An Angel for Dry Creek by Janet Tronstad Read Free Book Online Page A

soon,” the Bullet continued. She knows where I’m going. Oh, not the location. But she knows the why. “A week or so is all.”
    Millie nodded again and stood up. “Better take another sweater. It’s cold in Spokane.” She walked to the closet.
    â€œNo, let me.” The Bullet intercepted her. He didn’t want Millie to be part of any of this, not even the packing.
    â€œDon’t go. You don’t have to go.” Millie turned to him and spoke fiercely.
    â€œI already told my uncle I was coming,” the Bullet said slowly. It was too late to change his mind.

Chapter Three
    M atthew stared at the glass coffeepot in his hand. He’d come to the hardware store at eight o’clock just like any other regular working day. But never before had the coffeepot been so sparkling clean and never before had a can of gourmet hazelnut coffee stood beside it. Old Henry was fussy about his coffee, and he always made it plain and strong. “Nothing fancy,” he’d often say. “My customers are ranchers, not ballet dancers.”
    Glory and Matthew had shared a ride to the store after dropping the twins off at the church’s nursery. “I think your customers might like some of these coffee flavors,” Glory said.
    â€œCoffee flavors?” Matthew hadn’t slept well last night and he wanted his coffee thick and black with no frills. It wasn’t the sofa that had kept him awake or even the pain in his knee. No matter how many times he turned over on the old sofa, his mind kept wandering back to dreams of Glory. Now he needed a good kick of coffee to keep him awake.
    â€œYou know, orange, raspberry, chocolate,” Glory replied as she pulled the three bottles out of her purse. She hadn’t slept well last night. She assured herself it was the creaking of the old house that had kept her awake and not the picture that stayed in her mind of Matthew adding more wood to the fire last night. She had gotten up this morning determined to make good progress on her painting today. That meant coffee.
    â€œThat’s nice,” Matthew said as he tried to hide as much of the white doily under the sugar bowl as he could. He’d have to tell Elmer and Jacob that the doily was a Christmas decoration. He expected they’d tolerate the concept of a few holiday decorations more kindly than the idea that their domain was being citified. Citified wasn’t popular here. As it was, the two old men spent half their time here arguing about the dude ranch over on the Big Sheep Mountain Ranch. Anything that smacked of change and city people was suspect. And coffee flavors. The next thing you knew she’d want a…
    â€œCappuccino machine—that’s what we need,” Elmer said a half hour later. He was sipping his orange-flavored coffee most politely and beaming at Glory as she set up her easel. “I’ve always had a hankering to have one of those coffees.”
    â€œI don’t even know if they have a cappuccino machine in Miles City. We’d have to send to Billings to buy one,” Matthew protested.
    What was wrong with Elmer? Once he’d complained because Henry put a different kind of toilet paper in the bathroom. And yet, here he was, wearing a new white shirt, the kind he only wore to funerals. “And no one’s complained before. You’ve always liked the usual.”
    â€œBut sometimes it’s good to have a change,” Glory said from her place by the window.
    â€œYeah, don’t be such an old stick-in-the mud,” Jacob said as he peered into his coffee cup suspiciously. Apparently Jacob didn’t find anything too alarming in his cup, because he took a hot, scalding gulp. “Ahh, none of us are too old to try something new.”
    â€œI thought I’d set Susie’s sketch up in the display window, too,” Glory said. It had occurred to her last night that most gas stations wouldn’t