I scowled, then tugged off my leather boots in the entry, before making my way to an overstuffed chair by my aunt.
“That bad?” She muted whatever reality TV show she was watching as she scratched the top of Moose’s head, eliciting a loud purr from the cat.
“Oh,” I exhaled, and propped my feet up on an ottoman. “You know, the usual. Dad bragging about how well things are going with the town since he’s been mayor. Caleb prattling on about how great the real estate market is, and how he has the perfect house for me to buy, so I should hurry up and move on back. And then Mom gushing over the grandkids.”
“Yeah, that sounds about par for the course.” Fern picked up her mug and took a sip of what I assumed was her “special” tea. “So, no one asked about you then, I take it?”
“Not much. It’s like they didn’t notice I wasn’t there for most of the party last night. Or maybe they just don’t care. Wait,” I held up a finger. “I take that back. My mom cares enough to tell me I look puffy.”
Fern inhaled sharply, and I appreciated that she took offense on my behalf. It was nice that someone in my family was on my side. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t worry, my mother quickly followed that blunder with an explanation that she wasn’t implying I was fat,” I explained.
Fern called my mother an impolite name under her breath.
“But she said I seemed tired and stressed, and she worries I’m working too hard and not taking care of myself. I took that to mean that despite the fact that I work sixty-plus hours a week, I should be eating salads and going to the gym, instead of my diet of coffee and Mexican food.” I struggled to keep the sarcasm from my tone.
“Charlee, I think you need some tea.” Fern lowered the footrest on her recliner.
“Oh, no.” I waved my hands frantically. “I’m good.” The last time I had Fern’s tea was after things blew up with Kenny. I may have overindulged on the “special” part, and I swear I had a headache that lasted a week.
“You sure?” she didn’t look convinced. “Some hot chocolate then? I’ve got homemade whipped cream!”
“No thanks,” I sighed, defeated. “I’m puffy, remember?”
A controlled fury took over my aunt’s features, as she coaxed Moose from her lap and got up to walk to the kitchen. “Double whip it is!”
I scooted out of the chair and followed Fern into the kitchen, settling in at the small dining table as she made my hot cocoa. “I wanted to let you know that I plan on leaving in the morning,” I said reluctantly, knowing my aunt would be disappointed.
Fern stirred her homemade cocoa mix in a mug, and gave me a sad smile. “I figured that was coming.”
“I’ve been thinking about our conversation from this morning for most of the day, but at dinner tonight, I realized that I’m just not ready to be back here.”
Fern placed the hot chocolate before me, along with a dish of whipped cream. She knew me so well. I could eat the stuff like ice cream. “And it’s not just my family. It’s Kenny and Ashley, and—”
“What about Cole?” Fern waggled her eyebrows.
I laughed. “The sheriff?”
“Yes, he’s perfect for you,” she insisted. “And your family loves him, which I know you may not care about now, but that’s important for a long-term relationship to be successful.”
I knew she was speaking from experience. Her husband’s family had never been crazy about Fern and that had caused tension in their marriage. My Uncle Joe had been gone for about seven years now. He’d adored Fern, but that didn’t mean their relationship had been easy.
“Fine. What do you know about the sheriff?” I asked, giving in to my curiosity, however futile it was.
“Well…” Fern leaned forward in her chair. “He’s from California.”
“An outsider!” I gasped in mock horror. “And my family likes him?”
Fern giggled. “I know, but he saved the town.”
“Is this about that big drug bust my dad mentioned a while back?”
“Yes.”
A piercing howl filled the air, coming from somewhere outside. Fern and I looked out the window to the backyard. Unfortunately, with the lights on in the kitchen and it being dark outside, we couldn’t see a thing.
“The alpacas!” Fern shrieked. Scrambling out of our seats, we rushed for the door. Fern flipped on the porch lights and shoved a pair of rubber boots toward me.
Boots on, I raced into the yard, trying to adjust to the dimly-lit darkness. Then, back by the alpacas’ fenced enclosure, I saw a figure running, waving something in his arms.
“Go on, git!” a man hollered. “You mangy beast.”
“Hey!” I rushed toward the man, who I could now see was chasing one of the alpacas. “You, stop!” As I got closer, I could tell the man was older, overweight, and carrying what appeared to be a clam shovel.
He continued chasing the alpaca. “Hey! I said stop!” I yelled louder.
“Earl!” My aunt panted behind me. “What are you doing with that thing?”
The man stopped. “Fern!” He lowered the shovel to his side, leaning on it, breathing heavily and pointed an accusatory finger at my aunt. “Your stupid llamas got loose again and were destroying our flowers!”
“They’re alpacas,” Fern corrected. “And it’s November. I doubt there are many flowers left, other than mums, and I’ll replace—”
“Crazy woman!” Earl picked up the shovel and charged toward my aunt. “You have no regard for anything but yourself. And I’m sick and tired of your—”
Fern held up her hand. “Now, wait just a minute! There’s no need to get your panties in a bunch.”
A loud growl erupted from my aunt’s fuming neighbor. “No, you listen here! If those filthy, disgusting beasts get on my property again, I’m going to shoot them!”
Fern marched forward, until she stood toe to toe
