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Paxton looked to Sister.
The woman smiled at him. “We both agree.”
“Good.” He pivoted to face Sandra. He sure hoped that talk of smugglers, kidnapping, rapists, and hostages didn’t change her mind about moving back to Tuckers Bluff. Through no fault of his own, he’d lost touch with her once, he didn’t know much about her coming home yet, but he did know one thing for sure; he did not want to lose touch again.
Chapter Sixteen
The low hum of dinner conversation from the Silver Spur Café hit Paxton as the old-fashioned bell chimed above them. At least without the music, the café would be more conducive to conversation than O’Faredeigh’s. Talking—and hearing—would be much easier here, and that’s what he really wanted, to hear firsthand everything about how Sandra’s afternoon had gone.
Abbie, the owner of the diner and his cousin Jamison’s wife, waved them to a booth at the opposite side of the cafe. Thankful for any opportunity to be close, he placed his hand at the small of Sandra’s back and guided her past the tables and booths. Of course, half the dinner guests recognized them, delaying their efforts with the polite chitchat.
Sliding into opposite sides of the booth, Paxton set his hat down beside him, while Sandra reached for the menu. The thing about Abbie’s café is that most of the folks in town knew every item and didn’t bother with menus. That Sandra reached for one reminded him of just how long she’d been gone.
“You aren’t going to look, are you?” She glanced at him from over the top of the menu.
“Took me a few weeks to memorize it like the rest of the locals, but once I did, it actually made everything feel more like home.”
Bobbing her head, Sandra looked back at her menu and then glanced up at him again. “I’m noticing not much has changed. Hopefully, I won’t need weeks to fall back into local mode.”
He liked the sound of that. There were a lot of things he was liking right about now. Sandra being at the top of his list.
Abbie stopped at the booth, her pad in her hand. “How do you like being home?”
“I love it.” Sandra’s gaze shifted a moment to Paxton and he’d have sworn he saw her blush. Was he reading something into her response? Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.
“Glad to hear.” Abbie gave that same comforting smile that made all her customers love dining at the café. “Your mom was in here earlier with your son.”
“Really?”
“After school ice cream sundae.”
Sandra smiled, rolling her eyes. “Gotta love grandmas.”
“What a delight your son is. He’s a great kid.”
Sandra beamed. “Thank you.”
“I’m not an expert on kids,” Paxton chimed in, “but I think he’s pretty great too.”
“You do?” Sandra’s brows buckled.
He merely nodded but had to wonder why she looked so surprised.
“Yeah,” Abbie grinned, “he told me some jokes and I laughed at all of them.”
“I didn’t know my son was such a comedian,” Sandra said.
“Indeed.” Abbie tapped her pad. “So, what can I get you folks?”
Paxton motioned for Sandra to go first.
“Does Frank still make the best cheeseburger this side of the Mississippi?”
“He sure does.” Abbie nodded.
“Great. Cheeseburger with Swiss cheese, tomatoes, on whole wheat with sweet potato fries.”
Abbie looked to Paxton. “I’ll have the same,” he said.
