Free Finders Keepers by Catherine Palmer Page B

life.
    Most of his nights had been spent in a sleeping bag on the floor. Meals were consumed from aluminum trays in front of the television set. A brown-and-black shag carpet underfoot had collected the debris of the multitude of children that roamed it—a million crumbs of cookies and potato chips, dozens of sharp-edged plastic blocks, a collection of headless action figures and green army men. Shelves held everything from half-empty cereal boxes to hairbrushes to chewed-up crayons.
    That had been home. Nothing like this.
    “Oh, it’s you.” Elizabeth’s voice held a note of disappointment. “I see you decided to pay a visit to my musty little junk shop.”
    A pang of guilt stabbed Zachary as he turned to find the woman crossing the room, her dark brown hair pulled up into a soft bun from which stray tendrils brushed against her neck. In the half light of the shop, her pale blue dress seemed to give off an angelic glow. She reached across a green brocade sofa and switched off a lamp.
    “I’m closing for the day,” she said. “Do you need something?”
    That question could be answered a dozen ways, Zachary thought, and most of them involved Miss Elizabeth Hayes.
    “I need to apologize,” he said, uncomfortable at the knot that seemed to have formed in his throat. “I shouldn’t have insulted your business. Finders Keepers is not a junk shop, and it’s definitely not musty. In fact, I came here to pay for my teacup. I picked one out the first time I was here, and then I forgot to take it with me.”
    “You ought to apologize for your behavior to me on the sidewalk the other morning. Pearlene Fox hasn’t stopped jabbering about it. Everyone in town knows what you did.”
    He lifted an eyebrow. “Apologize for kissing you under the awning?”
    “We weren’t under the awning. We were out in broad daylight. Al and Bud both saw it. Al thinks it’s the funniest thing in the world. He was filling up my gas tank yesterday, and he couldn’t stop giggling.”
    “Giggling?”
    “Yes, he was giggling!” She crossed her arms and regarded him.
    Zachary took a step closer. “I apologize for kissing you in broad daylight.”
    “Thank you.”
    “But,” he went on, moving near enough to catch a whiff of the floral scent she wore, “I’m not sorry I kissed you.”
    A pair of pink roses blossomed on her cheeks. “You didn’t have my permission, and I don’t like surprises. Besides that, if everybody in town thinks that you and I—”
    “When was the last time somebody kissed you, Elizabeth? Not counting me on the sidewalk.”
    “None of your business.”
    Her answer told him everything. “You intrigue me. You’re a beautiful woman, you’re obviously intelligent and ambitious, and you have a good heart. Obviously you want a family, or you wouldn’t have adopted Nick. So why aren’t you married?”
    “That also is none of your business.”
    She moved past him and picked up the teacup and saucer he had chosen. Vanishing behind a counter, she left only the whisper of her fragrance. Zachary leaned over, elbows on the glass top, as she emerged with a handful of purple tissue paper and a gift bag. He knew he’d be ushered out the door within the space of a minute if he couldn’t think of another topic that wouldn’t offend her.
    Why did he even care to keep this woman talking? She clearly disliked him. Didn’t she?
    “There you go.” She pushed the bag across the counter. “Twenty-five dollars. Plus tax.” On an old-fashioned register she rang up the purchase.
    “Nick says you think I’m a bloodsucking bleach,” he commented as he wrote out a check.
    Startled, she glanced up, her blue eyes wide. “Oh, Nick. He’s so blunt …” She shrugged. “He meant leech.”
    “So it’s true?”
    “My opinion of you is not high, Mr. Chalmers. If you and Phil Fox think you can bulldoze this town—”
    “Phil Fox came to my office to talk to me. Just like you did. Just like Nick and Montgomery did. That