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“I’m hiding Henry because you decided he wasn’t safe at the farm. One moment, you’re telling me that Ashton is a pig-murdering villain, and the next you’re telling me to apologize. Mixed messages, woman!”
Bec laughed. “Ashton’s farmer activities are villainous, I agree. But Ashton as a person is not all bad. Just deluded into thinking that turning innocent creatures into sausages is a good thing. If we could convince him to see it our way, he would be a great guy.”
“Your way,” Lily said tartly. “I haven’t dreamed up this crazy scheme, remember. It’s all your doing.”
“You’re my accomplice,” Bec said sweetly. “That makes you as guilty as I am, even if you have different reasons for agreeing to hide Henry.”
“So, let’s get this straight.” Lily looked at Bec through narrowed eyes. “If I were to apologize to Ashton, I would no longer have a reason to agree with you that he’s a villain who doesn’t deserve to have Henry.”
Bec looked alarmed. “Oh, no, don’t even think of it,” she said. “We’re in this together, remember?”
“But what would stop me from simply telling him what happened to Henry?”
“You’d have to admit that you were an accomplice,” Bec said. “You wouldn’t want to do that, would you? After all, you can hardly pretend you don’t know he’s in your yard.”
Lily recognized defeat when she saw it, but she wasn’t giving in easily. “I could just confess to the entire thing and be prepared to take whatever retribution Ashton might decide to dish out.”
“You wouldn’t,” Bec said confidently. “If you won’t apologize for the past, what makes you think you’d tell Ashton that you helped me take Henry?”
Lily sighed. “All right, I won’t tell. But just remember that it was your idea to take him and keep him.” She glanced out the window, noticing the long shadows and the golden glow of the setting sun on the panels of the back fence. “Have you fed the monster yet?”
Bec shook her head. “I was on the phone about a work matter after I got home. And I’m expecting another call, so would you mind doing it this time?”
“I suppose so,” Lily said, feeling ungracious. “But he’d better show me some manners.”
“He’s a sweetheart,” Bec smiled. “He’ll love you forever if you feed him.”
“I’m not sure I need to be loved by a pig,” Lily grumbled as she pulled on her gardening boots.
She opened the door to find Henry staring expectantly at her over the porch railing. A child-proof gate at the top of the steps had kept him from coming onto the porch, and Lily was glad it had been there when she bought the place. The high fences had been a bonus, too. They had kept the neighbors from seeing Henry, and Lily hoped that no one would discover he was there. She refused to think about the future when Henry would need to find another home. A suburban backyard was not the place for a full-grown boar, even a placid one like Henry. She got out the food and trotted down the steps to the half-barrel that Bec had been using as his feed trough. Henry followed her eagerly, his beady little eyes shining with interest.
“There you go,” she said, upending the bag into his trough.
Henry started eating loudly, and Lily wrinkled her nose.
“Your table manners leave a lot to be desired,” she told him, then decided to walk around the yard to check on her pot plants.
When she reached the sheltered nook where she kept them, her mouth fell open in dismay. “Henry!” she exclaimed. “You’re a naughty, naughty boy.”
Her precious plants were ruined, and Henry had dug a big hole in the damp soil where they’d been watered. Broken pots and pieces of plant littered the area, and as Lily bent to salvage what she could, Henry came up behind her with a soft grunt.
“You’re an awful beast,” she told him, glaring at him.
He regarded her placidly, then ambled to the hole he’d dug and sank onto his flank with a huff of bliss. Lily sighed and began the disheartening task of cleaning up the broken pots and the remains of the plants she’d been trying to grow.
She let herself out the side gate into the front yard, where the garbage bins were stored against the wall of the house.
“Hello, Lily.”
Lily’s head jerked up in surprise as she saw her neighbor, Gloria Parker, standing on the lawn just a few feet away.
“Oh, hi, Gloria,” she managed. “I didn’t see you there. How are things on your side of the fence?”
“Just fine, dear. Although I do wish that horrid little dog across the street would be quiet at night. Why do owners ignore them when they bark for hours?”
“I don’t know,” Lily replied. “I’m fortunate that I can’t really hear it when I’m inside.”
“You certainly are fortunate,” Gloria agreed. “Have you heard about Mavis down the street?”
