Free Winsor, Linda by Along Came Jones Page B

not a local name
is it?"
    "I'm
from New York." Deanna extended a manicured hand. "Pleased to meet
you, Mrs. O'Donnall."
    "Lord
'a mercy, just call me Maisy. Last time I heard Mrs. Anything was right
after I said 'I do.'"
    "Miss
Manetti is just checking out the place before she decides to take a job in
Great Falls and relocate permanently from the East," Shep said. "Or
she was until that blamed stallion ran her off the road and wrecked her car.
She's been stranded out at Hopewell."
    "Now
I could think of worse folks to be stranded with." The wink Maisy gave him
was outrageous.
    "It's
just till my car is fixed," Deanna mumbled, shooting an uncertain look at
Shep. Where had that come from? Was it the answer to her shaky prayer or
her desperation to stay at Hopewell until she had wheels again?
    "Honey,
if I was you, I'd take some irreplaceable thingamajig out of that vehicle and
hide it, if you get my drift."
    And
Miss Fanny had also flashed that same flirtatious twinkle Maisy directed at
Shep.
    "Don't
pay any attention to her," he said. "She runs on that way to all the
men. And if they're single, her sole purpose in life is to herd them to an
altar to alter their status."
    "It's
a scientific fact that married men live longer than single ones," Maisy
rallied, her ample bosom swelling beneath the bib of her apron like that of a
ruffled hen.
    "Hey,
Mais, where's that coffee?" one of the patrons at the counter called out.
    "Now,
Homer darlin', you know full well where it is," the waitress hollered over
her shoulder. She turned back to Deanna with a woman-to-woman wink. "I'm
making Shep's New York girlfriend here welcome. It wouldn't do for her to think
we were antisocial."
    It
was almost like going back to the safety and security of another era... except
instead of Gram, a tall, dark, and handsome cowboy sat across from her, a flush
climbing up from his collar. Maybe Shep wasn't as impervious to his
surroundings as he'd have others think. Or instead of being embarrassed, he was
quietly fuming over her presumption that she was staying at Hopewell for the
next six weeks.
    "I'll
have a burger and fries," he said quickly in an obvious effort to bring
Maisy back to the point of their visit. "What'll you have, Miss
Manetti?"
    The
earlier tease in his voice had hardened as well. She shouldn't have mentioned
it in front of someone. Why couldn't she just let things develop without taking
over the controls? This mess with C. R. scrambled her brain and undermined the
faith she sought to dust off.
    Deanna
skimmed over the menu, unable to focus on the specials. Finally she seized upon
a picture of a soup and sandwich meal. "A cup of the chicken soup looks
good. Oh, and a diet cola." Her mouth had gone dry as the dirt on
Hopewell's main street.
    "Landsakes,
gal, no wonder you got so many sharp corners. Men 'round these parts like their
women more rounded, if you get my drift."
    She
squirmed under Maisy's disapproval. "I had a late breakfast." No
doubt, the waitress would make her eat every drop of soup, just as Miss Fanny
always had. After Deanna's loved ones had passed on, she thought people had
stopped caring. Maybe that was why she'd been such a dupe when it came to C. R.
and his seeming solicitous attentions.
    Maisy
shifted her attention back to Shep. "You want coffee as usual?" At
his nod, she leaned over and said in a sawmill whisper, "Take care of this
one and she'll round out nice as me."
    "Well,
you've done it now," he remarked, watching the waitress retreat behind the
counter.
    "Done
what?" Deanna gave him a startled look. This was it. He would insist on
taking her back to Great Falls.
    "Now
everyone within satellite range of Buffalo Butte will know that I'm harboring a
waif from the Big Apple who doesn't have enough meat on her bones to tempt a
hungry buzzard... leastwise, to Maisy's notion."
    She
mustered a laugh more of relief than humor, but it was short lived.
    "You
know, Deanna Manetti, I get the feeling that you're not telling me