A Rich Man For Dry Creek And A Hero For Dry Creek. Janet Tronstad

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СКАЧАТЬ people here they would have spotted a stranger.”

      “They didn’t spot Santa Claus when he was the hit man and almost got that woman—the one they called Dry Creek’s angel,” he protested. “Besides, I’d prefer to come with you.”

      Jenny shrugged as she put on a jacket Mrs. Hargrove had lent her for the evening. “It’s just across the parking lot.”

      “You need someone to open the doors anyway.”

      Robert followed Jenny to the barn door. The sheriff and some of the other men were squatted down on the floor in one corner talking to the kidnappers.

      “Think they’re the last of the lot?” Robert asked the men as he stood by the door.

      The sheriff nodded. The man looked a lot more competent dealing with the kidnappers than when handling Laurel and her luggage. “I’m sure we’re safe for now anyway. He—” the sheriff jerked his head at the FBI agent “—thinks someone in Dry Creek is an inside informant on this rustling business, but even if that’s true we should be safe tonight.”

      Robert nodded his thanks as he opened the door for Jenny.

      The stars were no longer showing in the night sky and flakes of snow steadily blew in from the north. The men had stomped down much of the snow earlier but the boot prints were filling with the latest batch of snow.

      “I doubt half these cars will start,” Robert said as he looked at the twenty-some odd vehicles parked around the barn.

      Robert had never felt cold like this before. He’d given his coat to the old man earlier and had insisted the man keep it. Now he was glad one of the ranch hands had pressed a wool jacket into his hands as Robert was heading out. Even with the jacket, his heart pounded faster to keep warm. He’d swear his eyelids were freezing.

      “They’ve got jumper cables,” Jenny said through chattering teeth.

      A dim light was on in the café’s porch and Robert opened the porch door quickly. Even though the porch was boarded together and the wind blew in through some of the holes, it was several degrees warmer inside.

      “Let me get the door,” Robert said as he reached for the main door. “Do you have a key?”

      “It’s not locked. They left it open for us tonight.”

      “Then you better let me check it out first. Someone could have come inside.”

      In the yellow light of the porch, Jenny could see her breath come out in white puffs. Her lips were stiff from the cold and she felt snowflakes melting in her hair.

      “But what would you do anyway if someone was in there? You don’t have a weapon.”

      “Well, neither one of us has a weapon.”

      “I have this bowl.”

      “You wouldn’t dare break Mrs. Hargrove’s bowl over someone’s head. From what I hear, that bowl has served the punch for every wedding in this community for the past forty years. It’s practically a tradition all by itself.”

      “It is a nice bowl. Heavier than it looks, too. Real cut glass.”

      Robert had bent low and was looking in the glass panes of the café door. It looked like the only upright shadows inside were from chairs although it was hard to tell because the girls had used the café as a changing room and there were T-shirts and jeans everywhere. “I’m going in. Give it a minute and then follow.”

      The doorknob was as cold as any metal Robert had ever gripped. But it turned easily and he stepped into the café. The air inside still smelled of cooking. He thought it was the stuffed mushrooms he smelled.

      Robert flipped on the overhead light for the café and saw that the jumble looked undisturbed from the last time he had walked through. “Let me check out the kitchen first before you come in.”

      Without waiting for an answer, Robert walked toward the back of the room where the kitchen door was. The café was small so he reached the other side with a few strides. The light in the kitchen revealed all was safe there, as well.

      Robert heard the cell phone ring on the porch. It must still be in Jenny’s apron pocket. He’d bet a punch bowl full of pudding that it was Jenny’s sister calling. Which reminded him, he owed her a story. Assuming, of course, that she was able to get him off that cursed list.

      “For you,” Jenny called as she walked across the café and into the kitchen. “It’s my sister.”

      Jenny listened as Robert and her sister talked. Robert paced as he walked. Up and down the cold kitchen. His cheeks were red from the temperature and his dark hair was wet where snow had melted now that he was in the relative warmth of the kitchen. He looked excited though, wheeling and dealing with her sister. He said goodbye with laughter.

      “Your sister is something,” Robert reported as he hung up the phone. “Those editors will have their hands full with her.”

      “She is, isn’t she?”

      The outside door to the café opened and Jenny and Robert both stiffened until they heard Mrs. Hargrove. “I hope you’re not doing dishes at this time of night.”

      The kitchen door opened and the older woman stood there with a wool scarf wrapped around her head and a blanket thrown over her shoulders like a shawl. “We’ve had so much excitement tonight, the dishes need to wait. Tomorrow’s Saturday. Enough snow is predicted to close all the roads. We’ll have nothing better to do than dishes. I’ve already asked Mr. Gossett to help us. It’ll help settle him down. He’s been anxious lately.”

      “But if the roads are closed, we won’t be able to get to the café from Garth’s ranch,” Jenny said. “And I can’t leave the two of you with all these dishes.”

      “I’ve got extra rooms at my house. You’re both welcome to spend the night at my place.”

      “Robert doesn’t need to,” Jenny began in alarm. A man like him shouldn’t be helping with cleanup.

      “I’d be delighted.” Robert accepted the older woman’s invitation.

      Robert grinned. Things were working out better than he could have hoped. He’d have some talking time with Jenny tonight and tomorrow.

      “I already invited your friend—” Mrs. Hargrove smiled at Robert.

      Robert’s grin froze.

      “—or fiancée, I guess I should say. Considering that she brought a wedding dress with her to Dry Creek.”

      “She brought a what!”

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