Welcome to Harmony by Jodi Thomas

citizen dodgeball. “You might have to cast a wide net, Sheriff McAllen. Last week, Stella McNabb came to the canasta game at my house and commented twice about how the glare of artificial light didn’t seem natural in the night. You ask me, there’s something wrong with her. I’ve seen it in folks who’ve never lived in town.” Dallas wiggled her finger. “They frown at things you and me accept. I know for a fact Stella’s never used the ATM. Now tell me that ain’t strange. Might be worth a look to check her husband’s car for a gun.”
    Alex guessed everyone within a hundred miles owned a rifle. “I think we’ll just replace the bulb.”
    The round little woman huffed. “That’s what you did last week and the week before that.”
    Alex thought about saying, You win, Mrs. Logan, I’ll round up everyone for five blocks around and interrogate them for hours without food or water. We’ll get to the bottom of this crime if I have to jail half the town.
    “I had to fight to get this light here, you know. It wasn’t easy. Ronelle and I went down to the courthouse a dozen times before we finally got them to put it up. This corner was far too dark. All kinds of worthless people could walk right up and look into our windows at night and we’d never know.”
    Somehow, Alex doubted Ronelle had held up her half of the fight at the courthouse. She’d said good morning to the girl every day since she’d been sheriff, and the postal worker had yet to answer back. If Alex started investigating broken bulbs, the next thing she’d have to do would be to search down the criminal who was working all the crossword puzzles in magazines before they were stuffed into mailboxes. Alex had a pretty good idea who was behind the post office crime, but until someone filed an official complaint, she wouldn’t say a word to Ronelle.
    Dallas Logan was still complaining about every neighbor around her when Hank Matheson and Willie Davis drove up with a ladder from the firehouse.
    They got out and replaced the bulb without a word.
    “Well, it’s about time,” Mrs. Logan said when they were finished.
    Alex mouthed a thank-you to Hank.
    He smiled. “The city boys were busy with a water leak, so I thought we’d pitch in.”
    Dallas Logan waddled back to her house mumbling to herself.
    Alex watched Willie sweep up the glass, forcing herself not to look at Hank. They hadn’t seen each other since the day in the orchard almost a week before.
    Hank broke the silence. “Someone said your little brother won a buckle at the rodeo Saturday night.”
    “Yeah, my dad drove over from Amarillo to watch. We’re all real proud of Noah, but I’m not surprised he takes to bull riding; Dad started putting him on sheep when he was four, calves by the time he was seven. I swear, I can still hear the echoes of Mom and Dad’s fights over him trying to breed rodeo into his sons’ blood. It didn’t take with Warren, but Noah claims he was born to ride rough stock.”
    “Can’t blame your dad,” Hank said. “He was the best bull rider in the country when he was younger. I remember he took Warren and me with him to the rodeo in San Antonio once. He’d been retired for years by then, but every cowboy in the place paid their respects.”
    She couldn’t argue with that. Her father had always been bigger than life. He had won his first national title before he turned twenty. When he’d finally given it up, everyone in town probably saw the restlessness in him. He’d started a cattle trucking company based out of Amarillo and was gone most nights. Warren took over taking care of the ranch and helping raise Noah while she went away to college. Their dad was always there, somewhere in the background . . . far in the background, but never around when they needed help with homework or just wanted to talk.
    When Warren died, their dad lost what little interest he had in the ranch and moved full time to Amarillo. The fighting she’d grown up hearing