couple of minutes later, Archer was in his truck, driving home. Agitated, and actually having precisely zero laundry to do, he put the windows down, cranked up the radio, and kept on driving.
This was ridiculous. His fight with Gunnar was even more ridiculous. They’d never argued over a woman, then again, his brother had never been interested in the women Archer dated.
Hell, Gunnar had shown an interest in Molly until now either.
His phone went off suddenly and he answered it. “Sheriff, sorry to bother you on a Sunday afternoon with the fam, but you’re needed.”
“On my way.” He activated his hazard lights and quickly executed a three-point road turn.
“ETA is approximately fifteen minutes to the station.”
“Not at the station.” Dispatch snickered. “The Yarn Shop.”
“Not again,” he muttered, then raised his voice. “ETA is approximately twelve minutes. What’s the situation?”
“The usual.”
“Super.” Cora’s aunts were troublemakers with a capital T. They were also busybodies with a capital B, which meant they had stuck their noses where they didn’t belong. And now they were reaping the consequences.
When he arrived on scene, he glanced at his vest on the passenger seat and decided against it. There had only been one recorded shooting at The Yarn Shop, and that had been in 1889 over an apple pie recipe. The recipe was supposed to guarantee a proposal, so naturally, every woman in the county wanted it.
Or so the story went.
Archer put on his hazards and got out the truck, making his way with purposeful strides to the small group standing outside the shop.
“Y’all said Darla would be getting a proposal this month,” one woman shouted at the aunts.
“Oh my Lord, momma. I didn’t ask you to come here in the first place.” Darla’s cheeks were scarlet.
“Ladies,” Archer said with a nod. “What can I do to help?”
“You can arrest these two for false advertisement,” Darla’s mother screeched.
“That’s not a reason to arrest someone.”
Darla’s momma huffed. “Well, it should be.”
“It’s not. Either you leave on your own accord, or the Woodhouses can ask me to escort you off their premises and press charges for trespassing on their property.”
“This is a public sidewalk.”
Archer shook his head. “ ’Fraid not. The Woodhouses own the sidewalk in front of their store. It’s in the town charter.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s private property.” And if this lady had a problem with it, she could take it up with the Mayor, but there was no way in hell he’d suggest that. She could come to her own conclusion, especially over something so petty.
“Momma, let’s go before something happens that you’ll regret.”
“I already regret ever coming here.” She turned up her nose so high that if it started to rain, she’d have drowned. “I will never frequent this establishment again.”
“Oh no. How will we ever recover?” Franny said as the duo hurried away to their car. The small crowd dispersed, some going inside the shop. She turned her friendly brown eyes on Archer. “Thanks for coming so quickly, Sheriff.”
“That’s my job. Anytime you ladies have a problem like that, call us and we’ll do our best to help.”
Franny grinned. “We didn’t call. Darla’s precious mother did.”
Son of a… “Guess that didn’t go the way she thought it would.”
“Speaking of things not going a certain way…”
Archer started to back up. “Yeah, not ready to talk about that.”
“I only wanted to invite you inside to--”
“Not a good knitter.” He wriggled his fingers. “Clumsy hands. Anyway, if you want to file—”
“No need. This isn’t the first time the Woodhouses have been maligned. I consider it family tradition at this point.” Franny smiled and moved to the entrance of the shop. “Don’t be a stranger, sheriff. You’re welcome inside anytime.”
He almost tipped his hat to her, only to remember that he didn’t have one on. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.
Chapter 5
“Are the Woodhouses going to press charges against Darla’s momma?” Molly asked.
They were sitting in one of the booths at The Happy Harpy, eating breakfast together like they did every Monday. Molly’s business was closed on Mondays and Archer’s schedule typically accommodated their standing date.
“No, and since it was a bystander that called the station because it had spilled outside, I have no reason to press charges either.” Archer shook his head. “Imagine if I were able to go after real criminals and I don’t know help people with actual problems, not disgruntled mommas.”
Molly snorted. “What would the world come to? Anyway, the entire thing is a mess. Everyone was talking about it on the town’s Facebook page. Even