Cherishing Mrs. Right
Debbie White
Copyright © 2016 by Debbie White
All Rights Reserved
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used
in any manner whatsoever without the express written
permission of the publisher except for the use of brief
quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands,
media and incidents either are the product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Author acknowledges the
trademarked status and trademark owners of various products
referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used
without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is
not authorized by, associated with, or sponsored by the
trademark owners.
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, 2016
Cover Design by Madge H. Gressley, MEG Originals,
www.meg-originals.com, gressley@sbcglobal.net
Editing done by: Daniela Prima from Prima Editing &
Proofreading Services
http://www.primaeditingproofreading.weebly.com/
Dedication
This book is dedicated to every man and woman
who’s ever worn the uniform and to all those
veterans with entrepreneurial spirit; I applaud you
and support your endeavors.
Find the person who will love you because of your
differences and not in spite of them and you have
found a lover for life.
– Leo Buscaglia –
Chapter One .............................................................. 6
Chapter Two ........................................................... 20
Chapter Three ......................................................... 39
Chapter Four ........................................................... 54
Chapter Five ............................................................ 68
Chapter Six ............................................................. 78
Chapter Seven ......................................................... 89
Chapter Eight ........................................................ 102
Chapter Nine ......................................................... 113
Chapter Ten ........................................................... 122
Chapter Eleven ...................................................... 141
Chapter Twelve ..................................................... 152
Chapter Thirteen ................................................... 170
Chapter Fourteen ................................................... 181
Chapter Fifteen ..................................................... 191
Epilogue ................................................................ 197
Chapter One
It was a warm sticky day. The kind where your
jeans stick to your thighs and the sweat pools in the
folds of your skin and your breathing is heavy and
labored. The humidity must have been 80%, and
nothing but a downpour would cool them off. By the
looks of the dark sky, it would come down any
minute now, and Cody would get his wish.
He’d been working on the ranch repairing a
broken section of fence. He reached up and with one
swift move removed his cowboy hat and wiped the
sweat from his brow. He gave his head a quick shake
and droplets of moisture sprayed everywhere. He
placed his hat back on his head as he looked over at
his faithful companion, a redbone coonhound he’d
had since it was a pup.
Just then, a loud boom followed by a crack had
Cody looking up at the ominous sky. “Come on, boy.
We better get back home before the storm drops a
gallon of water on us.”
Cody and Tracker made it inside the truck just in
time. The clouds opened up and raindrops the size of
pebbles hit the windshield. Cody sat a moment
listening to the sounds of the wipers as they pushed
the water off the windshield. The sound of rubber
and droplets hitting the roof and windshield made for
some very relaxing noises. He sat quietly as he
listened on. He shook his head to snap out of the
almost catatonic state he felt himself falling into.
As they traveled down the gravel road that would
lead them home, Cody followed the storm with his
eyes. By his calculations, they might not make it
under cover before all hell broke loose.
Sure enough, as he expected, they could not beat
the storm and had to sit in the truck for a few minutes
to let the storm pass.
Cody raked his heels across the back of the
porcupine-looking boot scraper—a gift from an old
girlfriend. He thought about her briefly then
continued scraping the mud off.
Cody put the key in the door and unlocked it,
pushing it back so that Tracker could enter the house
first. Cody tossed his keys onto the hallway console
table and observed Tracker making a beeline for his
oversized comfy bed. He plopped down making a
whining sound as he did. He was getting on in years,
and arthritis and hip dysplasia were causing him
some pain. Cody tossed his hat onto the coat tree
nearby and went to the fridge. He popped the top off
of a cold beer and headed for his favorite leather
chair in the adjoining family room.
Cody settled into his comfortable chair and
sipped his beer. In the distance, he could hear the
thunder, and soon after, saw a flash of light through
the blinds. The lights flickered for a moment and
then blazed on. Tracker was resting but with both
eyes opened and watched his owner. “It’s okay, boy.
Just a little thunder. My mom used to tell me it was
the angels bowling,” he said with a laugh. Just then
the phone rang.
* * *
Cody greeted some of the patrons as he made his
way through the restaurant toward the kitchen. He
wasn’t sure what to expect. Crystal, his manager on
duty, had told him that some ceiling tiles had fallen.
He hoped it wouldn’t be a major repair job.
Cody eyed the area. He saw buckets under an
area of the ceiling catching water from the recent rain
storm but what really caught his eyes was his number
two chef holding a blood-soaked towel over his
head!
Cody rushed to his side. “Man, are you all right?”
Marcus nodded. He pulled the towel away, and
Cody’s eyes widened. “You need stitches. Let me
give you a ride to the hospital.”
“I called my girlfriend. She’s going to take me.”
The hair lifted on his arms, and his eyes darted
from Marcus’ injury to the fallen ceiling tiles. “What
happened?” Cody asked as he walked around the
other side o
f the stainless steel counters to assess the
damage.
“It happened fast. One minute I was chopping
onions and the next minute I saw stars—and it wasn’t
from the onion juice,” Marcus said, a smile forming
on his mouth.
“It could have been worse. You could have been
knocked unconscious. Have them send me the bill.
No matter the cost,” Cody said, visibly shaken.
The crew began cleaning up the debris but clearly
this would put a damper on tonight’s dinner service.
Cody turned his attention to the dining room
manager. “Yikes. This is a little more than just tiles
falling,” he said, looking up and seeing pink
insulation coming down where the tiles had been.
“It’s a little worse now. It was just a few tiles but
it seems there is a lot of water up on the roof, and it
is causing the roof to sag. I’m afraid we might have
to close the restaurant for tonight.”
Cody nodded. He brushed his hand through his
hair. “I’ll call a buddy to come take a look. Let’s see
if we can wrap up the dinner service with our current
orders and then I’ll tell the hostess to not seat anyone
else.”
gotten too busy yet.”
Cody turned around and walked out into the
restaurant. He told the hostess to not seat any more
patrons, and then after a while put the CLOSED sign
on the door. “I’ll contact my buddy, Frank, and see
when he can come by and fix the ceiling. I hope we
won’t be out of commission for more than a day,” he
said, dropping his head.
Cody took his cell phone out and found Frank’s
number under his contacts and called him. All he had
to do was promise him a steak and a bottle of wine,
and he would be happy to help.
Cody got back in his truck, satisfied that Frank
would take care of everything, and they’d be back in
business soon. He looked in his review mirror ready
to back out when he saw a pretty blonde get out of an
older model Toyota. What caught his eyes was the
colorful skirt and blouse she had on. The skirt, long
and flowing, had swirls of blue, purple, and pink,
similar to tie-dyed fabrics of the 70s. Her long
blonde locks fell below her shoulders, and she had a
flower in her hair. She clutched a cream colored
macramé purse to her chest as she pulled up her long
skirt and held it in her hand trying to avoid the
puddles. She made it to the sidewalk and looked over
at Cody. Their eyes met.
Cody opened his truck door and stepped out of
the vehicle. “Miss?”
The pretty blonde smiled. “Uh huh?”
“We’ve had a bit of a problem in the restaurant,
so it’ll be closing soon.” Cody looked up at the dark
sky. “All this rain seems to have caused my roof to
leak.” He looked back over to her.
The young lady searched his face. She paused
before replying. “Oh wow. That’s heavy. Sorry to
hear that, man. Can you direct me to another
establishment such as yours?”
Cody took off his hat and ran his fingers through
his thick wavy hair. The words that flew out of her
mouth didn’t match the image standing before him—
or did it? The more he looked her over, the more he
realized she was a blast from the past. “What are you
in the mood for?”
The pretty lady tilted her head. Cody’s cheeks
flushed. “Food—what are you in the mood to eat?
Mexican, Italian …?” he suggested.
Her eyes widened slightly. “I wanted steak.”
“Ah. Well, that does present a problem. I
couldn’t recommend a steak place when that’s what I
have here,” he said, motioning to the restaurant.
“Hey, I get it. Competition is a real thing,” the
lady said, as she made her way around the same
puddle and headed toward her car.
Cody watched her as she covered her head with
her purse. It was beginning to sprinkle. She’d just
reached her car when Cody realized he wasn't very
kind in not recommending a nearby restaurant. And
besides, something about this woman made him want
to know more. “Hey. Listen,” he called out.
She had one hand on her car handle about ready
to open it, but she stopped and looked his way. Cody
walked around to the back of his truck. “I can
recommend a place,” he said smiling. “In fact, follow
me. I’ll take you right to the place.”
The lady smiled. “Groovy.”
Cody hadn’t heard that word used in a long time.
He let out a little laugh. “Cool. Follow me.”
Cody got back into his truck and started it up. He
backed it out of the parking spot and waited for her
to catch up to him. Soon they were on the way to the
second best steakhouse in town.
Cody pulled into a large lot. The lady pulled up
alongside him. They each rolled down their windows
at about the same time. “This is the place I was
talking about. It’s not as good as my restaurant, but
it’ll do in a pinch,” he said grinning.
fixed up. Maybe I can stop by before I leave town.”
“Leave town? You’re just passing through?”
Cody asked grasping at any attempt to make
conversation with this woman.
“Yep. Just passing through,” she replied.
Cody waited to see if she’d volunteer anything
else. The silence was awkward. “Well, have a nice
dinner.” Cody hit the automatic button, and his
window began to close.
“Hey,” she called out before his window was all
the way up. “Can you tell me where the nearest
hospital is at?”
Cody furrowed his brows and tightened his lips.
“Are you ill?”
The lady laughed. “No. I’m fine.”
Cody gave her directions and watched as she
pulled her car forward and then maneuvered it into a
spot. He drove on shaking his head. Something about
her was strange for sure.
On the drive back to the ranch Cody thought
about his chef’s injuries, the ceiling repairs, and the
loss of business he’d most likely have from this
incident. He briefly thought about the little hippy
girl—his new name for her and how something about
her seemed odd, but in a good way. He was sort of
sorry she was just passing through.
Cody met his share of pretty little fillies, as he
called them. They came into his establishment all the
time. Tall, short, thin, plump, dressed in short skirts
or jeans, draped in gold, coming for the food and
drink, but coming to see if they could steal his
heart—or worse. Cody didn’t have time to play their
silly games. He’d been around the block a few times.
As a former Marine he’d been trained in combat but
also in intelligence. He k
new when he was being
manipulated. He was always cordial to them and
even would buy them a drink now and again, but he
had a rule. He didn’t get involved with any of his
patrons and he definitely never brought them home.
* * *
Cody and Tracker headed out to the east side of
the ranch to finish the fence repairs. No sooner did he
get his rawhide gloves on and his tool belt securely
fastened when his cell phone went off. “Really?” he
said, reaching for the phone.
Cody listened to the party on the other side. He
could feel his blood pressure rising. He paced a small
area as he tried to make sense of what the other
person was telling him. He tugged at one of his
gloves with his teeth and tossed it into the truck bed.
With one hand he unfastened the tool belt and tossed
it into the bed, too. He chewed his bottom lip as he
intently listened on. “I see. I understand. I’ll be there
in about an hour.” He ended the conversation and
securely placed the phone in its leather belt holder
and snapped it shut.
He tapped his boot toe for a second and then
peered up at the sky. “Sometimes you can’t get a
freaking break for trying.”
Cody slowly drove into the parking lot of the
local hospital. He immediately saw police cars and
policeman standing around a car. As Cody made his
way closer to the crowd, he saw the hippy girl
standing against her car weeping. Cody furrowed his
brows. A million thoughts raced through his mind.
Why was he called, and what was it he could do?
Cody approached the first police officer. “I’m
Cody Richardson. One of you called me.”
The police officer motioned him to follow. “You
need to talk to Officer Calhoun.”
Cody followed the officer as he’d been instructed
to. Soon he was in front of yet another officer. “I’m
Cody Richardson. You contacted me,” he said