“No fast food.” She took in the shabby but quaint main street. “I didn’t see any chain restaurants out on the highway, either. This place isn’t big, but it’s big enough for a NAPA Auto Parts store or a Blockbuster. Where are they? If you took away the cars and ignored peoples’ clothes, it would be hard to figure out what year it is.”

“Interesting you should mention clothes.” He studied her black bike shorts and camouflage T-shirt. “I guess you didn’t get the dress code memo that came with your new job.”

“That piece of crap? I tossed it out.”

A woman’s face popped up in the window of Barb’s Tresses and Day Spa next to the pharmacy. At the insurance agency on the other side, a balding man peered out from behind a church rummage sale poster. She imagined similar heads popping up across the street. In a town this small, the news of their famous new neighbor’s arrival would spread quickly.

She followed Dean into the pharmacy, keeping a respectful three paces behind, which further annoyed him, even though he’d brought it on himself with his attitude. He disappeared to the back of the store while she talked to the cashier and discovered there were no job openings. Two women rushed in, one black and one white. The man from the insurance agency entered, followed by an older woman with wet hair. Next came a skinny guy with a plastic name tag that identified him as Steve.

“There he is,” insurance man said to the others.

They all craned their necks to stare at Dean. A woman in a bright pink business suit came charging in, her taupe pumps clicking on the tile floor. She looked as though she was around Blue’s age, too young for her hair to be so stiffly sprayed, although Blue had no room to criticize anyone’s hairstyle. She’d have gotten hers cut if she hadn’t left Seattle so abruptly. She edged toward the mascara display just as the woman called out to Dean, uttering his name on a long, adoring breath. “Dean…I just heard that you’d shown up at the farm. I was on my way out to welcome you.”

Blue peered around the mascara in time to watch Dean’s blank expression shift to recognition. “Monica. Nice to see you.” He held nail clippers, an Ace Bandage, and a package of what looked like gel shoe inserts. No condoms.

“Goodness, the town is buzzin’,” Monica said. “Everybody’s been waiting for you to show up. Isn’t Susan O’Hara amazing? Don’t you love what she’s done to the house?”

“Amazing, all right.”

Monica drank him in like a frosty glass of sweet tea. “I hope you’re staying for a while.”

“I’m not sure. Depends on a couple of things.”