The Sheriff by Jan Hudson

Author:Jan Hudson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

J.J. arrived on Sunday afternoon in a shiny blue SUV. “Is this new?” Mary Beth asked as she touched the hood. She’d give her eyeteeth to have one like it.

“Nope. It’s a few years old, but it’s a cream puff, so Ephraim Hobbs said.”

“Who’s Ephraim Hobbs?”

“He owns a used-car lot on Third Street. Where’s Katy?”

“She went home with Janey and Jimmy after church. I thought you loved your pickup truck.”

“I do. This isn’t for me. It’s for you, if you like it.”

“What’s not to like? But J.J., I can’t afford something like this.”

“Sure you can. Ephraim picked it up cheap in an estate sale, and he said you could pay it out, nothing down and a hundred dollars a month for three years. It’s a honey of a deal and I know that it’s in great shape. Somebody’s bound to snap it up in a hurry if you don’t take it. Why don’t you drive it to Travis Lake and see how it handles?”

It handled like a dream. The leather seats were like new, and there wasn’t a scratch on it. She couldn’t believe the price. It cost less than the little used car she’d bought when she’d had to sell her Lexus in Natchez. Still, as she mentally calculated the cost, she wondered if she could afford it. A lot of her profits would go into renovating the apartment unit of the motel. Plus, she had to consider the cost of shipping what was left of her furniture and things from Mississippi.

What if business at the tearoom fell off? She had employee wages to consider now, along with utilities and bills from the suppliers. Taking on another financial burden, even a small one by most people’s standards, was scary.

“How does it drive?” J.J. asked.

“Beautifully. It’s a fantastic vehicle, and it would be perfect for us, but I was thinking more along the lines of buying an old clunker for five or six hundred dollars.”

“Mary Beth, you’d end up spending more on an old clunker than you would on this. First thing you know, you’d need a new battery and a new set of tires, then the transmission would go out or the fuel pump or the alternator. It would stay in Tick’s Garage half the time—unless you know how to repair an old car.”

“I don’t even know where the transmission is. What’s an alternator?”

“Exactly. And any old clunker you’d buy wouldn’t have an air conditioner. Imagine August in Texas without an air conditioner.”

“It would be miserable.”

“Worse than miserable. Think about it, for twenty-five dollars a week, you could have a nice, dependable, air-conditioned vehicle with an almost new set of tires and an engine that looks like it just rolled off the assembly line.”

“Maybe I could get a bicycle. I could probably pick up one at a garage sale for twenty bucks.”

He didn’t even smile; he merely scowled at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Mary Beth, get serious. You’re not going to find a better buy than this.

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