Fried Pickles and the Fuzz by Calico Daniels Read Free Book Online Page B

alone in the quiet restaurant.
    With T he Pickle closed for the rest of the day , the only thing Heather had to contend with now was her box ed lunch for the auction. Well, that and the auction itself. Knowing that Bronson would be there as the auctioneer sent her stomach rolling.
    They hadn’t spoken since Thursday , when she had gone all crazy - psycho on him after her depressing phone call with Carl, the local bank manager. The loan she had applied for to purchase a small farm on the edge of town had been denied . Unless she could come up with a bigger downpayment , she was out of luck. Now she was stuck trying to find another place to keep Gus that Bronson would approve of , and her week was almost up.
    She sighed. There was nothing she could do about it today though , so she might as well get in the Big Creek Day s’ spirit and join in the festivities.
    In years past, the contents of her box ed lunch contribution had consisted of her double - battered fried chicken, fried yellow squash , and mashed potatoes, but this year she just couldn’t get in the frying mood. Instead of fighting it , she decided to just let her instincts kick in and see what her imagination would bring forth. Moving around the kitchen on autopilot , she prepared a lunch for two of BLTs on homemade sourdough bread with crispy hickory - smo ked bacon and heirloom tomatoes, spicy jalapeno chips , and a decadent peach pie for dessert. Topped off with a half gallon of T he Pickle’s sweetened peach tea , and it was a box ed lunch any southern girl could be proud of.
    Now if only she could come up with an apology to match , she might not be stuck eating crow.
    ****
    â€œSheriff, can I talk to you for a minute?”
    Bronson looked up from the mountain of paperwork on his desk and suppressed a shiver. Beth Ann stood just inside the office door, her fiery red hair pulled up in a haphazard ponytail that reminded him vaguely of Medusa. Not that he would ever breathe that comparison out loud , but Heather ’ s best friend was a veritable pit bull when it came to defending those she cared about. He’d seen it firsthand on a couple of occasions , and it left him wondering how Billy kept even a scrap of his masculinity intact when the two butted heads about anything. “I’m a little busy right now. Any chance it can wait until later?”
    Beth Ann walked up to his desk, planted her fists on the paper littered surface , and glared at him. “Nope.”
    â€œIn that case, sure , I’ve got a minute.” Leaning back in his chair, Bronson folded his arms across his chest and did his best to look as intimidating as she did. Somehow he seriously doubted it was working , though.
    â€œGood. First off, when are you gonna open up your eyes and realize that what Heather’s doing for that mangy old horse goes a lot deeper than just some bleeding heart wanting to take in strays?”
    â€œI’m not sure I follow.”
    â€œThen pay attention, Sheriff,” she practically spat the last word, “because I’m only gonna say it once , and you sure aren’t going to hear it from anyone else in town. Granny Joy was sweet on Gus’ s old owner. That crotchety old fart would sooner poke you in the eye as to look at you , but he and Joy had something special for about the last five years or so of Joy’s life. For some reason , that mean old man made her happy. Brought a sparkle back into her life that died when her husband passed on nearly twenty years ago.”
    â€œWhat does that have to do with Gus?”
    Beth Ann cast him a threatening glare. “I’m getting to it. Old man Tucker wanted to put Gus down about three years ago, just before Heather left for college , and Joy wouldn’t stand for it. Said she’d quit cookin’ for him if he did , so he kept him. Just to please Joy. To Heather, that horse is more than just a raggedy old bag of bones. He’s something special, flesh