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mind off Howard he asked, "How many acres is your place?"
    "About fifty. My father raised cattle and horses, but when times got tough, he sold most of the livestock and went to work as a ranch hand for Sage Tanner's father back in the day."
    The headlights of Flatfoot's truck captured the house in their beam and the windows reflected their glare. It was a typical two-story farm house with a wide front porch. He braked in front of the porch and Sally opened her door. He said, "Let me help you."
    She waited for him to come around and he held out his hand for her to grasp. Although not a monster truck, his Ford F250 was only about ten years old with a motor that purred. He followed her up the porch steps and when she tried to unlock the door her hands were shaking so much that he lifted the keys from her. "Here. Let me open it."
    She sagged against the doorframe.
    After the door was open he held her elbow and asked, "Which way is the kitchen?" She pointed. "You got a table and chairs in there?" She nodded. "Lead the way, honey." In the kitchen he pulled out a chair and settled her into it. Next, he located the coffee pot.
    She saw what he was doing and pointed to a cupboard. "Everything is in there." She continued talking while he got the coffee going. "I should have called in sick to work, but I didn't want to be by myself. I figured if I was around people, I'd be okay. Guess I was wrong."
    Flatfoot punched the button on the coffeemaker and lifted mugs from a cup tree to set on the table. He pulled a chair out, flipped it around to straddle it, and said, "I'm a good listener if you want to talk."
    Sally lifted red-rimmed eyes to his and again he thought what a damn fine-looking woman she was, even with a tear-streaked face.
    She said sadly, "Howard and I went to high school together. His parents moved here from Biloxi and bought a farm a little farther down the highway when we were sixteen. I remember the first time I saw him in the library. He looked so studious with his thick glasses and slicked back hair. He really wasn't handsome, but it was love at first sight for me. We became friends and after high school we became lovers. I thought maybe he'd ask me to marry him because we were always so good together as friends and lovers, but then he got offered a job selling restaurant products. He had to travel a lot and eventually moved to Denver. His parents sold their farm and returned to Biloxi. I still had hopes that he'd ask me to marry him, or at least ask me to live with him in Denver." She sobbed, "He never did. His job brought him back to Paxtonville every four to six months, and since Jason was a client, he always stopped by the Barn.
    "One day, I asked him flat out if there was ever going to be more between us than friendship and sex—I think they call that 'friends with benefits'—and he told me the truth. He said he wasn't the marrying kind, but he didn't want to break off our relationship. Of course, I had silly dreams of him changing his mind someday, but it never happened. One year turned into another and then another and we just kept up our 'friends with benefits' arrangement."
    The gurgling of the coffeepot let Flatfoot know the brew was done and he lifted away from his chair to retrieve the carafe. He returned to the table and filled their mugs.
    Sally said, "There's cream in the fridge. I like my coffee black."
    "Same here." He straddled the chair again, lifted his coffee to sip, and waited for her to continue.
    Sally circled the lip of her cup with her finger. "Yesterday, I got a letter from Howard saying he was taking an early retirement and moving to Dallas with a woman he'd met while attending a conference there. He said he'd always love me, but his new ladylove was the woman he'd waited all of his life for." Sally reached for a napkin and held it to her eyes. "How cruel is that? Here I've dedicated my life to him and he writes something like that."
    Flatfoot moved his chair closer to Sally, righted it, and