Cady knew paying for the dress was a matter of honor with Boomer. “Eighteen bucks,” she said smartly.

“Sounds reasonable,” Boomer said, handing her a sheaf of bills. “I thought you were going to say something like eight hundred bucks. So, is it a date?”

“Sure. Hey, wait, I have to give you the money for the apple turnovers and coffee.”

“They’re on me. See you tomorrow.”

Cady smiled all the way to her parked car. She was grinning from ear to ear as she drove the block and a half to the town square, where she parked the car and headed for the drugstore and hardware store. This time, though, she walked Atlas on his tartan leash, humming under her breath. Boomer was so good looking.

“Whew! Is it my imagination, or was this store the busiest you’ve ever seen it?” Julie Ambrose asked as she sat down on a spindly chair across from Amy Chambers. “We’re out of everything. That Cady Jordan is gorgeous. In a million years I could never look like that. I loved that dress. She has a tan, too. The new police chief looked to me like he was staking out a claim on her. Did you see him pay her bill?”

“I saw,” Amy snapped. “Did you see the morning paper? What are people saying?” Amy swigged from her coffee cup and bit into a cinnamon bun.

“Of course I saw it. We sell the paper, remember. Actually, we sold out. I was so busy, I only heard bits and pieces. One group is pissed because Cyrus King squelched the sale of the property. Hattie Brisbane said she wanted an outfit like Cady Jordan’s. Melba Logan said she was a show-off. Meaning Cady. Said she was probably going to do a commercial for underwear or something like that for Victoria’s Secret. The men were smirking, envying Boomer Ward. I would kill for that girl’s shape,” Julie prattled on.

“She wouldn’t look like that if she’d had kids, like you and I,” Amy snapped.

“Yes, she would, Amy. You can tell just by looking at her that she thinks appearance is important. You and I…we’re on the go, we don’t have money for fancy designer clothes and the like. We don’t have time for the gym. At least I don’t. I have to work to make ends meet. Of course, if I didn’t eat half the stuff that comes out of the oven, I might get my weight down. You sound like you don’t like Cady. Did something happen?”

Amy licked her fingers. “I thought that picture was disgusting. I’m going to write a letter to the editor about it, too. Nothing happened. Why do you even ask?” She eyed the last cinnamon bun on the paper plate in front of her. “Cady stopped by the other day. The house was a mess, I was a mess, and she looked like she just stepped out of a bandbox. I felt like crawling into a hole and pulling a cover over it.”