."
    "That's
because it's the only diner in town," Maisy shot back, not quite
appeased by Shep's brief introduction. "Manetti? That's