She sucked at her teeth for a moment, then nodded. “Yes. Ain’t seen much of him since high school, but he was stationed here at the Army post for a couple of years recently.”

“He’s in my unit now. He’s my new medic.”

“He’s a good boy. You should ask him about his wife and him one time. Talk about a story. Not mine to tell, mind you.” She looked at Cynthia again. “I’m Betsy, since this one here is too rude to do the introducing.”

Cynthia smiled and held out her hand. “Cynthia. Rick told me all about this place. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Well, at least he’s telling somebody something.”

Rick narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you about done being nosy?”

She gave him a bright red smile. “For now. What can I get you?”

Cynthia ignored the exchange as she said, “I will take a tuna sandwich and an unsweet tea.”

Betsy nodded and looked at him. “Well?”

He smiled sweetly at her. “Patty melt.”

When she walked away, Rick cleared his throat. “Betsy is my great-aunt. My grandmother’s sister. She is a bit abrupt with family.”

Cynthia looked in the direction of the kitchen. “She is certainly a character. I’m glad I knew a little bit about her before we got here.”

He shook his head. “When did we talk about Betsy?”

“It was one of those conversations where we talked about a thousand things.” She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “So, Captain Norton, how do you spend your leave days?”

Once again, his mind roamed to kissing her in the plumbing aisle of Norton’s Hardware. He was figuring out what he’d like to do with his leave.

He cleared his throat. “I visit friends and family. Hang with Bill.”

“Bill? Sanders?”

“Yeah, he’ll be here tomorrow night.”

She tilted her head slightly to the right. “I don’t mean this to be rude, but why does he come here on leave? Doesn’t he live in Alabama?”

Rick thought about Bill’s family dynamics and shook his head. “He lives where the Army sends him. We’ve been friends since we were both young soldiers, so he always comes home with me on leave. This time, he went with Swanson to his parents’ home before coming here.”

Betsy brought their drinks to the table but didn’t speak. He winked at her anyway, and she snapped at his shoulder with her towel.

Cynthia peeled the paper off her straw and jammed it into her tea. “Bill doesn’t approve of us, does he?”

Her insight surprised him. “Where do you get that?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “It was just some undercurrent when you two were in DC. I guess I didn’t make a great impression on him, huh?”