by Meri Allen
Flo hurried back in. “You need help closing.”
“No, really, go ahead, we can manage,” I said.
“I’ve got this.” Flo yanked the sign from my hands and ran outside, then ran back in moments later, smoothing her hair.
It all made sense when the golden-ticket holder stepped in the door—the handsome guy wearing the cowboy hat I’d seen Saturday. Caroline closed the shop door and slid down the shade that said See You ToMOOrow. He touched the brim of his hat as she passed.
I admit I glanced his way as he looked at the flavors board. He had broad shoulders, trim jeans, plus one of those large belt buckles that look ridiculous on most men but on him looked just right.
I scooped maple walnut for the customer in front of me and packed it into a still-warm waffle cone. Flo shouldered past me to wait on the handsome cowboy. Caroline and I exchanged smiles.
“What can I do for you, stranger?” Flo grinned.
He smiled at her warmly. “Good evening.” He took off his hat. Though his hair was more gray than brown, it was thick and long enough to brush his collar. His eyes turned to me and he smiled again.
I swear the ice cream in that cone should’ve melted with the surge of heat I felt. Handsome … rugged … his eyes were a deep, dark brown, the kind you want to sink into and tell your troubles to, because you knew he’d understand.…
“Can I have my cone please?” My customer reached for his maple-walnut cone.
I was pulled back from my reverie. “Yes, anything else?”
Flo chatted with the cowboy and handed him a hot fudge sundae with mint chocolate chip ice cream.
He nodded at the cup. “I notice your mint chocolate chip isn’t green, like in many places.” His voice was husky and rich and smooth, like bourbon, like amber honey.
“We don’t use any artificial coloring or flavors.” Flo was cool. I’d be incapable of forming words.
The more I looked at him, the more the cowboy did look familiar … but I’d probably seen a model who looked like him on the cover of a romance novel in my dad’s bookstore.
The cowboy said, “Thank you kindly,” to Flo, touched his hat to me and Caroline, and went outside. I watched him cross the parking lot as I locked the door behind him. He leaned against a long black vintage Cadillac Coupe De Ville as he ate his ice cream, chatting with a couple sitting at one of the picnic tables in front of the shop.
Later, as I swept up, I watched his car pull out. Texas plates. Of course.
Flo hung up her apron, humming “Deep in the Heart of Texas.”
“I’m not paying you overtime,” I said.
She laughed. “That silver fox is worth every minute. Not often you see a hottie like that.”
“Who is he?” Caroline asked, her voice dreamy.
Flo shrugged. “Don’t know—yet. My sources tell me that he’s been seen in a few restaurants and shops in town. He does stand out.”
“In a good way,” I said. “My knees actually went weak.”
“So did mine.” Caroline’s cheeks pinked.
Flo grinned. “So did mine. And I’ve got arthritis.”
* * *
After cleanup, Caroline said, “Let’s drop off the banana bread for the farmhands.”
We went down the darkened drive to the Brightwoods’ farmhouse. The sprawling house had been built in the 1800s with a deeply slanted back roof in the typical saltbox Colonial style, and a series of whitewashed additions connected the house to the large red barn, additions that ensured that generations of farmers wouldn’t have to brave a blizzard in order to tend their animals. A small overhead light illuminated a shingle hung outside a side door: Prudence Brightwood, Midwife.
Warm light glowed from one open window on the first floor of the farmhouse and I remembered that Pru and Darwin had a bedroom near the kitchen. Every window was dark on the second story, where the interns bunked. Even the teen volunteers adopted the early-to-bed rhythms of farm life.
“I don’t want to disturb Pru and Darwin,” I said.
Caroline whispered. “I’ll just put the breads on the table. The door’s never locked.”
“What is it with you people never locking your doors?” I joked. Growing up in Penniman, I’d never locked my door either. Living in cities for so long, not to mention my occasional assignments as an operative, had made me jaded and security conscious.
We cut through the small kitchen garden, the scent of basil, rosemary, and thyme rising as we passed. I followed Caroline into the kitchen, holding the screen door behind me to ease it shut.
A single light glowed over the sink. Despite the hum of the refrigerator and the gleam of the stainless-steel stove, Pru’s kitchen always made me feel that I’d stepped back in time. A long wooden table set with homespun place mats and flanked by long benches ran almost the length of the room. A wooden turned bowl filled with peaches was set in the center on a mat woven in harvest hues. A brick fireplace blackened by the cooking smoke of centuries and tall enough for petite Caroline to stand in loomed at the far end of the kitchen. A rocking chair stood by the fireplace, a basket of knitting nearby. How did Pru find time to knit along with all her farm chores and midwifery?
A clock ticked over the fireplace mantel as we set the wrapped breads on the table. The sound of voices in quiet conversation came from the hallway. We tiptoed out and Caroline slowly closed the door to keep it from banging shut.
As we crossed the garden, Pru’s and Darwin’s voices suddenly streamed from the window.
Pru’s tone was pleading. “Help me understand, Darwin. Why didn’t you say something to the police?” She lowered her voice but I made out one word clearly. “Mike.”
I pulled up short and Caroline bumped into me.
Darwin replied, “I didn’t want Willow to know. I know, I’m a fool. I ruined everything and I’ve dragged you all with me. I can’t lose everything we’ve worked for. I couldn’t take that chance.”
Pru’s response was muffled, but I heard, “You did what you had to do.”
Darwin’s voice: “He wasn’t worth it, Pru.”
With a low cry, Caroline covered her ears and ran home.
He wasn’t worth it? He. Mike? I ran through the shadows after Caroline.
Chapter 15
The next morning, I dragged myself downstairs, rubbing my eyes. I needed a run. I’d tossed all night, Darwin’s words playing in my mind. He’d been working this farm for over twenty years and I’d never known him to be anything other than what he appeared to be—kind, hardworking, decent.
But all night an uncomfortable apprehension grew in me. Who had a lot to lose if the development became a reality? Darwin. Who’d argued with Mike the night he was killed? Darwin. Those words—“he wasn’t worth it.” Did that mean that Mike had asked him to do something that wasn’t worth Darwin’s self-respect?
I knew one thing for sure. Caroline had cried all night. I’d tried to talk to her about what we’d overheard but she insisted she wanted to be alone.
Sprinkles mewed softly from the kitchen, where she again sat at her perch by the window.
She jerked her head around as I entered. She blinked once then jumped down in front of the door, turning her flat face and copper eyes to me again with unspoken command.
I obeyed and opened the door. The little black cat I’d met at the barn sat on the welcome mat, looking at me as if to say What took you so long?
“Well, hello!”
Sprinkles looked at me, then the kitten, her demand clear.
I held the screen door wide. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, come in.”
Sprinkles blinked, as if granting permission to enter into her royal presence. The little guy sprang inside, his tail high.
As the kitten curled around my ankles, a deep purr coming from his throat, I could see the bones working under his fur. “You’re too thin, poor thing!” Sprinkles moved to sit by her food bowl and looked up at me again. Evidently, in addition to her meal, I was to prepare one for our guest.
I fed Sprinkles, then shook some dried food into a bowl for the newcomer and added a tiny bit of Sprinkles’ froufrou food. I didn’t know what this little guy had been eating but I didn’t want to hit him with anything too rich. He drank from Sprinkles’ water bowl without incident. I crouched and reached out my hand. He curled his head under it and let me pet him.
Then at an unspoken signal from Sprinkles, they trotted down the hallway together.
Caroline leaned over the banister as she came downstairs. “Hey, where’d you come from?”
We followed the cats as they went into the parlor. Sprinkles groomed a paw as her new friend sniffed the furniture. “We have a guest,” I said.
“He’s adorable!” Caroline crouched to get a better look at him, then whispered, “And look how nice she’s being to him.”
There was something so loveable about the little guy. His ear, bent and torn, gave him such a rakish, devil-may-care look. His eyes were gold and bright, with an uncanny expression that made me feel that he could understand everything I said. Plus, is there anything more adorable than a kitten?
But I didn’t like the scar on his back. “I think I’ll take him to the vet. Listen to me, like I have a vet.”
Caroline laughed. “Sprinkles’ vet is Liam Pryce, the hottest vet in New England. Word is he did some modeling to pay for school and was very successful, but instead he has dedicated his life to taking care of animals, which only makes him more attractive. Maybe we should both go to the vet.” She tilted her head. “This guy needs a name. Midnight? Shadow? Inky?”
“Let’s avoid the typical black-cat names. He’s a fighter,” I said. “I’ve got it. Rocky. Like the boxer.”
“Perfect. And he’s yours, so he’s Rocky Rhodes.” She laughed.
I groaned. Perfect for me now that I was president, CEO, and chief mechanic of the Udderly Delightful Ice Cream Shop.
I found the number for Dr. Pryce on a handwritten list posted by Buzzy’s vintage wall-mounted phone and punched it into my cell. I spoke to the receptionist. There’d been a cancellation, and could I be there in a half hour? I could.
Caroline dangled a toy and the little kitten rocketed after it. Sprinkles watched, her tail swishing lazily. “There’s an extra litter box in the mudroom,” she said. “I’ll set it up for Rocky. We have lots of stuff that Sprinkles never uses. Buzzy never threw anything out. I’ll get that all set up while you’re gone, then I’ll head down to the shop.” Caroline practically bounced into the mudroom, completely taken with the little guy. I’d wanted to talk about last night and what Darwin had said, but she looked so happy I decided it could wait.
Chapter 16
Dr. Liam Pryce was indeed handsome. He’d come to Connecticut for veterinary school but still retained the lilting accent from his home in Jamaica. I’m a sucker for guys with accents, but it was mostly seeing the gentle way he held Rocky that made me melt.
“No chip.” He examined Rocky’s ear. “Some programs will spay or neuter strays, and farmers use them for barn cats to keep down mice. They notch the ear to show they’re in the program. But this guy’s ear is too ragged to have been clipped by a professional. Looks like he was born in the wild. And he’s older than you think. He’s just undersized because he’s malnourished. His muscle development is quite good.” Dr. Pryce slid on tortoiseshell reading glasses, which only highlighted his chiseled features and deep brown eyes.
His eyebrows flew up when I shared how Sprinkles had invited Rocky into the house. “Very unusual. Usually an older cat has problems with a new younger cat.” I resolved to keep an eye on the two new friends, in case Sprinkles decided to revert to her old tricks.
We set up another appointment so Rocky could be neutered and get his vaccinations. I couldn’t wait to return to see Dr. Pryce, a feeling evidently shared by all the pet owners in the standing room only waiting room.
I put Rocky back into Sprinkles’ car carrier. Thank goodness the little cat was curious. I placed a new toy in the carrier and he slunk in, his graceful movement making me think of a ninja. Silent, watchful. Maybe I was projecting. Rocky’s confidence was impressive but getting into a cat carrier was probably a piece of cake compared to what he went through scraping a living in the woods.
As I drove back to the house, I passed Eastern Hospital. I wanted to talk to Angelica but there was no way I was taking Rocky to the hospital with me and leaving him outside in the car on such a hot day.
Willow was sitting on the front porch and jumped to her feet as I parked. “Caroline told me you have a kitten!”
I got out and set the carrier on the porch. “Meet Rocky.” As Willow crouched by the carrier, I told her how I’d found him, omitting the part about him leading me to Mike’s body.
Willow made those sounds people always make when faced with an adorable pet. “Oh! Can I play with him?”
“Sure. I was just dropping him off.”
“I could watch him for you,” Willow said. “I have to do some social-media stuff for the Sunflower Festival, and I can do it on my tablet here.”
“That’s great,” I said. “Thank you. He just got some shots, so I don’t want him to be alone. Plus, I’m not sure how Sprinkles will behave, though her royal highness did invite Rocky into her castle.”
Willow laughed. “Hey, did you bring the banana bread last night?”
I froze. Had Pru or Darwin seen me and Caroline outside their window? “Yes.”
“It was gone in about two seconds.” Willow was so distracted by Rocky, she didn’t pick up on my hesitation. “Mom figured it was you two.”
I breathed a sigh of relief as a delivery truck from Penniman Petals rumbled to a stop in front of us. The delivery man greeted us, checked a clipboard, and set three arrangements on the porch, each bigger than the last.
“They’re gorgeous.” Willow dipped her head to inhale the fragrance of a white rose.
I signed for them and slipped a tip into the deliveryman’s hand. He honked as he drove past Dandy and Nina, who were power walking down the lane.
From a distance, they could’ve been sisters, or mother and daughter. Despite the difference in their ages, the two women had similar tall, slim builds, shoulder-length light-colored hair, and both moved with athletic grace. Even their outfits were similar: skorts, polo shirts, sunglasses, and golf visors. Nina’s shirt had “Sunflower Festival 5K” embroidered on the pocket.
I searched my memory. Nina had been best friends with Brooke Danforth in high school. It must’ve been a comfort to both women to keep their bond after Brooke’s death.
“Good morning, girls.” Dandy smiled, but I felt the same frisson that I remembered from high school whenever the formidable teacher assigned push-ups.
“Hi!” Willow smiled, and I remembered she was homeschooled. She hadn’t ever had a gym class with Drill Sergeant Danforth.
“I saw you jogging, Riley,” Dandy nodded. “Good for you. It’s excellent exercise.”
“I enjoy it.” I remembered it was Dandy who’d encouraged me to join the cross-country team. Even though I’d only lasted two seasons, I realized now that she’d sparked a lifelong love of running in me.
“How’s Caroline?” Nina took off her sunglasses, concern radiating from her hazel eyes.
“She’s doing well, thanks.” Though I thought Caroline was coping as well as anyone could with two tragedies right on top of each other, I didn’t want to talk about it, especially with Willow here.
Nina’s smile was warm. “Kyle and I are always happy to help.”
I wanted to change the subject. I nodded toward Nina’s shirt. “Are you running in the Five K?”
“Yes, and I manage the event with Donna’s help every year.” Donna? It took me a moment to remember Dandy’s first name was Donna. “I’m hoping it will top the fundraising numbers we got for the Memorial Day Half-Marathon.”
“Good luck,” I said.
“Look at Riley’s new cat,” Willow gushed.
The wome
n bent down to peer into the cat carrier and made those same cute kitty noises Willow had. Dandy straightened and her pale blue eyes fell on the flower arrangements. “Oh dear.” She pointed to one with lilies and roses in a white basket. “Lilies are toxic for cats. Those flowers will have to go.”
“I had no idea,” I said. “I’ll put it in the shop.”
“Good.” Dandy’s concerned gaze shifted from the cat to me. “I’m so glad you’re here for Caroline. She’s gone through a lot.”
Nina glanced at her sports watch. “We have to get going. We’re going to get some ice cream before the Garden Club meeting.” They waved and walked off.
“I had no idea those flowers are toxic.” I took the carrier into the house, then jogged into the parlor and dining room, which were full of flowers in vases and baskets. “Sprinkles hasn’t paid them any mind, but this little guy is so curious.” I was relieved to see no lilies in the other vases of flowers.
Willow brought in the other two arrangements, then let Rocky out of the carrier. Sprinkles emerged from the mudroom.
I pulled the quiche Pru had made from the refrigerator. There was enough left for two servings. “Have you had lunch?”
“Yes,” said Willow as she followed Rocky down the hall. “You eat and I’ll work in the parlor.” Sprinkles brought up the rear.
I heated the quiche and gobbled it down, then went into the parlor. Willow sat on the couch working on her tablet, Sprinkles dozing on one side of her and Rocky on the other. I waved and left for the shop, carrying the basket of lilies and roses.