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mostly meaning the business dealings withMr. Manner and Mr. Ship, but covertly meaning the three men whom Allison hadn’t noticed. “I still think of her as our little cousin who needs protection and guidance.”
    Allison laughed. “We taught her how to jump off the rope swing at just the right spot so she wouldn’t hit rocks in the lake. I believe you taught her how fun it was to tie a bunch of firecrackers together and light them off at once. I’m not sure we were the best examples.”
    “Ah, the good old days,” I said.
    “She’ll be fine,” Allison said before she glanced unhappily at the time on her phone and then at the trucks that still needed her attention.
    Now wasn’t a good time to let Allison know about Peyton’s potential legal issues, but she needed to know as soon as possible. Later would have to work, though. Allison currently had enough on her plate.
    “Hey, why don’t I talk to Betsy and Jeff about their licenses?” I offered. “I know, I know, it’s not my job, but it’s not a big deal. I can handle it. I know them both well enough. I will explain how busy you are. They won’t care.”
    “I’m not sure, Becca,” Allison said. “It’s an official conversation; it should come from the market manager.”
    “Those two won’t care, I promise.”
    She didn’t take long to think about it.
    “All right,” she said. “But if there are any issues, call me immediately.”
    “I will.”
    “Thanks, Becca,” she said as she hurried away.
    I also wanted to tell her about Harry, but later would bebetter for that, too. I looked across the parking lot again, expecting to find him still there. But he wasn’t. He and his small car were gone.
    Peyton and Mr. Manner were deep in conversation, presumably about her bank account. I did a double take at them when I realized that something had changed. Neither of them seemed happy. Peyton’s arms were crossed in front of her and Mr. Manner seemed to be speaking sternly to her, or was that just their height difference and my perception? I took a step toward them, thinking I might need to intervene.
    But Allison’s words rang in my mind. I hoped Peyton really was okay. The fact that Harry had chased her from Arizona meant she might not be, but I didn’t know how to jump into her current conversation without seeming like I was doing anything other than interfering.
    Harry had said he didn’t have any solid evidence or she would have been arrested by now. Maybe she was totally innocent; maybe he wouldn’t find any solid evidence. I hoped not.
    As I turned again to make my way into the market, I caught Sam’s eye. He smiled and winked quickly before he crouched beside the noodle truck tire again. Oh, how I liked his smiles and winks.
    I shook off the flirtation. I was over thirty and twice divorced. Giddy, girly stuff was reserved for younger, less jaded women who weren’t responsible business owners and who hadn’t just agreed to perform an important task for the market manager.
    I couldn’t help it, though. I liked the things his smiles did to me. I often wondered at what point this would all stop. When would we become either tired as heck of each other or so used to each other that boredom set in? No matter—I hoped we both hung in there long enough to find out.
    I wove my way through the parking lot and then down the first aisle to the left inside Bailey’s entrance. Betsy was still in her stall, but that wasn’t a surprise; she typically stayed at the market through the entire afternoon. There were still a few tomatoes for sale in her bins, and she’d sell them all before she left. Though we didn’t know each other well or deeply, she and I had always gotten along. She was the first one to introduce me to tomatoes topped with peanut butter. The discovery had been one of the best and most surprising culinary snack moments of my life, and had cemented my admiration for the earthy woman who had a way with her produce that brought people