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“Fine. Fine.” A gate creaked and clanged shut. “Randall Hedley came by.”
“What in the hell did that horse’s ass want?” I kicked at the metal plate of the open elevator door, but didn’t step inside.
“The ranch.”
Chapter Nine
Muriella
“Miss Muriella. Look at my turkey!”
Allie Mason ran at me full throttle across the kindergarten classroom at Saint Pius waving orange construction paper above her head. She screeched to a halt, but not fast enough. She thrust her hand out, planting her palm on my abdomen.
With a sheepish grin, she looked up at me. “Sorry.”
“What’s the big rush?” I glanced down. A six-year-old-sized brown handprint stained my cerulean sweater. “Where’s your turkey?” I peered around her. “Is he chasing you?”
“Nooo.” She giggled and held up the construction paper. “Here he is.”
I took the paper, examining it closely. “He’s a handsome turkey. Think he’d let us try on his hat?”
“We could ask him?” she suggested. Allie beckoned me closer. I bent, and she spoke in my ear. “He likes to be called Harry.”
“Like Prince Harry?”
She nodded so big her hair flew in her face.
I held the picture up. “Harry,” I said in a very serious voice, “Allie and I would like to try on your hat.”
I hid behind the construction paper. “Only if you give it back by Thanksgiving,” I said, using a gobbley turkey voice.
Allie stooped down and giggled again. I dropped my arm and laughed with her. The paper hat she’d glued to the construction paper was in her palm.
“Let’s get him patched up.”
She raced off, and I joined her at the table with her classmates, taking the little chair she offered me.
“That’s a lovely green turkey, Erik.”
“Turkey’s aren’t green,” Allie said, making a face.
“My mother says the world is any color I want it.” He squirted glue on the back of the paper hat in his hand and smacked it onto his turkey.
I backed him up. “She’s absolutely right.”
Allie’s mouth twisted down. “I want a green turkey.”
“Let me see your hand.” I slid the plate of green paint closer and gently held her wrist, dipping her hand into it. I pointed to the space beside Harry. “Your green fellow can go here.”
She pressed her hand onto the paper and grinned. “He’s got a friend.”
“I think Mr. Green needs an extra fancy hat.” I passed a cutout to her.
“Look. A cowboy.” Allie pointed toward the door.
I’d been very grateful for the distraction of volunteering at the school as a way to keep my mind off of Daniel, and more than that, the date the day before with Stone. I’d managed pretty well until I saw what Allie was pointing at.
“He doesn’t have a hat,” Erik said.
