Читать книгу No Place Like Home - Debra Clopton, Elizabeth Wiseman Mackey, Debra Clopton - Страница 12

The welcome committee had grown to include several other women by the time Lacy and Cassie came rolling back in the Caddy.

“We’re not gonna let you girls leave here,” Esther Mae declared as Dottie set a pan of fresh fudge on the table that now had a rug beneath it and flowers in its center. “You two fit in with us like peas in a pod.”

“That’s right,” Norma Sue agreed. “Why, the moment Sam told Adela you were here and Adela called me, I had a good feeling.”

Dottie laughed. “I thanked the Lord for letting me break down in such a nice place.” She was trying not to think about what was cooking in their one-track minds.

“I think that’s so neat the way you followed Molly’s stories, Cassie,” Lilly Wells said, giving the girl a thumbs-up. “You just might find yourself a cowboy, if you really want one.”

“I’m glad my articles are making an impact,” Molly Popp added, flipping her rust-colored hair over her shoulder before placing a piece of fudge on her napkin. “I’m having unbelievable fun writing those stories. And the response has been overwhelming.”

“The post office has never seen so much mail,” Esther Mae added. “Hon, this fudge is so good my hips are expanding just smelling the stuff. And I don’t even give a hoot.”

Lacy’s nail tech, Sheri Marsh, paused before shoving a huge piece of extra-dark fudge into her mouth. “Where did you learn to make this? You need to know that I might be skinny, but I’m training to be a professional eater. And I think I just discovered my competitive food category.” She laughed and finished off the hunk of candy.

Dottie was amazed. Lacy had introduced her as the only woman she could think of who would’ve dropped everything to drive five hundred miles for a cup of coffee and the chance to share an adventure with her.

Dottie had a vivid picture in her mind of the two of them riding cross-country in the Caddy. It wouldn’t have been boring, of that she was certain. And for the life of her, she didn’t know where all that fudge was going! Sheri was about the size of Olive Oyl and she’d put away at least six pieces of the rich stuff.

That in itself was a testament to her grandma Sylvia’s candy-making talent. Dottie was embarrassed to accept all the praise the fudge was getting. She loved to cook, and had loved having her shop. Its reputation had grown so that she’d been able to make a nice profit from its sale. The money was enough to get her set up in California, but she still felt like an impostor when people complimented her cooking abilities.

“My grandma and Mom passed their talent and love of cooking down to me. And their recipes,” she said, giving credit where it was due.

“Really,” Lacy said, tapping her tangerine fingernails on the tabletop. “You know, Mule Hollow could use a good restaurant. Have you thought about that possibility? Just don’t do an all-you-can-eat buffet— Sheri’d bankrupt you.”

Dottie tugged at her earlobe, perplexed by their inability to hear any phrase resembling “no.” “Well, um, like I said, I have obligations to fulfill elsewhere. Though I dearly love Mule Hollow, I really do. I’m opening an old-fashioned candy store in California.”