Manhunting by Jennifer Crusie Page B

brushwork,” he announced. “Paint By Numbers stuff.” The young man behind the counter looked ready to defend his art with his fists, so Kate asked if he had any pictures of the lake and bought one that featured the willow in soft shades of green.
    “This is beautiful,” she told the young man. “I love this part of the lake, and now I’ll always have it with me.”
    “My mom painted that,” he said. “I’ll tell her what you said. She’ll be real happy.”
    Donald snorted.
    They went into Mother’s Sewing Basket and looked at locally made quilts and coverlets. Penny found a crazy quilt in shades of yellow. “This would look great on my bed,” she said. Brian grew pale at the thought and moved closer to her. “Cheap fabric,” Donald said. “They’re using polyester instead of cotton.” The little old woman stitching by the window looked ready to cry, so Kate bought a peach-and-blue comforter for her apartment.
    “I’ve never had a real patchwork quilt before,” she told the old woman. “This will keep me warm all winter.”
    “It will that,” the old woman said, and patted her hand.
    Donald sneered.
    They went into Cline’s Dry Goods and found rows of cotton and flannel shirts in bright plaids, stacks of dark blue jeans, and piles of socks, white T-shirts, and underwear that Donald snickered at. They also found, to Penny’s delight, a rack of cowboy hats.
    Mrs. Cline came out from behind the counter to help her.
    “You’re so pretty, you’ll look a treat in any of them, honey,” she told Penny. “It’s a real pleasure to see you try them on.”
    Penny beamed at her and tried on a blue one with golden feathers around the crown.
    “All right,” Brian said.
    “It’s you,” Kate said, laughing. “You have to have it.”
    “You, too.” Penny pulled her over to the rack. “You get one, too.”
    Mrs. Cline picked up a red hat with white beads. “Try this one,” she urged Kate. “You’d be a picture in a red dress and this one.”
    Kate hesitated, and Penny shook her head. “No. That one.” She pointed to a black hat with silver medallions around its crown.
    “That’s for a man, honey,” Mrs. Cline said, but she got it down anyway.
    Kate put it on and mugged with Penny in the mirror.
    “We’ll wear these tonight,” Penny said, and Kate was about to tell her no, cowboy hats weren’t her style, when Donald picked the hat off her head.
    “One hundred and twenty-five dollars? That’s ridiculous.”
    Kate saw Mrs. Cline color.
    “I don’t think so.” Kate took the hat back from him, even though she did think so. “This is a high-quality hat. I’d have to pay a lot more for this in the city.”
    She put it on again and let it slide back so it framed her face. She looked a little bald with all her hair pulled into a chignon, so she took the pins out and let her hair fall free.
    “All right,” Penny said.
    “Now
it’s worth one hundred and twenty-five dollars,” Donald said gallantly.
    If she wore braids, she could pretend she was Annie Oakley. She’d always wanted to be Annie Oakley. What was she going to do with a one-hundred-and-twenty-five-dollar cowboy hat?
    She looked at Mrs. Cline, who looked at her and smiled.
    “I’ll take it,” she said. “Penny’s, too. My treat.”
    “Oh, Kate, really?”
    “Really,” Kate said.
     
    They went into Dickerson’s Snack Shop because Kate said she was tired of shopping. In truth, she was tired of spending money on things she really didn’t want. It’d be just her luck that the next place they’d end up would be a car dealership, and she’d have to make up for Donald’s big mouth by buying a ‘69 Chevy.
    “Hi, folks.” A round little woman came to the table, a pad in her hand. “What’ll it be?”
    “Hamburger and fries, lots of catsup,” Penny said.
    “Hamburger and fries, lots of catsup,” Brian said, adoringly.
    “Do you have anything broiled?” Donald asked.
    “Mashed potatoes and gravy,” Kate said,