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“Yeah.” He nodded in agreement. “I’m already starting to itch.”
Once inside the house, Cat waited until Quint turned the shower on before she went to the phone and called Logan. “Hi, it’s me,” she said when he came on the line.
“What’s up? Need me to pick up something at the store?”
“No. If you don’t mind, would you stop at Uncle Culley’s place and see whether he’s around?” She added in a rush, “There’s probably nothing to worry, but he didn’t come by this morning and he wasn’t here last night. Knowing Uncle Culley, he probably camped out somewhere overnight and—”
“You think something has happened to him.” Logan’s statement carried no trace of disagreement.
Cat was relieved that he didn’t make light of her concern. “It’s not like him to stay away this long, Logan. Uncle Culley is an old man. Heaven knows where he might be or what might have happened.” She heard the frantic note in her voice and didn’t care. “I don’t even know where to start looking for him. He roams all over the place.”
“You’re right. He could be anywhere. Just to be on the safe side, give Jessy a call and have her spread the word to keep an eye out for him,” Logan suggested. “It’s better to look foolish when he turns up than to let more time go by and live with the regret of that.”
“I’ll call her as soon as I hang up,” Cat promised as the screen door’s hinge creaked nosily. “Wait. Somebody just walked in. Maybe—” She turned, but the loudness of the footsteps crossing the living room already told her they weren’t made by her soft-footed uncle. “Never mind,” she said into the phone. “It’s Tara. I’ll talk to you when you get home.”
“Honestly, Cat, you promised you would call,” Tara began with impatience the instant she hung up the phone. “And I have yet to hear from you. Which can only mean that you haven’t found the note. Have you?”
“No, I haven’t. And I don’t have time to discuss it with you, either,” Cat retorted with equal sharpness and rapidly punched the numbers for the Triple C.
“Who are you calling now?” Tara demanded with dramatic exasperation.
“Jessy, if it’s any of your business,” she replied and listened to the ringing on the other end of the line.
“It’s about time.” Tara took a seat and gracefully crossed her legs. “At least you finally realize that she was the one who took it.”
There was a heaviness to the air that seemed to warn of an approaching storm, but the sky over the Triple C headquarters held only a few puffy clouds. Jessy sighed with regret, even though she knew there was too much hay down for rain to be a welcome event right now. Later, after it was dry and baled and stored, it could rain all it wanted. She also knew Mother Nature didn’t always pay attention to whether it was the right time for something or not.
As she neared the steps to The Homestead, the front door opened and Trey tumbled out of the house to race across the veranda to meet her. “You been gone a long time, Mom,” he declared in a backhanded welcome.
“I know I have. So what did you do all day?”
“Nothin’.” He waited at the top of the steps.
“You must have done something,” Jessy chided.
“Nothin’ fun. Next time can I go with you?”
“We’ll see. Where is Laura?”
He fell in beside her as she crossed to the door. “Her an’ Beth are havin’ a tea party.” The derisive stress he placed on the last two words made it clear what he thought of it.
The air-conditioned coolness of the house greeted Jessy when she walked inside. It washed over her like a balm. She could almost feel her tiredness sliding away.
“Jessy,” Beth called to her from the living room. “Cat’s on the phone. She wants to talk to you. She says it’s important.”
“I’ll take it in the den, ” Jessy called back and made a slight alteration in her course, aiming for the room. “You can go home anytime you like, Becky. I’m back for the rest of the evening.”
She didn’t bother to ask the girl if there had been any problems. Jessy knew she would get a blow-by-blow account of the day’s activities from Laura, especially any mischief Trey might have caused.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to wait until you’ve talked to Cat, just in case?” Beth said, rising from the living-room sofa where Laura was holding her tea party.
“No, you run along. I’ll manage,” Jessy assured her and made the swing into the den.
Trey stayed right on her heels. “What’re we gonna have for supper, Mom? I’m hungry.”
“You are always hungry.” But his question served as a reminder that she had yet to find someone to prepare their meals.
“So what’re we gonna eat?” he repeated.
