Adam (Farraday Country Book One)

Chapter Eleven

"How's she working out?" Perched on a counter stool, Becky pointed her chin at Meg.

Abbie refilled her nearly empty glass of sweet tea. "Catching on. She's a fast learner."

"She does seem to fit in." All this week and last, since watching Meg scurry about on her first day, Becky had meant to come by and properly introduce herself to the new waitress, but one day had rolled into the next and so on down the line until now. Since the waitress herself had proven to be excellent at avoiding personal questions and still staying friendly, gossip around town was flying with all sorts of speculation. According to Ned she'd arrived at his shop almost two weeks ago at the crack of dawn wearing a wedding dress and left it stuffed in the trash can. From there things got a bit sketchy.

One faction insisted she'd been left at the altar by her high school sweetheart. Another group seemed to think she'd run off on a billionaire fiancé old enough to be her grandfather. And yet a few more seemed to think she'd made it through the ceremony and gotten cold feet on her wedding night and that her new husband was scouring every big city in the state looking for her. Becky had to laugh at that last one. Like there was such a thing as a virginal bride on her wedding night.

"Hash smothered and covered and pull the pork." Behind the counter, Meg smiled at Frank, the cook, and slapped the order onto the stick. With the ease of someone who had worked a country café for years, she grabbed the coffeepot and made the rounds, filling cups and making chitchat with the regulars.

"Certainly seems more certain of herself than she was last week," Becky agreed.

"And the place has never been busier. I've even got curious folks from neighboring towns coming in for lunch. Don't know how long she's staying, but I'm not complaining." A couple of guys Becky didn't recognize flagged Abbie down. "Gotta go. Like I said, business is great."

"There you are." Kelly, the clinic receptionist, stood beside Becky, glancing around for an empty booth or table.

Things were always pretty slow at the vet clinic on the days Adam made his ranch calls, so today she and Kelly decided to do a little honest-to-goodness fact-finding.

"Sorry it took me so long. I swear Ms. Peabody needs to find a man. Maybe if she had something else to keep her busy, she wouldn't be such a hypochondriac with her pets."

"Never happen." Becky grabbed her tea and followed Kelly to a nearby table. "Even when Mr. Peabody was alive, whatever ailed Nadine seemed to afflict one of her animals. Dealing with her on an almost daily basis is as much a fact of life as death and taxes."

"Still—"

"Afternoon, ladies." Meg appeared tableside with menus tucked under her arm. Waiting a moment for the two to settle in, she set a glass of water in front of each of them along with the menus. "Today's special is pot roast with carrots and skinny potatoes—"

"Skinny?" Kelly asked. "That's new."

Meg laughed. "Instead of cut in chunks, Frank sliced them like steak fries and is calling them skinny potatoes. My guess is he's hoping the power of suggestion will counteract the calories."

The two coworkers both laughed, but Kelly was the one to say, "If only."

Pad and pen in hand, Meg looked to Kelly first. "Would you like something else to drink?"

"No." She sighed. "Until I lose my birthday pounds, it will be water for me."

"Birthday pounds?" Meg frowned, and Becky rolled her eyes.

"Yeah." Kelly blew out another heavy sigh. "I sort of ate almost the whole cake all by myself. And the cupcakes Abbie made too."

Shaking her head, Becky reached for the menu. "I'd kill for a few of those curves you're complaining about."