When Megan reached the counter, Clara had her food ready. Megan took a table near the window and ate the food while she watched the sleepy town. It was like stepping back in time. A young boy stopped his bicycle in front of the store and his thongs slapped bare heels as he entered.

"Aunt Clara, Mom needs some of that stuff you spray on the furniture."

"Furniture polish?" Clara took a can from the shelf and handed it to him.

"Thanks. She said she'd be in to pay you tonight." He turned to leave and spotted Megan. He leaned close to his aunt and spoke in an audible whisper.

"Who's the pretty lady?"

Megan glanced around and then realized the boy was referring to her. Pretty? Too bad Denton didn't hear that - even if it did come from the lips of a child. Make-up could do wonders.

Clara patted him on the head. "She's the lady who's renting the Foreman place. Now run along."

The boy obediently headed for the door. "Oh, I almost forgot." He stopped at the door. "Dad said your tires are in. He said to bring your car by tonight and he'd put them on." He ran out to his bicycle and pushed the kickstand back while he peered through the window.

Megan smiled and waved at him and he smiled back, waving as he jumped on his bike. With a precarious tilt of the bicycle, he turned and rode off.

What a friendly town. How much did everyone know about her? She finished her food and threw the paper plate in the trash.

"Is there a public phone that I could use?"

Clara pointed to a phone on the wall. "Over there. I had it put in because so many customers discovered their cell phones don't work here in the hills."

"Thanks." She hated to call Dad from the store. How much of what she said would be repeated? Maybe she was too private. She dialed the number and waited while the phone rang. A soft voice answered.

"O'Hara Incorporated. May I help you?"

"Colin O'Hara, please."

"May I tell him who is calling?"

"Megan O'Hara."

"One moment please." No one but Clarissa could be so cool and professional at the same time.

After a pause Mr. O'Hara answered. "Megan, where are you now?"

"In a small town in Northwest Arkansas, I'm sure it isn't on the map. It's a friendly place, though. Rather nostalgic."

"Just because people are friendly doesn't mean you can let your guard down."

She hesitated. Maybe she should ask him if he sent the man. But if he didn't, he would be worried.




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