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wound up in the mix, and where to cut the roots. After we’d
finished separating, I washed the florets and put them on to boil
before turning my attention to the roots. While I washed and
chopped roots, Charlie followed my instructions to set out the
supplies we’d need to finish the flowers. He watched with
fascination as I put the dandelion roots on to roast.
    “You have to tell me what we’re making,” he
implored as he handed me the coffee filter I’d requested.
    “It’s more fun to make you wonder,” I shook
my head and carefully strained the water with the yellow flowers.
“Can you hand me that sugar?”
    He did as I requested, watching intently as I
mixed the ingredients together and began pouring the mixture into
canning jars.
    “When this cools, you can have your very
first taste of dandelion jelly,” I nodded at the jars as I got the
dandelion roots out of the oven.
    “Dandelion jelly?”
    “Sure. It tastes a little like honey. It’s
very good for you. So’s the coffee.”
    “Coffee?”
    “It’s what we’re making with the roots. It
makes a very good decaffeinated coffee,” I assured him.
    “And you plan to sell this?”
    “Oh ye of little faith. Yes, I plan to sell
it. There’s always a market for herbal remedies that don’t taste
like medicine. Package it pretty and it’ll sell.”
    “I think I believe you,” he still seemed
unsure. “But what about the greens?”
    “Those’ll be turning up in my cooking.”
    “Huh.”
    “What? It’s better for you than spinach and
cheaper, too.”
    “Okay.”
    “Don’t sound so convinced. I think the roots
are cool enough to grind if you want to put them in that food
processor. You know, there are other things we could do with these.
I just thought this was a good place to start.”
    “I never knew.”
    “Most people don’t,” I shrugged. “Would you
like me to brew you a cup of dandelion coffee?”
    “Sure. Why not?”
    When we’d processed all of the dandelions I’d
brought in that morning, we stopped for lunch then went back out to
his field to harvest more. I showed him how to use the steak knife
to cut the roots and which ones to leave behind.
    By early evening, my back was screaming from
the long day, but I was flushed with the joy of having spent a day
laughing. I didn’t want it to end, so maybe I was a tad too eager
to agree when he asked if I’d go to dinner with him at the diner on
the town square.
    “Just don’t strip naked and go streaking,” I
cautioned after calling Anjelita to tell her not to hold dinner for
me.
    “But it was your idea,” he pouted.
    “But now I’ll be with you. I have a
reputation to uphold.”
    “Ah,” he feigned serious contrition. “Then
I’ll be on my best behavior.”
     
     
     

Chapter Six
     
    I’m not sure who was more embarrassed when
the brassy blonde stood hand on hip in front of our table glaring
at me. Charlie had introduced us; I’d offered a handshake. She’d
ignored it and had been staring at me ever since.
    Elena was the sheriff’s daughter and I got
the distinct impression she thought Charlie belonged to her.
    “So, are the two of you dating?”
    “Only if I can convince Neena to give me a
chance,” Charlie met my eyes in a way that made my stomach
flutter.
    “That doesn’t make any sense. She’s been in
town for two minutes, Charlie,” the blonde protested.
    “Elena, sometimes the heart just knows what
it wants,” he shrugged and smiled. “Now you have a good evening and
tell your daddy I said hey.”
    She frowned prettily at Charlie, gave me a
final glare, and sashayed out of the little diner. Any hope I had
of going unnoticed in this town went out the door with her.
    “Bravo,” I flashed him a smile while trying
to settle my heart back into a steady rhythm. “That was a very
stirring performance.”
    “Sure.…”
    What did that tone mean? Sure you’re crazy,
or sure it wasn’t a performance? How could one word be so loaded? I
spent the rest of my