Chesapeake Tide by Jeanette Baker Page A

all that different.”
    Chloe frowned. “What does that mean?”
    He pulled over to the side of the road. “It means you get out here.”
    Her mouth fell open. “You’re dumping me, in the middle of nowhere?”
    â€œRelax, Chloe. Marshyhope Creek’s about fifty yards from here, just around the bend. The hardware store’s two blocks away.”
    â€œWhy can’t you drop me off there?”
    He stared out the window for a bit and then looked directly at her.
    Chloe Richards felt her heart race. She was quite sure she had never seen anyone so beautiful in her life.
    â€œYou won’t have a prayer of fitting in if you’re seen with me.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    He threw the cigarette out the window. “Let’s just say I’m not acceptable company.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong with you?”
    â€œI don’t fit the mold.”
    â€œWhat’s the mold?”
    He frowned. “You sure do ask a lot of questions.”
    â€œWell, what is it?”
    â€œJocks are the mold. Jocks and guys in ROTC heading for the Citadel or Annapolis and girls who like ’em.”
    â€œI won’t fit the mold, either. I’m not into sports. I’m going to be an actress. But it doesn’t matter, anyway. I already told you I’m not staying, so drive on.”
    He shook his head. “Either way, this is where we part company.”
    â€œMaybe you don’t want to be seen with me, dressed the way I am with nothing on,” she challenged him.
    He laughed. “That’s it. Now, get out of my truck.”
    Chloe opened the door and slid out. She leaned into the open window. “No wonder you’re not acceptable company. It isn’t because you’re not a jock, Bailey Jones. It’s because you’re rude.”
    His teeth were very white and she had never seen eyes so dark in her life.
    â€œBye, Chloe Richards. It’s been nice meeting you.”
    â€œYeah, sure. Stop by any old time.”
    He lifted his hand in a farewell salute. She stepped back, away from the truck, a slim straight little figure, rigid with injured pride and indignation.
    Taft’s Hardware sat on a corner, a square building with a flat roof and wooden doors that were securely closed. A wheelbarrow, garden supplies, brooms, shovels and packaged seeds cluttered the entrance. Chloe pulled at the door. It wouldn’t budge. Then she saw the sign. Closed for Lunch. Come Back at 1:00. Now what? How could a store be closed in the middle of the day? Stores had salespeople who lunched in shifts. She’d never heard of a store that was closed in the middle of a weekday. Why had they sent her on this errand at lunchtime? One more reason to hate Marshyhope Creek.
    The sun beat down relentlessly. She was hot, sweaty and beginning to feel sick. Her stomach rumbled. Defeated, she walked down the street, empty of anything alive in the sweltering noonday heat. It never occurred to her to go home without accomplishing her errand. She had her pride, and there was something about Cole Delacourte that made her seek his approval.
    Across the street, a door opened. Music drifted into the air. Drawn to the soothing sound and to the tall woman energetically sweeping the front sidewalk, Chloe made her way to the other side of the road. “Hello,” she said politely.
    The woman stopped sweeping. “Hello, yourself.” Her smile was lovely. “I’ve never seen you before.”
    Chloe shook her head. “I’m visiting my grandparents. I’m waiting for the hardware store to open.”
    â€œIt’s mighty hot out here. Would you like to wait inside?”
    Chloe sighed with relief. “Yes.”
    â€œI’ve got some iced herbal tea or maybe you’d like a smoothie?”
    â€œA smoothie? You have smoothies in Marshyhope Creek?” Chloe had died and gone to heaven.
    Verna Lee laughed and pointed to the window of her shop.