Finding Floyd Read Online Free PDF

and
frowned. "I'm sorry. Does Sandy usually hire you for this kind of
work?"
    Amused, his bright blue eyes twinkled and he
pushed a shock of red-gold hair off his forehead. "Ma'am. Just let
us know what you want done with that tree. You got a couple of
cords of right nice firewood there. We could stack it back there
next to the rest." He gestured to the neatly stacked logs at the
bottom of the hill.
    Behind them on the porch she saw two large
chain saws and a gas can. "I guess that would be okay, but how much
do you charge?"
    "Unless I miss my guess Darlin', smells like
you've got somethin' cooking." Mr. Evans looked at her hopefully.
"Some hot coffee and breakfast, and we'll call it even." They both
turned their charming smiles her way.
    "Oh." Diane looked over her shoulder at the
food she'd prepared. "Yeah, sure. Come on in."
    The men slipped off their muddy boots and
followed her eagerly inside.
    "That coffee sure smells good!" said Jesse
Evans.
    Her mind was still whirling as she filled two
cups and set them on the table. I made this special blend coffee
especially for Chris. "The hell with him," she muttered
angrily.
    "Pardon?" Jesse raised his brow in
question.
    Absent mindedly, she slipped the overdone
bacon onto a plate and brought it to them. "Sorry, I kind of burnt
the bacon. I've got plenty of eggs though, if you'd like."
    "That would be mighty nice. Don't mind if we
do and I like my bacon on the crispy side anyways," said Jesse,
popping a piece into his mouth, crunching noisily.
    In another minute she was serving them eggs,
toast, and putting butter and jam on the table. She topped off
their coffee and felt like a waitress in a diner as she served
them. As the food rapidly disappeared, she realized if Chris came
back there would be literally nothing left.
    Man! They can eat! I'd better mix up a big
batch of pancakes, just in case. After all they are working for
this. She moved a large, empty cookie jar over to make room on the
counter, got out the largest mixing bowl, and began to measure dry
ingredients. Maybe I should make some cookies and fill that empty
jar, she thought absently.
    "Are you making griddlecakes?" Startled, she
looked up at Jesse. He'd turned from his clean plate, leaning over
the back of his chair watching her intently. "My wife used to make
real fine griddlecakes. Do you use buttermilk?"
    She hesitated. "Umm. Yes, I do."
    Jesse smiled and nudged his son. "She makes
buttermilk griddlecakes."
    Kyle grinned at this revelation.
    Then Jesse asked her, "Do you like to
cook?"
    Puzzled, she looked over at them and said
hesitatingly, "Yes."
    "See there, Kyle. There's a woman who likes
to cook." He leaned back in the chair to watch her. "A big stack of
griddlecakes would be real nice. Now don't you hurry, Darlin'. We
got plenty of time. That tree out there ain't goin' nowhere."
    The eggs and toast were gone. They're still
hungry? Seriously? I'd better double the recipe in case Chris comes
back. Finishing the batter as quickly as she could, Diane set the
huge bowl to rest, laid more bacon on the pan, and popped it back
in the oven. While she worked, the two men sipped coffee and sat
back to watch her as she moved around the kitchen.
    She heated up the B & B's extra large
griddle and started cooking. I can fit eight pancakes on this thing
at once. It's a good thing, at the rate they eat.
    As they were finishing their second stack of
pancakes, she heard a vehicle outside and rushed to the window.
Maybe it was Chris!
    Disappointed, she watched as a man in jeans
and flannel shirt got out of a pickup truck and stood, hands on
hips staring at the fallen tree.
    Jesse saw her looking through the window.
"Now then, don't you worry. We'll get that there tree cut up,
directly. Kyle, you get those dishes over to the sink."
    The younger Evans gathered up the plates,
carried them to the sink, and began to rinse and stacked them. They
made eye contact and he winked at her.
    Surprised, Diane studied Kyle. He