Liz tried to keep a blank expression like she’d been taught. “News must travel fast in this area.”

Colleen shrugged. “He called to tell me to pick up a few things since I’m already here.”

“Well, rats! If I’d known you were shopping for the neighborhood, I’d have called you with my list,” Liz teased.

Colleen shook her head. “It’s only because he’s my brother that he can weasel me into getting him dish soap and a bag of potatoes. Anything more and he’d be in here himself.”

“Well, I’ve got to get back to the pet aisle. See you around,” Liz said, wondering the whole time why Raylen would need those two items if he still lived with his parents. Didn’t Maddie buy the groceries and cleansers?

“Did you take that job at Jasmine’s place?” Colleen asked.

Liz nodded.

“Have you ever done waitress work before?” Colleen asked.

“I guess you could call it that,” Liz answered.

“Where?” Colleen asked.

“All over the state of Texas, some in Oklahoma, and over in Arkansas. We traveled a lot.” Liz pushed her cart past Colleen’s and hurried to the back of the store.

Her phone rang when she was safely hidden in the aisle with the pet food. She dug it out of her purse, saw that it was her mother, and pushed the button to answer it.

“Hello, Mama,” she said with a long sigh.

“We’re on the move. Next stop is Bells, Texas. You always liked that little town. Why don’t you meet us there and give up this notion of living like the rest of the world?”

“After only two days? No, thank you. Besides, I’ve got a job. I’m going to work at the Chicken Fried café in the morning.” Liz picked up a dozen cans of fancy cat food and put them in her cart.

“Doing what?” Marva Jo asked.

“Waitress for minimum wage,” Liz told her.

Marva Jo laughed so loud that Liz held the phone out from her ear.

“What’s so funny?” Liz asked when her mother calmed down.

Marva hiccupped. “Now I know you’ll come home to the carnival where you belong. You doing waitress work… Girl, you haven’t worked for that kind of money since you were fourteen. I couldn’t have asked for a better job to teach you a lesson.”

“I don’t need the money, so it doesn’t matter,” Liz argued.

“Okay, let’s talk about the cowboy next door,” Marva Jo said. “Did you tell him that you don’t have to work, that you have an inheritance big enough to buy his piece of Texas dirt?”

“I had lunch with him. And yesterday I went to his parents’ house for Sunday dinner and music afterwards. And no, I didn’t tell him anything about money. Why would I? I don’t think it would be right to say, ‘Hey, Raylen, I’m rich.’ But he did almost beat me in a fiddlin’ contest,” Liz said.

“Dammit!” Marva Jo exclaimed.

“Is that not as funny as the minimum wage?” Liz asked.