AllFreeNovel
Share Us
ONTHEIRWAYout the door, Marie paused. “You lived and worked in Denver. Didn’t you ever see Deborah?” she asked.
Abby laughed. “I was a schoolgirl. And Lawrence didn’t have anything to do with her. Mary hardly mentioned her.” She frowned. “Funny, that never occurred to me before. Lawrence and I were from the same hometown that Deborah was, Catelow, but they didn’t ever have her over to visit and they certainly never visited her.” She paused. “I overheard them talking once. Mary said that she didn’t dare drop in on Deborah. I never heard why.”
“There was a really good reason for that.” Marie paused. More people were coming out the door. “Goodness, look at the time,” she said suddenly, having glanced at her watch. “We’ll be late back, and poor Mr. Owens isn’t in the best of moods lately!”
They went back to work and Deborah wasn’t mentioned again.
ABBYWASSORRYabout the sheriff’s dog. She wondered if there was a treatment, like there was for people.
She mentioned it to Hannah while Lucy was in her bedroom doing her homework.
“Oh, yes, they have all those treatments, but they cost thousands of dollars,” Hannah said. “And when they get through with them, the poor animal does die, but after going through hell first. Being taken back and forth to people, even kind and loving people, who hook you up and stick needles in you when you’re already sick and scared. That’s mostly how an animal would see it, even though we know vets do their best to keep our pets alive and well. And it’s not like it cures them. Maybe if they catch it early enough, on a young animal, whose people can afford it all.” She sighed. “Not a choice I’d like to have to make. My old Thomas is fourteen. He’s a sweet cat, but I’m not sure I’d put him through all that even if I could afford it.” She glanced at Abby while she took food off the burner. “You’ve heard about Sheriff Banks’s dog, I gather.”
Abby grimaced and nodded.
“He’ll go nuts,” Hannah said. “Absolutely nuts. Loves that dog like a child. Takes it everywhere with him, even to work.”
“I wish there was something we could do,” Abby said quietly.
Hannah wiped her hands on her apron. “Not much anybody can do. Except to be there, when he really needs a friend.”
Abby nodded.
THEMENWERErepairing a section of the barn, with loud banging and a few lilting remarks back and forth to each other, when a luxury SUV pulled up in the driveway. It was Saturday, and Abby wasn’t expecting company.
She went out, finishing a piece of apple she’d taken from the bowlful that Hannah had peeled and cored ready to make an apple pie.
It was the Miami man, Mr. Whatley, who’d pretended to be first a livestock expert and secondly a detective. She forced herself not to smile as he climbed carefully down out of the cab, using a step that he’d obviously had added to the huge, tall vehicle.
He came up to the porch, dressed in neat jeans and boots and a Western shirt with snaps under a shearling jacket that looked two sizes too big on him. He had on a Western hat, too—a Stetson with its trademark belt buckle hatband.
“Mr. Whatley,” she said, with a pleasant smile. “What can I do for you?”
He tipped his hat. “Miss Brennan, I’m just learning how to run a ranch and I need some advice.”
She hesitated. “You know, Mr. Whatley, the only thing I know about running ranches is that you leave that to people who know what they’re doing. I don’t.”
“Oh, it’s not that. I have to find a kindly woman like Aunt Bee who cooked for Sheriff Taylor onThe Andy Griffith Show!”
Abby reminded herself that letting her jaw drop wasn’t helpful. She swallowed. “Well, Mr. Whatley, the best thing would be to advertise in the local paper. In the help wanted column,” she added helpfully.
“Oh, no, that won’t do, I might get just anybody,” he said at once. “I pay really good wages,” he added, “and I’ll never ask for food after midnight or do anything to upset her. I promise.” He smiled.
She was racking her brain for some sort of answer when Hannah came up behind her. “There’s Mrs. Julia Donovan,” she pointed out. “She’s just widowed and about to lose her house because her husband left the house and all he had to his shiftless brother-in-law, who took over the property and told her she could have two weeks to find someplace else to live. Sweet man. How I do hope he trips over a stump and goes headfirst into a bed of stinging nettles.” She smiled sweetly.
Abby was hard-pressed not to die laughing. She coughed instead.
“Is she a nice person?” Mr. Whatley asked.
Hannah grinned. “Shouldn’t you ask if she could cook first?”
“Oh, I’m used to bad cooking. My sister can hardly boil water. But being nice is more important than anything else,” he added very solemnly.
“Well, she cooks like an angel. And she’s one of those people who are taken advantage of because they’re nurturing folk.”
Mr. Whatley smiled and nodded. “Just the sort of lady I’m looking for. Could you tell me how to get in touch with her?”
“I certainly can. I’ll write down her telephone number for you right now, and I’ll phone her first and tell her you’d like to see her about a possible job. She’s rather shy...”
