Suddenly he realized both of them were staring at him.
“What?”
“You in a fog, boy? I asked about Webb Francis.”
“Sorry. I didn’t hear you.”
It was a pathetic excuse but better than letting either know he was steeling himself to ignore the attraction he felt around the pretty visitor.
“He’s going to his sister’s to finish recuperating. She’s insisting.”
“Family rallies around when needed,” Hiram said.
When they left a short time later, Angelica had her translation in hand.
“I appreciate your grandfather helping me,” she told Kirk as they drove off.
She turned for one last glimpse of the house and the dog lying in the dirt looking like he’d lost his best friend.
“That surprises me. He’s usually more standoffish with strangers. He likes Smoky Hollow to be old residents, I think. Not that he goes to town that much.”
“Why not?”
“He’s feuding with half the town it seems like.”
“Apparently not Webb Francis, he asked after him.”
“They get along fine. Hope Webb Francis makes the festival. It shouldn’t be that hard to sit and enjoy the music. Betsy would have to bring him.”
“Is she the sister? It must be nice to have family around in times of need.”
He flicked her a glance.
“Aren’t yours?”
“I’m sure they would. But sometimes too much of a good thing can be smothering.”
“Want to get a bite to eat at the diner?” he asked as they reached town.
“I’d like that.”
Seated in a red vinyl booth a few minutes later, Angelica was reading the menu when an older woman stopped by.
“Hey, Kirk. How are you?”
He half rose and nodded.
“Miz Harper. I’m doing fine. Yourself?”
“Arthritis acting up, but that’s nothing new.”
She looked at Angelica.
Kirk made introductions.
“Heard from Alice the other day. She and her husband were going to the Caribbean for vacation. Sure wish she’d settled here.”
“Yes, ma’am, I reckon we all do,” he said.
