“I’m okay,” Zach promised Rhonda, cutting her off at the pass. “Billy lets me sleep in the guest room and feeds me three square meals a day. He pays me more than I really earn, too. Plus,” Zach added, “Jose and his family have basically adopted me. Jose’s mother brings me food and is always shoving a few dollars into my pocket. The poor woman thinks I’m destitute.” Zach smiled at the thought of Jose’s mother. “I’m growing very fond of the woman.”

  “I love Jose’s mother,” Rhonda agreed. “Sweetest woman in the world. And she sure keeps Billy in his place.”

  Zach nodded. “Sweet as apple pie,” he said and then went back to his work. “Well…have a good trip, okay? I better get this hay stacked. Billy wants me to help Jose work on a conveyer belt later. I know Jose doesn’t need the help, but if it makes Billy happy.”

  “It sure does,” Billy said in his southern farmer’s voice. “Jose is going to show you how to start troubleshooting them there conveyer belts and tractors to boot.”

  Zach saw Billy step up beside Rhonda wearing a thick brown pair of overalls and his ball cap. “Jose does a good job at those chores, Billy.”

  “Why, sure he does.” Billy nodded as Rhonda joined him. “But a man who ain’t willing to learn ain’t worth much. Jose can teach you some new skills that will sure come in handy next year when the Pumpkin Festival swings back through.” Billy motioned around the barn. “Man can only do so much in a barn. I’ve got to get you oiled and ready for next year, Zach.”

  “I…wasn’t aware you were willing to keep me on that long,” Zach confessed.

  “Why sure,” Billy said in an easy voice. “I intend to keep you on the farm until you grow old and tired. That is, if you don’t go running off on me. I mean, a man might get the need to move on down the road later on. But just know this here farm will always have a place for you.” Billy looked at Rita, who had just arrived. Rita was smiling at him. “What?” he asked.

  “You’re very sweet.” Rita quickly kissed Billy’s cheek. Billy turned redder than a summer tomato. “Well, I guess we better get on the road. Ready, sis?”

  Rhonda looked at Rita, who was wearing a black leather jacket that didn’t seem very warm. She decided to stall and let her sister…chill out. “Oh, not yet,” she said, listening to the icy winds rip through the barn. Rita tucked at the leather jacket and eased closer to Billy. “Zach and I aren’t through talking yet.”

  Rita knew what her sister was up to. Rhonda had warned her to wear a warm coat, but Rita had chosen the leather jacket because she wanted to look fashionable for Billy. But Billy—being his normal sensible self—had asked her why she was wearing a rain jacket instead of a warm coat. “Can you make your goodbye sooner than later?” she asked, feeling the winds grab at her free-flowing hair. Rhonda, the smarty pants, had a warm pink ski cap covering her hair.

  “Oh, what’s the rush?” Rhonda took a sip of her hot coffee. “Coffee is really good,” she said and patted the coffee cup with a pair of gloved hands. Rita wasn’t even wearing gloves. For a woman who thrived on being practical, she was dressed very impractically. The only practical decision Rita had made today was to wear a long, warm, blue wool dress.

  Rita glared at her twin sister. “Rhonda, we really need to get on the road. We have to be at the airport in less than three hours,” she stated through teeth that were beginning to chatter.

  Billy looked at Rita. “Why, you’re turning blue,” he exclaimed and shook his head. “Can’t see why you wore that there rain jacket instead of a warm coat. Sure hope you dress warmer in Vermont.”

  “Thanks…Billy,” Rita said and threw her eyes back at Rhonda. “Say goodbye to Zach.”

  Rhonda grinned. “Okay, okay,” she said and handed Rita her coffee. “Warm your hands and your insides.”

  Billy shook his head again. “Sometimes you two are mighty hard to figure out,” he said and then focused on Zach. “When you’re finished stacking the hay, go up into the hayloft and shovel out the loose hay and feed it to the milk cows, okay? I’ll be shoveling out the manure.”

  “Hey, Billy…let me do that. You shovel the hay,” Zach pleaded.

  “I’ve been shoveling manure all my life. Ain’t nothing to it,” he told Zach. “Man can’t ignore the little jobs he’s used to doing just because he has a friend at his side. No sir.”

  Rita looked into Billy’s sweet eyes. Sure, she was freezing, but Billy’s heart was warming her own heart. “I’ll call you when we arrive in Vermont, okay, Billy?”

  Billy saw Rita staring into his eyes and blushed. Why in the world such a beautiful woman was showing him attention, he sure didn’t know. “I reckon that would be a good idea,” he said and let out a clumsy smile. “I reckon…well…” Billy leaned forward, kissed Rita on her cheek, and hurried off.

  Rhonda looked at Rita and grinned. “He’s a real romantic,” she said and waved at Zach. “I’ll see you when we get back, okay?”

  “You bet.” Zach smiled in a way that told Rhonda he was looking forward to seeing her again. Rhonda blushed and hurried out of the barn with Rita.

  “Zach’s a nice guy,” Rita said, making a straight line for her SUV.

  Rhonda glanced over her shoulder and saw Zach go back to stacking hay. “Yeah, I guess he is,” she admitted.

  Rita hurried around Billy’s old truck and then dashed into the driver’s seat of her SUV. “Get in. I’ll get the heat going.”

  “I wasn’t planning on walking,” Rhonda called out. She hurried to the passenger’s door, climbed inside the SUV, and took her coffee from Rita. “Well,” she said, “off we go to see Ms. Square Wood.”

  Rita snapped on the heat. “Rhonda, Paula is a close friend. And,” Rita added in a serious voice, “she was a good cop.”

  “Paula Capperson moved to Vermont and took a desk job,” Rhonda argued as the front vents began throwing warm air into her face. “She spent a lot less time patrolling there than the streets in Atlanta.”

  “Well…maybe so, but she proved herself during that time.”

  “She ran down a sixty-eight-year-old shoplifter who stole his ex-wife’s purse out of spite,” Rhonda told Rita and rolled her eyes. “The guy had one leg that was shorter than the other.”

  Rita felt her cheeks turn red. “What do you have against Paula?” she demanded. “Paula was always very friendly toward you.”

  “For starters,” Rhonda fired back, “she has absolutely no sense of humor.”

  “Oh, here we go,” Rita complained.

  “I’m serious,” Rhonda fussed. “Paula Capperson would think a clown…farting in his sleep…had a serious medical condition.”

  “Do you have to be so…crude?” Rita asked. “Can we keep our words ladylike?”

  Rhonda rolled her eyes. “Rita, your so-called dear friend is about as interesting as a stink bug waddling through a mud puddle.”

  Rita threw her eyes at Rhonda. “Why…I’m tempted to not even bring you along.”

  “Please don’t,” Rhonda begged.

  “I’ve already paid for your plane ticket,” Rita snapped.

  Billy stuck his head out of the barn with Zach, spotted Rita and Rhonda going at each other, and shook his head. “They’ll sit there and chew at one another for an hour. I’ve seen them do it before,” he told Zach. “Best if we just go back to our chores and let them be.”

  “Yeah…I guess we better,” Zach agreed and walked back into the barn with Billy.

  “Oh, you’re impossible sometimes,” Rhonda griped at Rita. “First you blackmail me into going, and now you’re—”

  “I did not blackmail you. I simply…made you an offer you could not refuse,” Rita informed Rhonda, feeling like a silly schoolgirl. “Okay…okay…maybe I did twist your arm…a little.”

  “A lot,” Rhonda corrected her sister.

  “Okay, I admit that I’m forcing you to take this trip with me. That’s only because…” Rita paused.

  “Because what?” Rhonda asked warily. She looked into her sister’s eyes. “Rita, what’s going on?”

  Rita drew in a deep breath. “Paula…is getting married, Rhonda. We’re…attending a wedding…not staying at a lakeside cabin.”

  “What?” Rhonda exclaimed. “Rita…how could you?”

  “I know you hate weddings, I had to trick you because…I didn’t want to go alone,” Rita claimed in a miserable voice. “Please don’t be upset with me.”

  Rhonda looked down at her coffee with upset eyes. “Get us to the airport,” she said through gritted teeth. “The sooner we get this nightmare over with, the better.”

  Rita threw the SUV into reverse and got moving. “We’ll have fun,” she promised. “You’ll see. The wedding will be…fun.”

  Rhonda closed her eyes and began taking deep breaths. “Just remind yourself the woman is your sister…just remind yourself the woman is your sister…just remind yourself the woman is your sister.”

  Billy saw Rita drive away. “Yep,” he said, knowing the truth, and went to shoveling manure.

  Paula Capperson was a very ugly woman. She reminded Rhonda of her old third grade teacher, Mrs. Elkworth. Mrs. Elkworth had the longest, sharpest nose Rhonda had ever seen. The nose matched an ugly, cruel face consumed with tiny eyes filled with sour hatred.

  “Rita, Rhonda, how nice of you to make the trip,” Paula Capperson said in a monotone voice that matched her dull face. She took Rita’s hand and gave it a soft squeeze. “How was your flight?”

  “Oh, fine,” Rita said and tossed a warning look at Rhonda. She saw Rhonda staring at Paula’s hair. The poor woman was wearing what appeared to be some type of perm that didn’t sit well with hair that had been recently dyed black.

  “Uh…yeah, fine,” Rhonda added. “The drive up to this town was…snowy.”

  Paula studied Rita’s and Rhonda’s matching gray and blue coats. The two sisters were identical, which was a bit annoying. The only difference Paula could make between the two sisters was the dresses they were wearing. A warm, lightly colored brown dress was sticking out from under Rita’s coat. Rhonda was wearing a dark green dress. “I suppose you might need to change your coats at a later time,” she pointed out. “Otherwise, no one will know who’s who.”

  Rhonda glanced around the fancy foyer she was standing in. The foyer smelled of snobby talk. “Uh…yeah,” she said and tossed her eyes down at the brown boots she was wearing. Paula had made sure she had stomped every bit of snow off the boots before stepping into the foyer. “Rita and I both saw these coats on sale at the same time. Same thing with our boots.”

  Rita quickly helped her sister. “I’ll go into town and buy another coat,” she assured Paula.

  “I would appreciate that,” Paula told Rita and offered a pale smile. “Now, I have coffee prepared in the kitchen along with some bran muffins. Shall we?”

  “Uh…sure.” Rita smiled.

  Paula nodded, checked the bland pinkish-colored dress she had chosen to wear for the day, and left the foyer.

  “Shoot me,” Rhonda begged.

  “Stop it,” Rita whispered.

  Rhonda grimaced and followed her sister past a wooden stairwell holding glossy steps. “I feel like I’m in a museum,” she murmured.

  Rita shot Rhonda a hard eye as she followed Paula down a fancy hallway lined with paintings and antique furnishings that, well, did look as if they had come from a museum. The hallway ended at a medium-sized kitchen that was way too fancy to cook in.

  “Oh, what a lovely kitchen,” Rita told Paula.

  Rhonda stepped up beside Rita and walked her eyes around the kitchen. She spotted a glossy hardwood floor, glossy wooden cabinets that must have cost a small fortune, and a wooden island stove and a round kitchen table sitting next to a set of double glass doors covered with thick blue drapes. The kitchen was in immaculate order. “Fancy.”

  Rita elbowed Rhonda when Paula’s back was turned. “The coffee smells great.”

  “I order my coffee from Switzerland,” Paula explained in a snooty voice. She strolled over to a silver coffee tray holding fancy little white coffee cups decorated with tiny little red birds wearing tiny little bows. “I drink my coffee black. I do, however, have milk in the refrigerator if you prefer.”

  “No…no, we like our coffee black, too,” Rita said as she quickly soaked in the kitchen. “It’s good to see you again, Paula. We haven’t seen you in—”

  “Years,” Paula told Rita in her bland voice. “Yes, I know.”

  “I was very surprised when you contacted me,” Rita said.

  “You were?” Rhonda whispered.

  Rita elbowed her sister again. “Rhonda and I are very honored to be guests at your wedding.”

  “We are?” Rhonda asked.

  Rita stomped on Rhonda’s foot. “A snowy wedding is…very romantic,” she said and gave Rhonda a “don’t-say-a-word” face.

  “Yes, I suppose,” Paula said as she worked on filling the cups with expensive coffee.

  “You…haven’t really told me much about the man you’re going to marry,” Rita said. She decided to take a seat at the kitchen table. Paula watched Rita sit down and then shook her head. Rita frowned. “What? Did I do something wrong?”

  “That’s my seat,” Paula explained.

  “Oh…sorry.” Rita quickly changed seats, ignoring Rhonda’s “are you serious?” expression. “Better?” Paula nodded yes and went back to the coffee. Rhonda rolled her eyes and joined her sister at the table. “So…who’s the lucky man?” Rita asked.

  “His name is Oscar Frost,” Paula told Rita. Rhonda quickly turned her head and bit on her lip. Rita kicked her foot. “Oscar is an author.”

  “Oh,” Rita said, desperately trying to show interest, “has he written anything I might have read?”

  Paula grew silent for a second. “I don’t think so,” she finally spoke. “Oscar is…still working on his first novel.”

  “Oh…I see,” Rita said and looked at Rhonda, who was trying not to pop a gut. “Stop,” she whispered.

  “Oscar Frost…” Rhonda giggled under her breath. “Oh boy…”

  Paula turned away from the kitchen counter and carried the coffee over to the kitchen table and set it down. “Oscar is a very wealthy man,” she continued and carefully handed Rita and Rhonda each a cup of coffee. “He comes from a very respected bloodline.”

  Rita nodded. “That’s nice.”

  “Indeed,” Paula agreed. “Oscar’s parents were both bankers in New York. Very distinguished.”

  Rhonda took her coffee and decided to change the subject. “Paula, forgive me for asking, but you never seemed like the type of woman who…wanted to pursue a career in law enforcement. Why did you decide to become a cop?”

  Rita moaned. “Paula, I’m so sorry—”

  “No, no, Rhonda’s question is a very practical one,” Paula said as she took her seat. “Rhonda, to answer your question, I must first explain that I had no interest in becoming a cop. You are both aware that I was raised by my grandparents, right?”

  “Nope,” Rhonda said, and Rita kicked her foot again; it was starting to throb a bit. “Uh…oh, that’s right, I remember.”

  Paula continued. “My grandfather was a retired cop and insisted that I follow in his footsteps. He went through great pains to get me into the police academy. But, oh, how I detested it all.” Paula took a sip of her coffee. “Sadly, my grandfather died shortly after I graduated from the academy.”

  “I’m sorry,” Rita said.

  “So was I, but not for the reasons you might expect,” Paula explained. “I loved my grandfather but resented him for forcing me to live his dream. After he died, the resentment I felt toward him transferred into guilt. It was that guilt that kept me on the force. Then one day I decided it was time to stop feeling guilty. I made up a simple lie about accepting a new position in Vermont and moved away. I went to college and became a teacher.”

  “Mrs. Elkworth,” Rhonda whispered. Rita kicked her foot again, shooting her sister a glare. Rhonda grinned.

  “I still teach to this day at a private academy,” Paula continued. “I get paid very good money.”

  “But why lie?” Rita asked. “Paula, you’re a grown woman who is fully capable of making decisions for herself.”

  “I lied, Rita,” Paula said, “because I did not want to hurt my grandmother. It was easier to disguise my true intentions rather than allow her to see my grandfather’s dream go up, as they say, in smoke. Fortunately, my grandmother passed many years ago without discovering the truth.”

  Rita took a sip of her coffee. It tasted like mud. “Well…I understand,” she told Paula and faked a yawn. “Paula, do forgive me, but it has been a long trip. I believe Rhonda and I will go back to our hotel room and rest for a while.”

  “You will return for dinner at seven sharp, correct?” Paula asked.

  “Of course,” Rita promised. She stood up and thanked Paula for the coffee. “Rhonda and I can’t wait to meet Oscar Frost.”

  “We sure can’t.” Rhonda grinned. Rita shot her a sharp eye.

  Paula stood up. “I’ll be serving a very simple dinner,” she explained.

  “Pizza?” Rhonda asked in a hopeful voice.

  To Rita’s shock, Paula nodded yes. “Really?” Rita asked.

  Paula made a dreadful face. “My soon-to-be husband has an awful taste for pizza, I’m afraid. He insisted that I serve pizza tonight along with root beer. Please do not be offended.”

  “Offended?” Rhonda asked. “Paula, pizza and root beer rocks my socks.”

  Rita moaned. “What my sister means to say is that pizza and root beer will be fine,” she promised, gently patting Paula’s hand. “We can see ourselves to the door.”

  “Of course,” Paula said. She watched Rita and Rhonda begin to leave the kitchen and then, against her will, called out: “Wait. Rita?”

  “Yes?” Rita asked. She turned around and saw a pained expression cover Paula’s face. “Paula, what’s wrong?”