The Bridal Quest. Jennifer Mikels

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      Chapter Three

      At the ring of the bell above the door, Jessica looked up from pouring the sheriff’s coffee. An ample-hipped, gray-haired woman and two fair-haired minxes rushed in. Jessica smiled at the sight of the green baseball cap propped on the head of the little blonde.

      “Daddy,” the one with soft brown hair yelled.

      Both girls raced from the door ahead of the woman.

      With the cup in her hand, Jessica scanned the restaurant for the face of a proud-looking papa. In midstride, she stilled as the two flew to the sheriff’s side.

      Rapid-fire, they rambled at him. “Amanda is always coloring outside the lines,” the youngest was saying in a tone meant to indicate that that was the ultimate no-no. Smiling at her, her daddy lifted the cap from his daughter’s head and set it on the booth seat beside him.

      Jessica couldn’t help smiling. The girls were absolutely adorable.

      And motherless.

      She recalled that Cory had said he was a widower, and she felt a tug on her heart. You’re too sensitive, Jessica, her mother had often said. Jessica hadn’t thought that was such a terrible trait. She’d admit to having a weakness for children and loved being around them. So what was wrong with that?

      She looked forward to having her own some day, and their father would be a man she loved, she reminded herself. That’s why she was going through all this. So her family realized that she would accept nothing less.

      After she delivered the sheriff’s coffee and a hot tea for the woman and chocolate milk for the girls, a brief lunch rush kept her busy. When she looked in the sheriff’s direction again, she saw that he’d left his booth to talk to a man sitting at the counter.

      Jessica turned in an order for a cheeseburger and fries. Unable to resist, she moseyed over to his daughters. She said hi, but the elderly woman seated in the booth across from the girls was the one who snagged her attention. She looked pale, and beads of perspiration popped out on her forehead. “Ma’am, are you all right?”

      The woman sent Jessica a weak smile. “I’m fine.”

      She definitely didn’t look fine.

      “Mrs. Mulvane, are you sick?” the oldest girl asked with wide eyes.

      “I have this terrible heartburn,” the woman was saying. She ran a hand down her throat as if she could ease away the discomfort by touch.

      Jessica managed to veil her concern behind a sympathetic smile, then did an about-face. In a few strides, she weaved her way to the sheriff. The idea of not interrupting was never an option. She laid a hand on his forearm to get his attention. When he faced her, momentary puzzlement touched his eyes. “Sheriff, I think the lady with your daughters is having a heart attack.”

      To his credit, he didn’t hesitate longer than a second. “Take my girls to another booth,” he demanded, already on his way to them.

      Only a step behind him, Jessica hustled the girls from their seats while he bent over the woman. She ushered them with their drinks to a booth at the back of the diner, then blocked their view of the action near the door. “What are your names?”

      “I’m Annie,” the oldest said. “And this is my sister Casey. I’m six. And she’s four. Who are you?”

      “I’m Jessica.”

      “Can I call you Jesse?” the younger one asked.

      Jesse. She liked the sound of the name. Different life. Different name. Already Cory had shortened her name to Jess. Why not Jesse? “I’d like that,” she said to the little one, and worked to keep them preoccupied enough so they didn’t see everyone assisting the woman. “Are you ladies here with your husbands?” she asked, directing her question to Annie who bubbled cheerily and nonstop about everything.

      With her question, Casey leaned her blond head close to her sister’s darker one and giggled behind her hand.

      “We don’t have husbands,” Annie said. “We’ve got our daddy.” Pride filled her voice. “He’s the sheriff. That’s an important job.”

      Slurping on her straw, Casey craned her neck to see around Jessica. “Uh-huh.”

      Annie went on, “I go to school. My teacher’s name is Mrs. Hooper. Next year I get Mrs. Bowcott. I had chicken pox, a mild case, the nurse told my daddy. But I had funny spots all over.”

      “Polka dots,” Casey said and giggled again.

      Jessica smiled along with them. They looked so much alike. Though Casey was a blonde and Annie had brown hair with blond streaks, they had similar heart-shaped faces, pouty mouths, pert noses and large blue eyes.

      “Our mommy is in heaven,” Annie announced.

      Looking solemn, Casey nodded her head.

      Jessica studied them both for a long moment, saw no painful grief in their eyes, but was at a loss about what to say. Their daddy unknowingly saved her.

      With his approach, Casey jumped from the chair and rushed to him. “Is Mrs. Mulvane sick?” she asked while he lifted her up.

      Annie offered her opinion. “Daddy, Mrs. Mulvane looked bad.”

      Casey nodded. “Real bad.”

      In a reassuring gesture, he ran a large hand over Annie’s head. “The doctors will take good care of her.” His eyes shifted from her to Jessica. “Thanks for helping.”

      “You’re welcome.” Assuming they’d have plenty of questions for him, she scooted out of the booth so he could slide in. “I’m glad I could help.” On that note, she hurried away. Being with his children was one thing, spending any time with him undoubtedly would prove as nerve-wracking as before. She returned to the cook’s counter, expecting Herb’s censure for sitting so long with them, but he said nothing.

      “What you did was nice,” Cory whispered when standing beside her and waiting for orders. “In a small town, people help each other without being asked. You aren’t as much of a newcomer now.”

      Jessica warmed. Though she doubted that even her new status would help her keep her job, she learned she’d scored a few points with Herb.

      And with two little girls. Before they left, they raced to her with thank-yous that had her smiling most of the afternoon.

      A reality check hit at three o’clock. Ready to leave, she stood in the employee break room, thinking about where she could go for the night. She didn’t even have a car to sleep in.

      She counted her tips and closed her eyes. Her net worth was twenty-one dollars and thirty-five cents. So now what? Before leaving the motel this morning, she’d paid for last night’s room СКАЧАТЬ