Free Only You by Deborah Grace Stanley

given her when she’d won her first regional spelling bee.
    How dare she? How dare that woman lecture her on appropriate conduct? Social status indeed. She made it sound as if this was England or something, and she a titled lady. Obviously Mrs. McKay was still living in another decade. Another century even.
    Josie stabbed at the power button on her computer and waited an eternity for it to boot.
    “Dr. Allen?” Teresa had opened Josie’s door only far enough to look inside.
    “Come in, Teresa. And call me Josie.”
    “Oh. I couldn’t possibly. Mrs. McKay—”
    “Look, Teresa, Mrs. McKay may sign the checks, but I’ll not be her protégé, regardless of what she dictates.”
    “O—kay…” Teresa said slowly.
    “I’m sorry, Teresa. I’ve had nothing but a string of bad days and my mood is not the best. What did you need?”
    “ Um , I hate to tell you this, but the network’s crashed again.”
    Josie rubbed her forehead. “Not again. This is the last thing I need.”
    “I’m sorry. I’ve tried all the usual things, but nothing’s working.”
    “You’ve checked all the cables?”
    “Yes.”
    Josie sighed. “Have everyone log off the network, and I’ll see what I can do.”
    Teresa wrung her hands. “How will we check out books?”
    “We’ll have to go back to doing it the old-fashioned way. Have the clerks log every book with their locater numbers so that they can input them when I get the system back up.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Teresa?”
    “I’m sorry. Sure thing, Jo—Josie.”
    “Thanks, Teresa.”
     
    *
     
    “You’re burnin’ the midnight oil, Dixie.” Cole settled himself on a stool at the counter of Ferguson’s and helped himself to a doughnut from the covered cake plate sitting too close to resist.
    “Those pies and cakes you people consume don’t bake themselves magically.” She gave him a sweeping look. “Well, you look slightly better than you did earlier. I take it the picnic went well.”
    Cole bit into his doughnut. “Depends on your definition of well .”
    “Okay. You had fabulous food, a picture perfect day, and the woman of your dreams sitting with you on a picnic blanket. Surely even you couldn’t screw that up.”
    “It rained, ending the picnic abruptly.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin and added, “How ’bout a cup of coffee?”
    “Did it rain?”
    The false innocent look on Dixie’s face said it all. He pointed a finger at her. “You knew!” He slapped the counter. The television in the diner was always set to the Weather Channel or CNN.
    She leaned in. “Gettin’ all wet and havin’ to take the woman to her house to change can’t have been all that bad.”
    “Well now, that did happen, but there was a snag. A couple of them.”
    “Such as.”
    “Such as, first, we had to run for cover under the awning of the bank. I’m sure someone scurried straight to Mrs. McKay about it. Then there was Old Maid Church, who just happened by on her way to the Historical Society Meeting at the library and saw us. A meeting Josie was supposed to attend. Needless to say, she was late.”
    “I’ll just bet Mrs. McKay gave poor Josie you know what over it, too.”
    “I’d say that’s a safe assumption. I’d also say it’s likely she never wants to see me again.”
    Dixie looked at her watch. “Closin’ time. I bet Josie’s still holed up over at the library like she is most nights.”
    “Yep.”
    “Did you call her earlier?”
    “No.”
    She propped a hand on her narrow hip. “Well, why not?”
    “I been busy.” He wiped his hands on his napkin. “I had to go home and change after that farce of a picnic—”
    “It can’t have been all bad.”
    Well, there had been moments . . . He frowned and continued. “Then Mr. DeFoe had a mess of shelves I spent all afternoon rightin’. Then I had to go back home—”
    Dixie snapped him with a rolled up dishtowel. “I didn’t miss that cow-eyed look on your face when you got sidetracked a minute