City Girl by Arlene James

Author:Arlene James
Language: eng
Format: epub

Heritage Springs was a clean little town very much like the other little towns they had passed through on the trip down. Main Street consisted of two rows of red-brick buildings about two blocks long. Parking spaces were provided between the two lanes of traffic, each one flowing in a different direction.

Garrett parked the car, got out, and pocketed the keys, settling his hat just so on his blond head. She let herself out and came around to meet him. He allowed her a moment to look around the town. One side of the street provided a pharmacy with a doctor's office above it, a grocery market, a hardware store, an insurance agency, and the post office. The other had a little more to offer.

There were two clothing stores, a furniture store, a shoe shop, a small cafe, a five-and-dime, and even a theater featuring its first run of a movie she had seen two years ago in Dallas. At the west end of the street was the city hall, where a beige police car was parked. At the other was a gasoline station and a red-brick church.

"All the conveniences of the big city," he observed, waving a hand to take it all in, "just on a smaller scale."

"I like it," she decided out loud. "Looks friendly, like somebody's hometown."

"It is," he laughed, "a lot of people's."

Crystal pivoted and pointed back across the street where one of the old buildings was undergoing some restoration. "What is going to be there?" she asked.

"The bank. It's located over on Second Street right now, in what used to be an old gas station." Noticing her amazed expression, he laughingly explained. "It was the only place in town that had any sort of vault. You know, one of those old round things in the floor with a top that looks like a manhole cover. It is right under the bank president's desk."

They both laughed. Crystal shook her head in mock disbelief. "Dallas people wouldn't believe me if I went back there and told that." Her smile faded somewhat as his expression changed to one of seriousness.

His hand came up, and his thumb stroked her cheek lightly. The blue eyes scanned her face. "There may be hope for you yet, city girl."

Abruptly he looked away, squinting at the line of shops across the street. Strange things were happening to her. She felt both wary and happy, scared and eager.

Wordlessly she followed him across the street and along the sidewalk to a shop with a life-size plaster horse in front of it and windows filled with lariats and old saddles. She supposed the window displays were meant to create atmosphere, since the sign above the awning read "Porter's Western Wear."

The shop's proprietor, Amos Porter, was a big, soft, jolly man with a wispy mustache and a colorless head of closely shorn hair. Evidently Mr. Porter did not find it necessary to wear his own goods as advertisement. He wore instead a pair of suede slippers, a pullover with red stripes across the chest, and a pair of nondescript gray slacks.

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