Chapter 11 #2
Amanda accepted the box with gratitude. “Thank you so much. And while I’m here, can I get a couple of your strawberry pies? If you have them in stock?”
“I actually have three in the walk-in. I was planning to bake blueberry tomorrow.”
“Then I’ll take all three,” Amanda said cheerfully. “Jewel and Zane are coming out with the twins before school starts.”
Allison tilted her head. “Wait. School already started, didn’t it?”
Amanda smiled. “Oh, the twins are homeschooled. They do their coursework in Denver during the year, part of a co-op there. They’re both ahead of their grade levels. One excels in math, the other in science. And they spend summers back home.”
“Where’s home?” Allison asked.
Amanda waved her hand vaguely. “Back in the Carolinas.”
Allison caught the subtle signal that said, Don’t push . So, she didn’t. “I’ll pop back and grab those pies for you. Be right back,” Allison said with a smile as she turned toward the walk-in cooler.
She stepped inside and pulled out two strawberry pies, placing them gently on the prep table before returning for the last one. As she secured the lids and made sure each box was wrapped with care, the bell above the door chimed.
Frank Marshall stepped into the bakery, the light behind him casting long shadows across the polished floor.
Allison grinned. “I see you’ve got your weekly stash of taffy,” she teased, nodding toward the small brown paper bag in his hand.
Amanda laughed, brushing her fingers across her husband’s sleeve. “Please don’t let your mom ever run out of that. I found a source for some high-protein taffy, but this man refuses to eat it.”
Frank lifted the bag as if defending a long-held tradition. “Ain’t nothing wrong with this taffy. Been eating it all my life. Probably gonna eat it till the day I die.”
Amanda’s hand slid around his back. “Well, that won’t be for a long, long time. Do you understand me?”
Frank looked down at her, smiling softly. “Yes, dear.” He bent and kissed her forehead, the kind of small, familiar gesture that spoke of years of devotion.
Allison moved the pie boxes toward the counter and lined them up neatly. “I’ll just put it on your bill,” she said as she rang them up .
“Thank you so much,” Amanda said warmly. “You’re gonna have to help me with these,” she added, glancing at her husband.
“I will,” Frank replied, shifting the weight of the boxes as he accepted them from Amanda. “But I’ve got a question first.”
Allison looked up, her hand pausing over the register. “What can I help you with?”
Frank tilted his head toward the front window, and when she looked in that direction, she saw Delbert sitting outside the general store, watching Main Street with the same focus he gave every slow-moving vehicle that dared to roll through town.
“Where’s Chester?” Frank said. “Is he still coming down here every day?”
Allison glanced at the clock and then out the front window and nodded. “Oh, he should be here any minute.”
And just like that, Seth’s truck pulled down Main Street, easing in from the highway. She caught sight of the dusty hood and the big black German Shepherd sitting alert in the passenger seat.
“There he is.” She smiled.
The truck rolled to a stop in front of the general store.
Gomer jumped out the passenger side, landing gracefully before circling the truck to wait at the rear door.
The dog stood in a protective hover as Chester shuffled out, slow but steady.
Gomer scooted back just far enough to give him space, then moved in line beside him.
Seth waited until his father was upright and headed for the bench before he shut the door and followed behind. Once Chester had settled with Gomer curled at his feet, Seth turned toward the bakery.
“Sharp dog,” Frank said as Amanda unwrapped a piece of taffy and popped it into his mouth. “Thank you,” he said as she laughed and walked across the bakery to the trash can.
Allison smiled. “He should be. He’s a retired military working dog. Tracking and drug detection were his specialties. Seth said he was a kennel master. Whatever that means. Apparently, the more rank he earned, the further they pushed him from the dogs.”
Frank’s eyebrows lifted, and he nodded. “Heard that from Ken.”
She smiled as she watched Seth ambling down the street. “From what I gather, he didn’t like being behind a desk. When they retired Gomer because of arthritis, Seth put in for adoption and flew out to bring him home himself.”
“Is Seth sticking around?” Frank asked, chewing his taffy slowly while Amanda balanced the smaller boxes atop the larger one he now held in his arms.
“Yeah. His dad … isn’t doing too well. Seth’s his full-time caregiver now.”
Frank grunted. “Alzheimer’s?”
Allison’s smile was tinged with sadness.
“Yeah. That’s what the doctors confirmed.
Seth thinks part of the meanness that hit before he came home was from a UTI.
The doctor speculated the same. Chester’s been on antibiotics, and he’s settled quite a bit since then. He’s calmer. Seems more like himself.”
Frank nodded thoughtfully as Amanda stepped to the door and opened it wide. She asked, “Ready to go, dear?”
Frank glanced down at the boxes piled in his arms. “I don’t think I’ve got room for anything else.”
Amanda laughed and held the door for him. “Bye, Allison. See you next week.”
“Take care,” Allison called, waving.
She looked past them just in time to see Seth nearing the bakery.
But he stopped as Frank said something, and the two men stood for a moment talking.
Frank gestured once toward the general store, then toward Seth’s truck.
Amanda, meanwhile, unloaded the boxes from Frank’s arms into the back of their vehicle .
Seth nodded, shook Frank’s hand, then resumed his walk to the bakery.
Allison took a moment to catch her breath and wipe her hands on her apron.
Seeing Seth walking toward her under the South Dakota sun, the horizon wide and the sky endless behind him, made her heart skip.