Kiss Me, Sheriff!. Wendy Warren

top-rated cable cooking show. Basically, she was a star, but Willa had known her since they’d attended culinary arts school together, and they were, above all, each other’s support system.

      This morning, Daisy answered on the fourth ring. “Damn, what time is it?” She sounded sleepier than usual.

      “Five forty-five in your neck of the woods,” Willa informed. “Didn’t your alarm go off?”

      “It must have been about to.” There was a rustling of sheets. “What’s up, tootsie? How’s life in Mayberry R.F.D.?”

      A smile rose to Willa’s face, and she was grateful already that she’d phoned. Padding to her kitchen, she pulled several carrot-raisin muffins out of a plastic container, drizzled them with water and popped them into the microwave so they would steam.

      “I pissed off the sheriff,” she said baldly, placing a challah bread she’d brought home from the bakery into a picnic basket.

      “Sheriff McYummy?” Visiting Thunder Ridge for a weekend the previous spring, Daisy had noticed Derek immediately. “Is he still stalking you?”

      “He doesn’t stalk me.”

      “With his eyes, he does. I would love to be stalked by eyes the color of a Mississippi mud pie. So how’d you piss him off?”

      Ignoring the comment about Derek’s eyes (which, yes, were almost impossibly dark and chocolaty and, well, deep) Willa said as casually as she could, “We had a disagreement about how to handle a petty theft at the bakery. A child took a few bucks. Sheriff Neel wanted to do something about it, and I didn’t. Should have been the end of the story, but we got into a... I don’t know, I said some things I shouldn’t have, I suppose. Now I feel guilty. I mean, the whole thing—it’s no big deal, right? You can’t please everyone.” She shoved a can of cat food and a small plastic bowl into the basket. “You’re so good at saying what you think and damn the torpedoes. That’s how I want to be.” She forced a laugh. “That’s how I am going to be! I’m so glad you picked up the phone. I always feel better after we talk.”

      The silence on the other end was deafening. There weren’t even sounds of coffee preparation. Finally, Daisy commented with uncommon gentleness. “You’re starting to feel again.”