The Matchmakers of Butternut Creek Read Online Free PDF Page A

common. They’d both lost daughters to drugs. Oh, the two girls—women now—were still alive as far as Birdie knew, but their addictions had ruined them, made them leave their homes and families and go to some big city where getting drugs and finding a way to pay for them was easier.
    But Birdie’s daughter, Martha Patricia, had left behind her two daughters for their grandmother to raise. Sometimes the stress of rearing teenage girls made her feel more than her nearly seventy years of age.
    A friend for most of those years, Mercedes could read Birdie’s face easily. “You know you love those girls. You’d’ve shriveled up and died after Elmer passed if you hadn’t had those girls around.”
    “Mercedes Olivia Suárez de Rivera, I have never, ever, in my whole life contemplated curling up and dying.”
    “But you do dote on those girls.”
    “I swan!” The woman was so persistent Birdie wondered why she’d put up with her for all these years. “Where is this conversation going?”
    “I’m only saying that you and Farley Masterson have that in common.”
    “He’s not raising his grandchildren.”
    “No, but…”
    “Mercedes.” Birdie raised her right eyebrow. “Why are you talking about Farley Masterson? I haven’t seen the old coot”—she stopped and changed that description—“I haven’t spoken to the man in years.”
    “You know he used to keep company with that widow over in San Saba.”
    Birdie scrutinized her friend’s face. “Are you interested in Farley? Do you want my permission to keep company with him?”
    “Oh, for heaven’s sake, no.” Mercedes shook her head. “You know I’ve been seeing Bill Jones down at the bank for years. We’re comfortable together.”
    “So why did you mention Farley?”
    Mercedes blinked again. Birdie knew her friend wasn’t trying to sneak away with her favorite doll, but the expression did mean she had something devious in mind.
    “You aren’t suggesting that I—that I should keep company with Farley Masterson, are you?”
    “Would that be too horrible? When you are alone—and you will be, Bird, when the girls both go off to school—wouldn’t you like to have a man in your life?”
    “I’m gobsmacked,” she said.
    “I’m not sure that’s the word you want,” Mercedes said. “That’s fairly new British slang.”
    “What does it mean?” Mercedes always thought she knew everything. Drove Birdie crazy.
    “Astounded, bewildered…” Mercedes began counting the words off on her fingers.
    “Then it is exactly the word I’m looking for.” She paused for maximum effect. “I’m absolutely gobsmacked. In the first place, I know Farley from back when he was sheriff. He picked up my daughter about every week, brought her home. We spent quite a bit of time together. Our relationship was not particularly friendly back then and hasn’t improved.”
    “And in the second place?” Mercedes encouraged.
    “In the second place, have you forgotten that the challenge for the Widows is to find mates for other people, for our minister, not for ourselves? I’m happy with my life as it is, extremely happy.” She snorted, which should have suggested the topic was closed.
    “I…,” Mercedes began.
    “Don’t have time for anything more in my life, much less a man. Now let’s talk about what the Widows can do for others.”
    Her friend closed her mouth, but Birdie could tell the subject wasn’t finished. Mercedes was as stubborn as she was. Probably the only reason they’d remained friends all these years.
    “Is this the reason you didn’t want Winnie here? Because you wanted to talk about the old…” Birdie paused. “You wanted to talk about me and Farley”—she rolled her eyes—“in private?”
    “Well, not only that. I miss you and me, the two of us being alone to chat.”
    Birdie didn’t believe that excuse for a moment, but before she could respond, Mercedes asked, “What do you think about inviting Blossom Brown to be a