The Preacher’s Daughter by Jessica Mills

Author:Jessica Mills [Mills, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Star Key Press
Published: 2023-02-23T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 21

CASH

The truck bounced down the driveway with Bowie behind the wheel. The sun was shining bright. I was in a good mood. A damn good mood. I was looking forward to seeing Rebekah. I knew I needed to tread lightly. I would apply just enough pressure to convince her to see me again. If she really dug in and convinced me she didn’t want to see me again, I would walk away. But there was something there. I could feel it in my gut. She was special. She was mine.

“Hello,” Bowie said and slapped me across the chest.

“Do that again and you’ll pull back a stump,” I warned.

“Answer your damn phone,” he said.

It was sitting in the center console, vibrating. I looked at the screen and grinned. “Well, well, well,” I said with just a little too much satisfaction.

“What?”

“It’s her,” I said. “Shh.” I cleared my throat. “Hi,” I answered.

“Hey.” Rebekah’s sweet voice came through.

“Miss me?” I teased.

“Very funny. I just got a call from a customer. I know it’s short notice, but a couple would like to hire you for their wedding ceremony this weekend. Do you have any plans?”

“I do now,” I said.

“I’ll text you the information.”

“I’ll call you later,” I said.

She ended the call. I couldn’t stop smiling as I put the phone back in the console.

“You’re playing with fire,” Bowie warned.

“And I cannot wait to get burned,” I said.

He rolled his eyes and focused on the road. Earl’s shop was next to his old house. A Billy goat barely looked up from the fresh grass he was chewing in the front yard. We all had had more than one encounter with Billy. The goat was mean but only if you looked at him funny. For the most part, he minded his own business. Didn’t mean I liked the damn thing.

“Stop staring at him,” Bowie said. “If that asshole charges, I’m throwing you in front of me.”

“Why doesn’t he fence the thing up?” I asked.

“It’s his guard goat,” Bowie replied. “Better than any rottweiler.”

We both hopped out of the truck. I hoisted the heater out of the back and carried it to the side door. “Earl!” Bowie called out. “It’s Bowie and Cash.”

Earl opened the door. The big, burly man wore stained overalls with a baseball cap that was stained as well. “Come in, boys,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

“We need a new cord for the heater again,” I told him.

Earl looked down at it. “Damn rodents.”

“We’ve got chicks coming soon,” I said. “We need it kind of fast.”

“It’s an easy fix,” Earl said. “Shouldn’t take long.”

Bowie and I exchanged a look. Earl moved in a totally different universe. I was convinced it was some kind of time warp. A day for Earl was two weeks for the rest of us. His idea of hurrying meant he took just a shade longer than the usual amount of time a normal person would take. To call him a turtle was inaccurate. A turtle moved at lightning speed compared to Earl.

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