Lily’s nostrils flared slightly as she inhaled. “Mr. Shepard. I don’t appreciate you making light of my concerns. I think I know the mind-set of folks here better than you. Even if you stay a year, you’re still only passing through. I live here. Will always live here. It would be a kindness if you would take that into account. The next time you make to walk off with my daughter, I will holler bloody murder.”
“Bloody murder? That’s an awful expression. Do you read dime novels? I believe they’re still popular. I used to read Nat Church’s adventures. That sounds like something he would say.”
“Mr. Shepard.”
“Yes?”
“I mean for you to take me seriously.”
“Hmm. Why didn’t you holler bloody murder when we were standing in the sheriff’s doorway? Seems as if that would have been the time to do it. He was right there, sitting behind his desk, nursing a cup of coffee and watching the goings-on with what I would call a peculiar level of interest. I think he would have gotten up if you had hollered. But you didn’t. Why is that?”
Lily didn’t—couldn’t—respond. She stared at him instead.
Roen went on conversationally, “Anyway, I don’t think you holler.”
A muscle jumped in her cheek. “Perhaps not, but I can scream, Mr. Shepard, and right now you’re making me want to scream.”
He nodded slowly. “I’ve heard that before. My piano teacher. Hedidscream, but then he was dramatic about taking his seat on the piano bench, so it was to be expected. You are not dramatic, Mrs. Salt.”
Lily leaned back the few inches necessary to sit up straight again. Beneath her emerald green shawl, she squared her shoulders. Her gaze was direct, unflinching. “What is it that you want from me?”
“Company.”
“Really? Company? Not a sparring partner?”
Roen turned his head to greet Dolly as she approached with their drinks. “Ah, that didn’t take long. Thank you, Mrs. Mangold.”
“Dolly,” she said, setting a drink in front of each of them. “We discussed this before. I’m Dolly to nearly everyone. I hardly know how to answer to the other.”
“Dolly, then. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“See that you do.” She winked at him as she took a step back from the table. She wiped her hands on her apron and spoke to Lily. “Lizzie wants to drink her fizzy at the counter. It’s fine with me if you say the same.”
Lily nodded. “Thank you, Dolly. You’re good with her.”
“Wish I saw her more often. She reminds me of my Sarah when she was just a little thing. Same hair. Always jabbering when something caught her eye. Don’t you be a stranger either, Lily.” Dolly looked from Lily to Roen and back to Lily. Her smile remained unremarkably pleasant, but the look she leveled on Lily was significant.
When she was gone, Roen said, “What was that?”
“What?”
“That look she gave you. What was that?”
“I’m sure I don’t know. She winked at you. What was that?”
“That? I’m sure I don’t know.” Roen positioned the paper straw in his drink toward his mouth, bent his head, and sipped. “It’s good. Go on. Try it.”
Lily did. There was no point in not appreciating this special treat. “It’s delicious. Lizzie told me the bubbles tickle the back of her throat but I didn’t know what she meant.”
Roen’s eyebrows lifted. “This is your first time?”
She nodded and took a second sip. “The fountain bar is relatively new. Mickey and Dolly installed it at the beginning of summer. Clay brought his sisters and brother here several times. I came once, but I ordered tea. I suppose I thought that fizzy drinks were for children.”
“What do you think now?”
“I think I was wrong.”
Roen cocked his head to one side as he studied her. Lily’s face was a near perfect oval, and her features—except for her nose, which was a fraction left of center—were symmetricallyaligned. Her eyes were focused on her drink so he could see the curve of her long lashes. They were a shade darker than her rust-colored hair, which was mostly hidden by her hat. He had to call on the memory of Lily sitting in the rocker with the sun glancing off her shoulder and bare head to bring the richness of that color to mind. He was not an artist, as anyone in his family would attest, but he saw details with the eye of a camera lens and held on to them just as clearly.
