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flattered that the man stood as she slid into her seat. She’d known Ryan all her life. He was one of her brother’s oldest friends. One thing about Zeke, he knew a good soul when he met one and worked hard to keep them in his immediate circle. Instead of taking Chrissy and their long time association for granted, Ryan treated her with the same courtesy he bestowed upon every female. He was a little old fashioned, but in the best of ways.
    Lacey was an ass.
    Ryan glanced at his watch while reclaiming his seat. “Two minutes hardly counts as late. Besides I was early.”
    “Yeah, well. Thanks for taking the time.”
    “Anything for you, short stuff.”
    An old fashioned guy who also liked to tease . “I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”
    “It’s that or Christmas.”
    Her given name. A name she’d abandoned the year she’d gotten gobsmacked by a hard dose of reality. “Why can’t you call me Chrissy like everyone else?”
    “Because you’ll always be Christmas to me.”
    “You just like busting my balls.”
    “The anatomical impossibility of that statement aside,” he said, “yeah, I do. But in this case, I’m serious. Just because some jerkwad—”
    “Can we not go there,” Chrissy said. “A) Old news. B) This isn’t about me.”
    “What’s it about?”
    Jane, the younger of the two servers, presented Ryan with a loaded plate. A generous helping of lettuce, tomatoes, and pickles bumped up against a fat juicy cheeseburger. And either that was a double order of fries or Jane had talked the cook into heaping on extra. “Can I get you anything else, Sheriff?” she asked in a sing-songy voice. She didn’t bat her eyelashes, but she may as well have.
    “I’m good.” He looked to Chrissy. “What’s your poison?”
    “Chocolate milkshake, please. Extra thick.”
    “That’s it?” Jane asked.
    “That’s it.” After the woman left, Chrissy motioned to her companion’s heaping plate.
    “Little early for supper.”
    “This is lunch.”
    “Oh.”
    “So why did you want to see me?” he asked while dressing his burger. “Everything okay with Melody?”
    “Mel’s great.” Really, she was. Chrissy reminded herself of that every day even as she cursed her daughter’s profound hearing loss.
    Ryan raised a brow.
    Right . Chrissy decided to get to the point while guarding Bella’s need for secrecy. “What do you know about Joe Savage?”
    “The guy who inherited Rootin’ Tootin’ Funland?”
    “Yup.”
    “Why?”
    “I’m curious.”
    “Why?”
    “He’s cute and I’m interested.”
    “No, you’re not.”
    “How do you know?”
    “Because you’re still hung up on—”
    “No. I’m not. Can we not go there?”
    Ryan squirted ketchup on his mound-o-fries. “Why do you want to know about Savage?”
    “For what it’s worth,” she said, while snitching one of his fries, “everyone in Nowhere is curious about Savage. He moved here a month ago yet he rarely comes into town. He’s stand-offish, and intimidating, and he—”
    “Won Big Red in a game of poker.”
    She frowned. “Heard about that, did you?”
    “I hear about most everything,” he said while feasting on his burger.
    “What have you heard about Savage?”
    “Nothing of interest. But I’m starting to think I should pry. Does this involve Georgie?”
    “Not directly.”
    “Angel?”
    Chrissy noted Ryan’s subtle change of tone and she couldn’t help but feel a little sad. He’d been carrying a torch for Angel for years. Not that that was common knowledge. He’d slipped once after a few beers at a rodeo hog roast then immediately swore Chrissy to secrecy. “Angel’s not involved,” she assured him. “Except by way of extension like Georgie and me.”
    “Which leaves Bella or Emma. And since Savage took possession of Archie’s truck, I’m guessing Bella.”
    “I can’t be specific. Please don’t press. Although I will tell you Uncle Archie is once again in possession of Big Red. Thanks to