Fried Pickles and the Fuzz Read Free Page B

with festive banners boasting the thirtieth annual Big Creek Days.
    Picturesque and quaint just didn’t seem to accurately describe their little town. Unlike many small towns, Big Creek’s square didn’t boast a large courthouse or county building. Instead it was a family - friendly, manicured garden of sorts , where residents were free to picnic in the shade of large oak trees or sit on any of the number of park benches scattered around. Bright flowers bloomed in the numerous maintained beds , and smack dab in the center sat a large white gazebo used for everything from the county cloggers shows to public speaking events and live music.
    It would be the center of many of the events taking place during the festival this coming week , including the box ed lunch auction, picnic , and dance on Saturday. Heather was looking forward to all of the events. It had been a few years since she’d been able to enjoy the full week of festivities , and while she wouldn’t be able to participate in all of them , she planned on at least seeing as many as she could. The parade was just the start of a fantastic week to come. She just knew it.
    Moving carefully, Heather wove her way through the throngs of folks all settling into position for the parade , toward the feed store at the end of the block. Beth Ann would no doubt already have their spot secured and would either be snuggled up to Billy or chomping at the bit for him to run the last customer out of the store and join her by the light pole.
    Another ten feet confirmed her first suspicion. Beth Ann and Billy were standing arm in arm on the corner, a group of small children from town right in front of them sitting on the curb. They both waved as they saw her approaching. “We were starting to wonder if you’d changed your mind and decided to hole up in T he Pickle.” Billy tugged her braid.
    â€œAnd miss the opening event? No way.” Heather had waited a long time to get back to Big Creek , and she didn’t want to miss a single minute of this festival.
    â€œThis will be your first festival in what, three years?” Beth Ann picked a dab of fluffy cotton candy from the mound on the cardboard cone she held and popped it into her mouth.
    â€œYep, and I’ve really missed them.” Scanning the crowd across the street on the square lawn, Heather looked for Bronson.
    â€œWho ya lookin’ for?”
    Heather glanced at Billy. With his dingy ball cap cocked slightly to the side and his crooked smile , it was easy to see why Beth Ann was so smitten. Blond hair and green eyes only seemed to add to the rugged appeal that Billy exuded. Years spent working in his famil y’s feed store and grain mill had chiseled his muscles into works of art. His biceps and forearms bulged beneath his deeply tanned skin, toned and rock hard from lifting and toting fifty-pound sacks of grain and feed for nearly fifteen years. “I’m just trying to see who all made it this year.”
    â€œMm m- hmm.” Beth Ann offered Billy a bite of her spun sugar. “You’re not foolin’ anybody, hon. Tall, dark , and studly came by about five minutes ago , heading down to the parade start to make sure everyone is all ready.”
    Billy swallowed his cotton candy and looked down at Beth Ann. “Studly, huh?”
    The redhead giggled, stood on her tiptoes , and kissed the tip of his nose. “ Doesn’t hold a candle to you, baby.”
    â€œYou two are positively nauseating.” Heather began scanning the crowd again. While most of the faces were locals, there were a number of visitors and tourists who had popped into town for the festivities this year. Big Creek Days had really grown in popularity during the past three years , it seemed. Beth Ann had told her that the Friday night rodeo was now one of the biggest in West Texas , brin g ing in competitors and spectators from all over the country.
    For a small Texas town that balked at