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“I will,” he promised solemnly, then trotted forward and automatically took his grandfather’s outstretched hand.
At this early hour of the afternoon the lunch crowd had already left and the coffee drinkers had yet to arrive, leaving the restaurant virtually empty of patrons. Chase and Quint had their pick of tables; Chase chose one near the counter and sat down, hooking his cane onto the back of a white-painted chair.
Quint crawled onto another one and peered around the empty restaurant. “Where’s Miss Sally?”
“Back in the kitchen, I imagine,” Chase guessed from the clank and clatter of silverware and dishes coming from the direction of the batwing doors. “She’ll be out directly.”
Quint nodded in sober understanding and sat back to wait. It was a short one, as the proprietress, Sally Brogan, pushed through the swinging doors into the restaurant proper. Age had thickened her waistline and turned her once copper-red hair a snowy white, a color that intensified the serene blue of her eyes.
Sally stopped in surprise when she saw the pair at the table. A look of pleasure leaped into her eyes, a look that became hungry as she ran her gaze over Chase. She had been in love with him more years than she cared to count. Once she had believed she had a chance with him. Since Maggie’s death, however, she had seen even less of him than before. She had finally come to accept that he would never offer her more than his friendship.
“I didn’t realize I had customers.” Approaching the table, Sally smiled a warm welcome. “Have you been here long?”
“Just sat down,” Chase told her.
“This can’t be Quint.” She turned to the boy. “You are growing as fast as the spring grass.”
“Kids do that, Miss Sally,” he explained.
Her smile deepened in amusement. “I
guess they do at that.”
“Quint has a birthday coming up this Thursday,” Chase informed her.
“A birthday? How exciting. How old will you be?”
“Five.”
“Have you decided what you want for your birthday?” Sally asked.
Quint contemplated that for a long minute, then sighed. “I guess I got just about everything a boy could want.”
Sally laughed in amazement. “I’ll bet your mom was happy to hear that.”
“I guess.” He shrugged the answer, then volunteered, “Mom went shopping. Grandpa and me decided to come visit you. He’s gonna have some coffee, but I want hot chocolate.”
“Would you like a marshmallow with that hot chocolate?”
“Please.” A rare smile curved his mouth. “Can I drink it at the counter if I’m careful not to spill?”
“Of course you can.”
“Thanks.” Still beaming, Quint scrambled off his chair, raced over to the counter and hauled himself onto one of the stools.
Sally had set his hot chocolate, topped with two fat marshmallows, before him, then brought two cups of coffee to the table and sat down with Chase. “He’s quite the boy,” she remarked.
“Sometimes it seems like he’s four going on fifteen. He’s definitely not the harum-scarum type.” Chase studied his grandson with pride.
“I should say not,” Sally agreed.
“So, what’s been happening in Blue Moon?” Chase sipped at his coffee.
“Sheriff Blackmore had triple bypass surgery on Monday. He took sick over the weekend, I guess. They rushed him to the hospital in Miles City.”
“How’s he doing?”
“They say he came through the operation in fine shape, but it’ll be a while before he’s back on the job.”
