Davis has seven Twitter aliases. I am aware that Marlene Lange auditioned for American Idol . For heaven’s sake, I know that Dale Parker is going in for a colonoscopy tomorrow, so how in the world did I miss the fact that Eternity Springs’s very own sheriff is being honored as a hero by the governor’s office tonight?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t tell anyone.”
“He didn’t tell anyone,” Ali repeated, gazing up toward the ceiling and shaking her head in frustration. “So spill it, Turner. Why are you being honored?”
He winced. “They’re gonna yammer on about it later. Truly, it’s not that interesting. Now, let’s get that champagne and I’ll tell you something you’ll really want to know. A prime bit of Eternity Springs news.” He placed his hand at the small of her back and guided her toward the bar.
Despite his relaxed attitude, Ali could tell he wasn’t comfortable. She didn’t know him well enough to know if he simply didn’t like the attention or if it wasthe incident itself that bothered him, so she let it drop. “Something I want to know, hmm?”
“Yep.” He ordered two glasses of champagne from the bartender, handed one of them to her, then saluted her with his glass. “To new friends.”
“New friends,” she replied with a smile, toasting him back. “And interesting news.”
He clinked their glasses, bent his head toward her, and murmured, “I have the scoop—pun intended—on the new ice cream flavors being unveiled next week at the opening of the Creamery.”
“How did you manage that?” Ali asked, arching her brows. “Did you confiscate the truck?”
She knew that the opening of the Taste of Texas Creamery for the summer season was a highly anticipated event and that speculation over the season’s flavors lasted for months. There was even a betting pool at the Red Fox Pub to guess the flavors.
Ali’s friend and the town veterinarian, Nic Callahan, had explained what all the fuss was about. The ice cream shop’s owner, Jared Kelley, taught at a small private college in Texas during the school year, but for the past few years he’d spent his summers in Eternity Springs. Because he had a passion for the ice cream made in a small south-central Texas town, he’d had a summer supply shipped to him each May. After three consecutive years of running out of the creamy concoction by mid-June, Jared made the decision to open Taste of Texas. He owned his own refrigerated truck and made the fifteen-hour run to the factory whenever required.
“Confiscate the truck? Are you kidding? Someonewould knock me down, steal my gun, and shoot me if I tried to do that.”
Ali laughed. “I have this sudden mental picture of Reverend Hart doing a kung-fu kick and—”
“Alison,” a chilly and familiar voice interrupted from behind her. “It’s time we took our seats.”
SIX
Mac couldn’t recall the last time he’d been this furious.
He’d waited for his wife for twenty minutes beyond the time when they’d needed to depart their home in order to reach the Brown Palace with a comfortable cushion. It wasn’t until he’d grabbed his phone and car keys from the console by the front door where he’d left them an hour earlier that he’d found her text message. He’d listened for the phone to ring but had ignored notice of incoming texts—a reasonable act considering that Ali had never once sent him a text before today.
He’d stewed about the situation all the way downtown. He’d wanted to hash out their problems in private before they faced the public. She would have known that, too.
Communication between the two of them had been next to nothing since she left. No phone calls, just a brief exchange of terse emails over a couple of issues with the kids, a question he had about her credit card bill, and one she had about the warranty on her tires. He’d pictured her having a blowout on a hairpin mountain curve, and he’d wanted to ask why she needed the warranty
He shrugged. “I didn’t tell anyone.”
“He didn’t tell anyone,” Ali repeated, gazing up toward the ceiling and shaking her head in frustration. “So spill it, Turner. Why are you being honored?”
He winced. “They’re gonna yammer on about it later. Truly, it’s not that interesting. Now, let’s get that champagne and I’ll tell you something you’ll really want to know. A prime bit of Eternity Springs news.” He placed his hand at the small of her back and guided her toward the bar.
Despite his relaxed attitude, Ali could tell he wasn’t comfortable. She didn’t know him well enough to know if he simply didn’t like the attention or if it wasthe incident itself that bothered him, so she let it drop. “Something I want to know, hmm?”
“Yep.” He ordered two glasses of champagne from the bartender, handed one of them to her, then saluted her with his glass. “To new friends.”
“New friends,” she replied with a smile, toasting him back. “And interesting news.”
He clinked their glasses, bent his head toward her, and murmured, “I have the scoop—pun intended—on the new ice cream flavors being unveiled next week at the opening of the Creamery.”
“How did you manage that?” Ali asked, arching her brows. “Did you confiscate the truck?”
She knew that the opening of the Taste of Texas Creamery for the summer season was a highly anticipated event and that speculation over the season’s flavors lasted for months. There was even a betting pool at the Red Fox Pub to guess the flavors.
Ali’s friend and the town veterinarian, Nic Callahan, had explained what all the fuss was about. The ice cream shop’s owner, Jared Kelley, taught at a small private college in Texas during the school year, but for the past few years he’d spent his summers in Eternity Springs. Because he had a passion for the ice cream made in a small south-central Texas town, he’d had a summer supply shipped to him each May. After three consecutive years of running out of the creamy concoction by mid-June, Jared made the decision to open Taste of Texas. He owned his own refrigerated truck and made the fifteen-hour run to the factory whenever required.
“Confiscate the truck? Are you kidding? Someonewould knock me down, steal my gun, and shoot me if I tried to do that.”
Ali laughed. “I have this sudden mental picture of Reverend Hart doing a kung-fu kick and—”
“Alison,” a chilly and familiar voice interrupted from behind her. “It’s time we took our seats.”
SIX
Mac couldn’t recall the last time he’d been this furious.
He’d waited for his wife for twenty minutes beyond the time when they’d needed to depart their home in order to reach the Brown Palace with a comfortable cushion. It wasn’t until he’d grabbed his phone and car keys from the console by the front door where he’d left them an hour earlier that he’d found her text message. He’d listened for the phone to ring but had ignored notice of incoming texts—a reasonable act considering that Ali had never once sent him a text before today.
He’d stewed about the situation all the way downtown. He’d wanted to hash out their problems in private before they faced the public. She would have known that, too.
Communication between the two of them had been next to nothing since she left. No phone calls, just a brief exchange of terse emails over a couple of issues with the kids, a question he had about her credit card bill, and one she had about the warranty on her tires. He’d pictured her having a blowout on a hairpin mountain curve, and he’d wanted to ask why she needed the warranty
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