How to Knit a Love Song

by Rachael Herron

  Abigail gripped the needles tighter than she needed to. “There wasn’t anyone else.”

  “Yes, there was. That dark-haired guy you told me about, that you met at ABA. Remember? Asked for your number and you actually gave it to him.”

  Abigail yanked one of the circular needles too hard, and a dozen stitches slipped off the needle. “Shit.”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I know something happened. Tell me.” Janet leaned forward again. “I can send Tony to San Diego in a heartbeat.”

  “I didn’t want to tell you.”

  “Did he hurt you?” Janet bristled like a threatened cat.

  “I didn’t give him the chance.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  Abigail leaned her head back and stared up at the multiple broad-bladed ceiling fans. They all moved at the same relaxed pace, the opposite of what her mind was doing. She wasn’t going to talk about it to anyone. But Janet was different.

  “He was at ABA because his sister wrote some animal book. I thought that was cool, that he was supporting her like that. He called and asked me out, and I met him at his company’s boat at the marina. It was a perfectly romantic first date.”

  Janet nodded.

  “He got weird at the end of the night. Insisted that he see me the next day. But I had plans and told him no. He didn’t like it.”

  “Creepy. Go on.”

  Abigail finally got the last errant stitch back onto the left needle. She didn’t have to look at her work to knit, but she kept her eyes down as she went on.

  “Turns out he followed me home that night. Kinda went downhill from there.”

  “You should have told me.”

  “I was embarrassed.”

  “Did he try anything?”

  “Only once, but I handled it.” Abigail felt strong as she said it, but her voice wobbled at the end, and she was horrified to feel her eyes filling with tears.

  Janet was up and out of her seat before Abigail knew what was happening. Then she was wrapped in Janet’s perfumed arms. “I’m so sorry.”

  Janet kissed Abigail’s forehead. Other restaurant customers watched in interest. “So it’s over?”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “Did you press charges?”

  “Oh, yeah. He has a warrant out now, and he hasn’t been seen since, not even at his job. They think he fled the state. That and the fact he has no idea where I am make me feel better about it all.”

  Abigail smiled at her. She wouldn’t worry Janet anymore. “I’m safe now. And all that, to say no, I have not found love.”

  “You’ll find it, my darling. Look at me! I’m all wrinkled up and I find it all the time!”

  “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

  Janet laughed. “Oh, I’m glad you’re here! Was it hard to leave?”

  “No, you know I hated that apartment. So close to the freeway, so loud. I got rid of everything, put it all up on Craigslist. Had a virtual garage sale. I only brought what I love. Didn’t take up much space, actually. I feel freer than I have in a long time.”

  “I knew Eliza’s old place was out here somewhere, but I never thought that anything would happen like this. How are you doing? Are you overwhelmed? What did she leave you, exactly?”

  “Her cottage. And the land it’s on. And everything in it.”

  “Wow! I knew she loved you, but damn. Is her nephew that gorgeous boy, the tall one who looks like every girl’s fantasy walking?”

  “Do you know him? Cade?”

  “Cade, that’s it. I know of him. A friend of mine dated him last year, until he broke it off.”

  “Really?”

  “She was crushed. I remember hating him and then she pointed him out at a restaurant—he was there with another woman, and they’d been broken up for a month by this point, I thought he was a slice of heaven. Worth a broken heart, that one.”

  “How long did they date?” Abigail felt a keen interest that she decided not to examine.

  “I think only a month or two.” Janet leaned forward across the table. “She said the sex was amazing. But that doesn’t surprise me. He looks like sex on a stick. Or on a horse. Or in the sticks. Whatever quaint phrase they use out here.”

  “These aren’t really the sticks anymore, I don’t think.”

  “They’ll always be the sticks, darling. But they’re my sticks. So anyway, the sex was amazing, and she said she was tres smitten, and she dreamed of a ring and wearing bandanas at the wedding. Then he pulled the hay out from under her, and she was left crying on my doorstep. Isn’t that just the way?”

  “I can see it. He’s seems, rather…callous.”

  “Mmm. Do I sense a note of interest, my little one?”

  “Absolutely not. The opposite, in fact. I don’t like him at all. But I have to live with him for a while.”

  Janet waved away a water refill and leaned in again. “This just got good. What do you mean?”

  “I got the cottage, but it has no water.”

  “How awful.”

  “And it might have rats.”

  Janet went pale. “Darlin,…”

  “It for damn sure has bats.”

  “Abigail! You can’t live there.”

  “You’re right, I can’t live there until it’s cleaned out and fixed up, and then it’ll be just fine. Wonderful, even. But I have no idea how long that’s going to take. In the meantime, I’m living in Cade’s house.”

  “Tremendous.” Janet clapped her hands. “Fantastic!”

  “Do you think so?” Abigail paused and knit a few stitches. “I mean, Cade, he may be the local heartbreaker and all, but…”

  She didn’t need to put it into words. Janet said, her voice soft, “Cade is just a good old local boy who looks good in his jeans. He may break hearts, but he’d never hurt anyone. I’ve dated three of the local deputies: I’d know if he was a bad guy. And he’s Eliza’s nephew.”

  Abigail nodded. “That’s what I thought. All right, change of subject. I’ve found something today, in the cottage.”

  “Tell. Ropes and chains?”

  “It’s a gigantic mess, totally crammed full of stuff that looked like trash. Boxes everywhere. But the boxes are full of fiber and spinning wheels. And who knows what all else is in there?”

  Janet raised her eyebrows.

  “Think about it!” said Abigail. “Eliza Carpenter’s treasure trove. Do you know how many people in this country would freak out if they found out they could come to her home and use her things, take classes, perhaps?”

  “They are passionate about her, yes.”

  “She’s a religion. I think I could use this to jump-start my little workshop, my class space. I think that’s what she meant me to do.”

  “So it’s all yours?”

  “Yes. I’m just not sure how Cade’ll feel about having something like that on, or near, his land.”

  “Look at you, love. He’ll give you anything you want.”

  “I don’t think so. He thought he was going to get everything.”

  “He shouldn’t have assumed.”

  “I would have, too. I feel kind of sorry for him.”

  Janet reached over and patted Abigail’s cheek. “That’s why I’m the businesswoman, darling, and you’re the writer. Now, tell me when I can come see this little ranch.”

  Chapter Ten

  While you cast on all those stitches for the body, have someone tell you a lively story. Even better, make them count the stitches for you.

  —E.C.

  Abigail spent the next week settling into a routine. The house division was working: she rarely saw Cade, and if she did, it was only from a distance. He didn’t seem to notice her at all. He didn’t even glance in her direction if he passed through the kitchen while she was at the sink. He went to bed much earlier than she did, and she was surprised, when she sat in the parlor to read or knit, how companionable the house felt, knowing h
e was asleep upstairs. It felt more like home than any place she’d been since her mother died. And even if Cade couldn’t stand her, his cat, Duncan, seemed to like her company, resting on her knee at night, purring up a storm.

  She was taking her time going through the cottage. It was going to take a lot of work, but it wasn’t as hopeless as she’d thought, now that she knew the bags and boxes weren’t trash. A good cleaning was going a long way toward renovation. True, she’d need a new roof before winter settled in, and a couple of windows needed fixing, but the toilet was going to be fine if it was reseated, and the kitchen seemed to be okay.

  She’d had an exterminator in about the bat. He fixed the hole in the wall where it had come in and promised her that he had taken care of the problem. She prayed he was right.

  Abigail drove into Cypress Hollow to talk to a plumber about the toilet. She made an appointment with him, and he welcomed her with a warmth that seemed genuine. His wife invited her to a book group the library was starting. It felt good, this beginning.

  Driving back to the house, Abigail passed a sign that said, “Alpacas. Going out of Business, All Must Go. Sweet Animals.”

  Alpacas.

  The best, finest, softest fiber, one of her favorites to work with. Maybe they were selling fleeces.

  She pulled over and drove through the open gate in the direction the arrow on the sign pointed.

  An older man wearing overalls and a railroad cap waved at her.

  “Want a couple of alpacas?”

  She shook her head and smiled. “Only interested in the fiber. Have you sheared lately?”

  “Eh, never got into all that, just sheared and threw it out. Supposed to make money on the babies, but it wasn’t the money she thought she’d get.” Abigail tried not to look horrified. He threw the fiber out?

  He went on. “These were my wife’s animals. She’s dead now, and they gotta go. You can have ’em cheap.”

  “I have no place to put them.”

  The man looked at her closely, then looked out at her truck. “Ain’t you the gal that moved in with Cade MacArthur up to Eliza’s old spread?”

  “Wow. The jungle drums are beating. Yes, I am.”

  “Cade has room. He told me once he loved the ’pacas, and he wanted a couple. He has that extra room off the back of his little second barn, out at the cottage, that would be perfect for them.”

  He looked at her closely. “Make a nice gift for him, probably.”

  Abigail narrowed her eyes. Was she being taken? She did have that little shed thing out behind the cottage, but she hadn’t really looked at it yet.

  “If you take the male and female, I’ll throw in the dog.”

  “The dog?” Abigail had wanted a dog for a while now, but was now the right time?

  “That one over there.” He pointed over to the porch. “I’m gonna have her put down if no one wants her, and no one does. Border collie, y’know. Best dog made.”

  “If she’s the best, why don’t you keep her?”

  “Wife just died.” His voice broke. “I’m outta here. Going to sail to Hawaii. Don’t need a dog. But you’ll need a dog with the alpacas.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, maybe not. They’re pretty good and quiet. I’ll just have the dog put down, then.”

  Abigail felt her control of the conversation spiraling. She sighed. “Let me see the dog.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Don’t take your knitting so seriously. It’s supposed to be fun, remember?

  —E.C.

  Cade heard Abigail calling his name, and it sounded frantic. Was she hurt? He left the barn at a run, down toward the house.

  “Cade! Help!”

  Cade ran faster. Had she fallen? Did she have a medical condition he didn’t know about?

  Where the hell was she?

  He rounded the corner of the house, and saw her, over by her truck, parked near the cottage. An old trailer was pulling out of the driveway—was that Mort’s truck dragging it?

  He kept running, but slowed a little when he noticed that she appeared to be smiling. Grinning, actually.

  And what was next to her?

  Good God. She hadn’t.

  “Alpacas! Look!”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “No! They’re the cutest things ever!”

  “I thought you were hurt.”

  She had the good grace to look chagrined. “I’m sorry. I just thought the boy here was getting away, but Mort put him on a tighter lead and tied him to the fence.”

  “You got alpacas.”

  “You don’t like them?” Her smile faded.

  “I don’t know much about them. I know enough to know I didn’t want any on the property.”

  “But I’ll keep them in my little barn. You won’t even know they’re here.”

  “What do you know about livestock?”

  “Not very much. But Mort told me what I had to feed them, and he gave me some stuff to start off with, and he said they were gentle. And then I can shear my own alpacas.”

  “And do what?”

  “Spin the fiber into yarn! It’s the softest stuff. I’ll make you socks.”

  He snorted before he could help himself. “Alpaca socks? I can’t even imagine.”

  He heard something from her truck and turned to look at what was causing the bumping noise.

  “You got a dog.” She didn’t do anything halfway, did she?

  “Not just any dog. She’s a border collie.”

  “And let me guess, you don’t know much about border collies.”

  “You do? Can you tell me? She’s the sweetest thing ever.”

  “And probably the smartest thing ever, too. I’ve got two of them that live in the barn and work the sheep. They’re smart enough that I wouldn’t leave out a can opener near a can of tuna.”

  “Mort said she was smart!”

  “How did he talk you into all this?”

  Abigail smiled and reached to pet the head of the female alpaca, but the animal shied away and moved away as far as she could on the leash.

  “His wife died,” she started.

  “Three years ago,” said Cade.

  “What? He made it sound like it was yesterday. But he’s sailing to Hawaii soon, so he had to get rid of the dog.”

  “He’s no sailor. He just bought a new tractor. He’s not going anywhere soon. And he’s been trying to get rid of those beasts since Mary passed.”

  “He told me you wanted alpacas. That you would think they were nice.”

  He couldn’t help laughing now. It was too funny: her earnest, excited face, Mort taking her for all she was worth. “A nice gift? I’ve been giving him a rash of shit ever since he let his wife buy them. They’re always getting loose and running down the highway. She said she was going to raise and sell them, but he never saw a dime. And where are you going to keep the babies? You can’t fit more than two out in the shed.”

  She glared at him. “I don’t need baby alpacas, not yet, anyway. Two is enough to start with. Their fiber will keep me happy and busy. They’re sweet and wonderful and I love them.”

  He was surprised she didn’t stamp her foot after saying this.

  “They have names?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wanna tell me?”

  “You’ll laugh at me.”

  “Would I do that?”

  “Yes, but I’ll tell you anyway. Merino is the boy here, the darker one. Tussah is the pale girl. She’s the sweet one, but they’re both wonderful and I love them.”

  “Merino, like the sheep? And Tussah I’m guessing is something in your fiber world.”

  “A kind of silkworm.”

  “You named alpacas after a sheep and a worm?”

  “You said you wouldn’t laugh.” She turned her back on him and moved to start untying the male from where he was attached to the fence.

  “Where are you going to put him?”

  “I told you, in my shed.”

 
; “You already set it up?”

  “Mort said that they only need a little space and an overhang to get out of any weather that might come along.”

  “Have you checked that fence back there? I haven’t used it in a long time.”

  She looked at the ground, her cheeks flushing. He couldn’t tell if it was in anger or not, and he didn’t like it. He was used to being able to read women at a glance. They didn’t usually challenge him. This one, she was a challenge.

  None that he couldn’t handle though.

  “I looked,” she said. “I can’t see any holes in the fence.”

  “Want me to look for you?”

  Her eyebrows drew together and the smallest crease appeared between her eyes. It satisfied him. He’d gotten under her skin. Finally.

  She didn’t want to say yes. He knew it.

  “Okay, I guess. If you want. But I think it’s fine.”

  Cade smiled and went around the back of the small barn, leaving her to deal with the alpacas and the dog, which was now barking its head off inside the cab of the truck. He could hear his dogs barking in the barn in agreement.

  God, this shed. When Eliza had lived here, she’d used it for chickens, although when Cade had taken over, he’d built a real coop farther down the hill. He didn’t like to hear and smell chickens early in the morning—he preferred a little distance between him and the roosters crowing.

  Not that they ever got up before him, come to think of it.

  It was an adequate shed, though. Even though he’d been giving her crap about it, it was a fine little building to shelter two alpacas. Any more than three and they’d be pushing it, and he figured she’d have three before long, since there really wasn’t a way to separate them in this tiny shed.

  The fence line did look all right, he thought, testing several places with his hand, and then his boot. That was Tom’s doing, not his. Cade stayed active and on top of all the areas they were working, but he tended to overlook places like this, places not in use.

  Vanity pets. On his ranch. He supposed he was going to have to accept it, at least until she gave up and left, which hopefully would be sooner rather than later, but alpacas! On his land!