Sherryl Woods - Sweet Tea At Sunrise

He gave them a disarming grin as the murmurs spread. “I gather that those of you who didn’t recognize me at first are familiar with the sound of my voice. I’m Bill Roberts, longtime host of Top of the Morning, and previous owner of the oldies station over in the next county.”

A cheer erupted as he confirmed the guess that had been spreading through the crowd.

“Now did y’all listen real close to what I said?” he asked. “That’s previous owner.” He paused to let that sink in, then said, “And now I’d like to introduce you to the man who’s helping me to retire to a life of fishing, Mr. Travis McDonald, the brand-new owner of Serenity’s own radio station, WSER.”

Sarah gasped right along with everyone else. That’s what Travis had been up to in that building across the green? He’d been turning the building into a radio studio? No wonder Grace had sounded so excited just now.

She turned her attention to Travis, who was standing at the microphone as if he were a born public speaker. She envied him that confidence. She doubted she could have said two words without getting all tongue-tied. He just stood there calmly until the murmurs died down. Then it seemed as if his gaze sought her out. It was as if he were addressing his remarks straight to her.

“How y’all doing?” he asked. “I hope you’re as excited about the idea of having a radio station here in town as I am about putting one on the air.”

“What kind of music?” someone called out.

“Country,” Travis said at once. “Is there any other kind in this neck of the woods?”

The news was greeted with another cheer.

“What else are you putting on the air?” a new voice asked.

“Oh, there will be plenty of local talk about what’s going on around town,” he assured them. Again, his gaze seemed to lock directly on Sarah.

Listening to him and feeling the way his eyes held hers, Sarah got the oddest feeling there was something significant in what he was saying, something she ought to take note of, but she couldn’t imagine what it could be.

“Now here’s the thing,” Travis said, when the crowd had quieted. “This is Serenity’s radio station as much as it is mine. If there’s something you think ought to be on the air, I’m counting on you to tell me. I’m not a local, but I have ties here. You all know my cousin Tom, your town manager.”

That created another buzz as people made the connection.

“Well, you can be sure I’m not going to do anything to shame him,” Travis said. “For one thing, he’s taller than I am, and a whole lot meaner. I try not to tangle with him.”

Sarah grinned at the self-deprecating comment. She had a feeling Travis and his cousin would be an even match.

“The bottom line,” he continued, “is if I’m doing something on the air you don’t like, I want to hear about it. Of course, if there’s something you do like, I wouldn’t mind hearing about that, too.” He paused, then said. “Y’all ready to see our studio?”

The question was greeted with an affirmative shout. At some indiscernible signal from Travis, the brown paper covering the window came down offering a view of a small but obviously well-equipped studio. The best part, in Sarah’s opinion, was that passers-by would be able to look right in and see what was happening. And the host, of course, would be able to keep an eye on the town square where so much happened in Serenity, including the town’s beloved Christmas festival, its upcoming Fourth of July celebration and so much more. It was an ideal setting for a station that hoped to be part of the community.

As Travis offered to let folks walk through for a tour of the station, Sarah walked back to Wharton’s where Grace was waiting impatiently.

“So, what did you think?” Grace demanded.

“I think it’s amazing,” Sarah said.

“Good,” Grace said, smiling a secretive little smile before walking away, leaving Sarah to stare after her in puzzlement.

Before she could figure out Grace’s enigmatic reaction, the crowd from the square started spilling inside, and she didn’t have another minute to think about anything until after one.

As the last of the customers left, she noted that Travis had slipped in and was seated at the end of the counter, sipping on a Cherry Coke.

“How long ago did you turn up?” she asked.

“Not long,” he said. “So, what did you think of the announcement? I saw you on the square.”

“I think putting a radio station right downtown like that is fantastic. Congratulations!”

His gaze locked with hers. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do.”

“You interested in being part of it?” he inquired, his tone awfully casual.

Sarah stared at him, certain she’d misheard. “You mean like a secretary or something?”

He smiled, then shook his head. “No, I mean as host of the station’s morning show. I predict you’ll be a local celebrity in no time. In fact, Sarah Price, if you’re even half as good as I think you’re going to be, this is going to change your life!”

Sarah did not want her life changed. Not like that. She sat on the stool at the counter in Wharton’s staring at Travis McDonald as if he’d suddenly sprouted two heads. He’d said some pretty outrageous things to her over the past few weeks, but this was the craziest.

“You can’t be serious,” she said. “Me? On the radio?”

“That’s what I said.” He seemed undaunted by her shock.

“Not a chance,” she told him, dismissing the idea as ridiculous. “I wouldn’t have a thing to say.”

“You have plenty to say in here,” Travis said. “At least to everyone else. You have this easy way that gets people to open up. That’s what I want you to do on the air.”

“Why?” she asked, bewildered. “I mean why me?”

“Because I’ve been watching you. You know how to draw people out, make them laugh, get them to reveal themselves. You’ll be a natural at this, Sarah. I guarantee it.”

She studied him suspiciously. “So you want me to embarrass people in town on the air?”

“I never said that,” he replied with exaggerated patience. “I said you had a way with people.”

“Well, if I’m so good, how come you never answered a single one of the questions I asked you? You’ve been coming in here for what, a month now? And I don’t really know much more than your name and that you’re Tom’s cousin.”

“And that I own the radio station that’s going to make you a hometown celebrity,” he reminded her.

“Well, it took until today for me to find out about that,” she said. She waved off the comment. “But that’s not what matters, anyway. I haven’t gotten to know one personal thing about you.”

He grinned one of those slow, sexy grins that made her toes curl. “Because I’m a hardcase,” he drawled. “But I’m sure you could find out anything you want to know if you put your mind to it.”

Sarah scowled at the remark. “Don’t you imagine there are plenty of hardcases around? For all you know, you’d have nothing but dead air for a couple of hours every day. There’s nothing worse on the radio than a host who’s run out of questions and a guest who’s clammed up. I can’t just sit there and chatter away about nothing.”

“Sure you can. I’ve seen you do it in here every single day. And if things get really quiet, you can always pump up a Toby Keith song.”

“I prefer Kenny Chesney,” she replied, mostly to be contrary.

“Fine. You’ll play Kenny Chesney. And if you’re as bad at this as you’re predicting, you’ll have time for some George Strait and Trace Adkins, too.”

“You’re not taking me seriously. I can’t do this to people I’ve known all my life,” she argued.