“Howdy,” he said with a lazy drawl. “Welcome to Texas.”

Sherry finished chewing her first bite. “Thank you. It’s a wonderful state.”

“What part of the country you from?”

“Oregon,” she replied. “A little town called Orchard Valley.”

“I hear it’s real pretty up there in Or-ee-gon.”

“It’s beautiful,” Sherry agreed, staring down at her plate. If she was lucky, this cowpoke would get the message and leave her to her lunch.

“’Course living in Texas has a lot of advantages.”

“That’s what I understand.”

“Suppose I should introduce myself,” he said, holding out his hand. “Name’s Dan Bowie. I’m Pepper’s duly elected mayor.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Sherry wiped the mustard from her fingertips and extended her hand. He shook it, his eyes gleaming, then without waiting for an invitation, pulled out the chair opposite her and made himself comfortable.

“Donna Jo here was telling me you’re a physician assistant.”

“That’s true.”

“She also said you already have a job.”

“That’s true, too, but—”

“It just so happens that Pepper badly needs a qualified physician assistant. Now we’ve finally hired one, but she’s not due to get here for a coupla weeks yet. So-o-o…”

Sherry abruptly decided to discontinue her charade. “Well, she’s here. It’s me.” She smiled brightly. “I’m early, I know, but—”

“Well, I’ll be! This is great, just great. I wish you’d said something sooner. We’d’ve thrown a welcome party if we’d known, isn’t that right, Donna Jo?”

“Actually I was on my way to Houston to visit a friend, but curiosity got the better of me,” Sherry explained. “I thought I’d drive through town and get a look at Pepper.”

“Well, what do you think?” He pushed back his Stetson and favored her with a wide smile. “You can stay for a while, can’t you?” he asked. “Now, you finish your lunch,” he said as Donna Jo set a towering piece of lemon meringue pie in front of Sherry and replenished her iced tea. “Your meal’s on us,” he announced grandly. “Send the tab to my office, Donna Jo.”

“Thank you,” Sherry began, “but—”

“Soon as you’re done, Miz…”

“Waterman. Sherry Waterman.”

“Soon as you’re done eating, I aim to show you around town. We’ll stop by the clinic, too. I want Doc Lindsey to meet you.”

“Well…I suppose.” Sherry hoped she didn’t sound ungracious. She finished her meal quickly and in silence, acutely conscious of Mayor Bowie’s rapt and unwavering gaze.

The second she put her fork down, he took hold of her elbow and practically lifted her from the chair. He’d obviously regained his voice, because he was talking enthusiastically as he guided her out the café door.

“Pepper’s a sweet little town. Got its name from Jim Pepper. Don’t suppose you ever heard of him up there in Or-ee-gon. He died at the Alamo, and our forefathers didn’t want the world to forget what a fine man he was, so they up and named the town after him. What most folks don’t know is that he was darn near blind. He couldn’t have shot one of Santa Ana’s men if his life depended on it, which unfortunately it did.”