that Masterson a good fifty years ago. Those were the days.” She wiggled the wand on her wheelchair and headed toward the alcove near the window of the Terrington Acres retirement home rec center. “Well, come on, you beautiful young people. I’m sure you’ll prove mighty entertaining.”
Miranda laughed outright. “We’ll do our best.”
Knight pulled Miranda’s chair closer to the window as Miranda answered questions about who her people in Masterson were again. Colleen Tanner was sharp as a tack; her body just wasn’t keeping up with the rest of her. “My grandmother runs the Talley Inn and Flo’s Diner.”
“Gerald your daddy, or Arthur, or you Jessi’s girl? You have the look of her, around the eyes. Sorry about her passing.”
It was a question she’d answered many times; her father and his brother were identical twins. “Gerald. I’m his eldest daughter.”
“He always was a handsome one, but always had that stick up his…rear. It was a nice rear end, but he sure did follow the straight and narrow. Unlike that brother of his. No shame when that one took off—those kids of his were far better off, I’ve always said.”
“He is still very regimented. My sister and I absolutely adore him.” Her father was on the autism spectrum and had always preferred life very structured. Much like her youngest sister, Meyra.
“And that city girl he married?”
“She passed away when I was a girl.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. He sure did worship the ground she walked on.”
“That he did.” One thing she would always remember was how much her father had loved her mother. How he—the man she had never seen cry—had wept after the stroke had taken her. “He adored her.”
“And you girls.”
“Yes.”
“Did he ever remarry?”
“No, ma’am. He never has.” And never would, Miranda suspected. He’d loved her mother a great deal.
“A pity. A man shouldn’t spend his days alone. Neither should a woman, for that matter.” She shot an eagle-eyed look toward Knight. “You married, gorgeous?”
“Uh, no. I’m not.”
“Good thing. That means you’re available.” The older woman grinned mischievously at Miranda. “I’ll fight you for him, honey girl.”
“No, no, that’s perfectly ok. Knight here has a cranky attitude. He’s better off with a woman who can control him.”
Now, now his cheeks turned red.
Miranda considered it. For one fourth of a second. Being with Allan Knight. When he scowled right at her, she stopped. Nope. That was never going to happen. No matter how pretty he was.
“Now, you’re a Talley of Masterson County, little girl. I don’t doubt you’re up to the challenge. I know exactly what your kind is like. That little nurse cousin Dixie of yours gives me fits on a weekly basis.”
Dixie worked at the hospital and nursing home when not working at the diner. She’d been the one to let them in the building a few moments ago. “Maybe. Ms. Tanner—”
“Colleen. I’m too old to be anything but who I am. Who’s this person you have questions of?”
“Pauline Caudrell Beise,” Knight said quietly. He had shifted to stand behind Miranda’s chair. Miranda looked up at him.
Yep. No doubt he was using her as a physical buffer between himself and the older woman.
The question was why. Why did he find Colleen Tanner so frightening? She was a harmless woman who had lived a full, interesting life in Masterson County. Not like she was after Knight’s virtue or anything.
Well, maybe she was, but Knight could probably outrun her if he really tried.
Before she left for St. Louis, Miranda would make a point to interview Colleen for the book she was writing about life in small towns. Miranda had personal recollections from more than fifteen people now. It would be her second collection—she’d studied small towns for her thesis, too.
She was more than charmed by Colleen. Knight was most definitely not.
“What do you want to know about that old prune-faced bag of bones?”
Well. That was not something Miranda had expected to hear at the moment. “You didn’t get along?”
“No one got along with that controlling nincompoop. Always thinking she was the boss—even when she wasn’t.” Coleen snorted, rubbed a boney knee, shot an admiring look at the breadth of Knight’s shoulders, and then turned back to Miranda. “You got to understand something. The factory was the only place you worked, if you were anybody around here. Unless you were a Masterson or a Talley, or one of that crowd. Ones with the education to go places, they were.”
Miranda wasn’t ashamed of her family heritage. The Talleys had been some of