“Ada’s got a whole bunch of stuff to grill,” Melinda said. “And I made muffins last night. We definitely won’t starve.”
Then Ed and Mabel arrived. “Ada Schermann Arndt!” Mabel called out as soon as she had the car door open. “It’s been far too long!” Ada hurried across the yard to her old friend.
“Can you tell they grew up only a half a mile apart? You’d think they were kids again.” Ed shook his head, grinning. “They only talk on the phone at least once a week.” Mabel reached in the back seat for a cake safe and Melinda’s mouth watered. She knew what was in it.
“You got it worse than we did,” Ed said as he studied the yard, “but things can be cleaned up. We got a lot of our work out of the way yesterday, two of our kids and their families came over. Angie and Nathan have a full crew helping them, so when Ada called us last night, we figured we’d stop by. I almost hate to ask, but …” he gave Melinda a hopeful look.
“No, sorry,” she sighed. “I wish Hobo was back. He’s the one thing that can’t be replaced. I’m trying to not give up.”
“Dogs are smart.” Ed clapped her on the back. “It’s amazing what they are capable of. Give it a few more days, see what happens.”
“Mabel, I’m so glad you’re here,” Melinda said as they started for the house. “I promise to not ask you to can anything today, at least. The garden’s a wreck. I should’ve tried to set things right out there last night, but by the time I got home ...”
Mabel patted Melinda’s shoulder with the hand that wasn’t toting the coconut cake. “That garden’s not done yet. A few weeks and it’ll be out of control again, you’ll see. We brought some extra cages and stakes, just in case you need them.”
Melinda finally had a chance to help Ada lift her oversized cooler into the back porch. “I can’t wait for you to see the results of our painting project, Ada. I hope you like it. I tried to pick colors to blend with the bird wallpaper in the dining room.”
“That’s no easy task. Well, let’s give it a look.” Ada breezed through the kitchen door, instantly at home again, then gasped and threw up her hands.
“It’s a decorating miracle! Melinda, this looks wonderful.” She hurried through the dining room and into the living room. “I don’t know which I love more, the cream walls in the kitchen or this beautiful light gray in here. You’ve managed to make those crazy bluebirds almost stylish.”
Ada gestured at the wallpaper and sighed. “I don’t know what possessed our mother to put that up, what, forty-some years ago? Wilbur and Horace didn’t have the patience to rip it down, and neither did anyone else. My brothers aren’t much for decorating, but even they would be impressed with what you’ve done in here.”
“How are they doing, Ada?” Melinda was genuinely interested but didn’t want to pry. On one hand, she was living in their house. On the other, she’d only seen Horace once and never met Wilbur.
“Wilbur’s doing better now that Horace is there.” Ada’s sparkling eyes turned tender. “He seems a bit less forgetful, with Horace there to prompt him. Horace is the one person Wilbur consistently knows. Horace says he plans to come home in a few months, but I think he secretly likes the nursing home. All those people to talk to, the good meals. He was sort of isolated out here, alone.”
Ada put an arm around Melinda’s shoulders. “You came along at just the right time. You are just what Horace needed. He’s always so pleased when Kevin tells him how you are doing out here, how you’ve bonded with Hobo.” Her face fell and she turned silent.
Melinda wiped away a stray tear. “I miss him so much. It’s like I’m missing an arm or something. He was just always here, and now …”
“Let’s not lose hope yet,” Ada said quietly. “I truly believe everything happens for a reason, we just don’t always understand it, that’s all.”
Melinda told her about the notes Horace left behind, the scrap of paper taped to the pouch of dog treats in the kitchen cabinet and the letter about the cats she found in the barn.
“Oh, that’s Horace,” Ada said with a laugh, shaking her head. “He’s a man of few words sometimes, especially in a large group of people, but he’s a sharp one. Speaking of those cats, I hope I get to see them today.”
Fourteen people gathered around the picnic table for a round of muffins and coffee while Kevin organized the work crews. Their laughter and enthusiasm were contagious, and Melinda felt energized as she looked around the yard. There was so much to do, but just one day’s work could sweep away most of the damage and restore the acreage’s character and charm.
Kevin backed his pickup over to the fallen-down shed, and his friends and cousins donned heavy work gloves and pitched the worst of the busted boards into the back. The crippled roof was cut into sections and added to the truck’s bed. Any pieces salvageable for another project were stacked in the unused feeding area in the northwest corner of the barn.
“We’ll sort through that iron and stuff after lunch,” Kevin told Melinda. “Maybe Mom will know what some of it is. Anything we don’t need or can’t save, we’ll take to the landfill.”
Mabel herded the chickens into the coop by offering them fresh water and a treat of cracked corn, then slid their hatch closed. Under Roger’s guidance, a group of volunteers ripped away the run’s honeycomb fencing and squared its posts. Additional boards were nailed along the top and near the bottom to further stabilize the frame, and new fence panels were installed.
The barn’s randomly ripped-away shingles would have to wait until another day, but Kevin’s cousin Dave hoped to fill in the bare spots on the chicken coop’s peak and the machine shed’s roof yet that afternoon. Melinda had discovered that morning there was a small crack in the storm window in the farmhouse’s stairwell. That pane and the one for the bathroom would be replaced later, as they had to be measured and ordered.
Several people fanned out across the property, gathering the largest branches and limbs and adding them to the pile Melinda had started next to the garden. Others followed with rakes, lifting away the smallest twigs and the still-green leaves that had been ripped from their tree limbs by the high winds.
Melinda, Diane and Ada tackled the garden, raising the tossed-over tomato cages and straightening the fence panel that was home to the bean vines. The pepper plants’ stakes were twisted and broken, but were soon replaced with the ones shared by Ed and Mabel. The below-ground crops, including the carrots and radishes, were windblown but otherwise unharmed. Every plant was checked, fussed over and watered, and shorn-off vegetation and blown-down sticks were cleaned from among the rows.
“The garden is really starting to take shape,” Diane said as she met Melinda across a row of carrots. “I’ll be sore tonight, but it’ll be worth it.” Melinda didn’t respond and pulled Horace’s cap lower over her face.
“Honey, what’s wrong? Do you need to take a break? You’ve been pushing hard for days, both here and at the store.”
“Hobo would have loved all this.” Melinda wiped her face, leaving a dirty smudge across her cheek. “He’d have loved all the excitement, all the people, the hustle and bustle. If he could get home, wouldn’t he be back by now? It’s been almost two days.”
“Well, look at it this way.” Diane’s expression turned grim. “You haven’t found his body yet. He wasn’t in the ditch, or the culvert, or down by the creek, or out behind the barn. You don’t know for sure that he’s gone for good.”
“True. But I may never know what happened to him. And that’s what I cannot bear.”
Kevin started up the little round grill just before noon. Soon the volunteers were filing through the kitchen to load their plates, then finding a seat at the picnic table or in their own lawn chairs. After the meal there was time for a quick rest in the shade. Sunny and Stormy, much to Melinda’s surprise and delight, made a brief appearance by the garage before ambling off to lounge under the evergreens north of the house. She had no doubt the smell of grilled chicken and beef brought them to the party, ra
ther than an eagerness to mingle.
Both cats refused Ada’s offers of affection but graciously accepted an array of meat scraps. They wouldn’t eat, however, until Ada and everyone else gave them a wide berth.
“I wonder where they came from? They’re such nice kitties,” she said wistfully.
“They aren’t talking, at least not yet.” Kevin elbowed Melinda. “But Melinda’s working on that.”
The cleanup continued through the afternoon, the humidity soaring along with the temperature. Sweat ran down Melinda’s neck as she cleared twigs out of the pumpkin patch, determined to have the garden fully restored. She was just about to call for a shade break of coconut cake and ice cream when her phone vibrated in her pocket. It was Doc.
“Wait a second,” she called to Diane and Ada, who were debating the merits of tomato fertilizers as they filled a wheelbarrow with garden debris.
“Hey Doc, what’s going on? I’m surprised to hear from you. Everything OK?”
“I had to call right away!” Doc was so excited he sounded nearly out of breath. “It’s about Hobo.”
Melinda’s knees buckled and she felt dizzy as she eased herself into the soft garden dirt. She couldn’t speak, only grip the phone tighter.
“He might be alive! Someone called the clinic, it rolled over to my phone. A farmer east of you found a stray dog yesterday. Their daughter was on Facebook a bit ago and saw your photo of Hobo.” Doc was talking so fast now that Melinda’s mind raced to keep up. “They called the dog ‘Hobo’ to see what it would do, and it wagged its tail!”
“Where? I have to get over there!” She motioned to Diane, who jumped over a row of lettuce with hope and excitement on her face. “Go get Kevin. It’s Hobo.” Diane ran across the yard, waving to the crew working by the downed shed.
Melinda was elated, nearly gasping with joy. But there was still a chance it wasn’t Hobo. She had to be sure.
“Doc, where do they live? How ... wait … didn’t he have his collar on? Is he, I mean, is the dog hurt?”
“I don’t know. They didn’t say. But I can tell you where they live.”
Melinda didn’t recognize the name, but the farm was only two miles east of Horace’s. Hobo could have run that far in the past two days, it was certainly possible …
Kevin and Dave sprinted toward the house, Diane right behind. Melinda met them at the back steps.
“Let’s take Dave’s SUV.” Kevin could barely contain his excitement. “If it really is Hobo, we’ll need room to bring him home.”
Melinda rode in the back seat and called out Doc’s directions as they reached each gravel crossroads. Soon they turned up a long lane leading to a large brick farmhouse surrounded by white outbuildings. As Dave parked on the side of the drive, Melinda looked down to see her knuckles were white from gripping the seat cushion. Kevin was nervous, rubbing his palms together. He took a deep breath before they started toward the house. “OK, let’s just see what we can find out. We can’t get our hopes up just yet.”
A middle-aged man came around from the deck on the back of the house, a worn ball cap shading his face from the sun. He extended his hand to Kevin. “I’m John Olson. You must be here about the dog. I hope he’s the one you’re looking for.”
Melinda struggled to speak, her emotions getting the better of her, and could only nod as she scanned the still, drowsy yard for any sign of Hobo.
John smiled kindly at her. “Ma’am, we’ve got him resting back here.” He gestured for them to follow him to an old garage behind the house. “I must tell you, he’s got a few scratches, but we cleaned them up as best we could. Doesn’t look too serious. If he had a collar, he lost it somewhere along the way.”
John reached for the garage’s side door and lowered his voice. “He was so scared yesterday when he turned up here, we set him up in this shed so he couldn’t run before we tried to find his family.”
Before Melinda could adjust her eyes to the cool shade inside, there was a rustle and a high-pitched whimpering. Hobo bounded up from a thick stack of blankets in the corner and ran toward her, wriggling and shaking his head as he picked up her scent. She dropped to the floor and wrapped her arms around him.
“Oh, Hobo, you’re safe!” She began to sob as those desperate, terrifying moments under the bridge rushed back in her mind. “Oh, I missed you, I was so worried! Oh, thank God.” She glanced up and noticed all three men casually rubbing their faces, but she could see their happy tears.
Then Kevin was also on the floor, and Hobo was happily trying to sniff him and kiss Melinda at the same time.
“Where ya been, buddy?” Kevin’s voice cracked. “Melinda looked everywhere for you. I couldn’t sleep, not knowing where you were. Did you outrun the big tornado? Had to get away?”
Melinda let go of Hobo long enough to allow Kevin to put his arms around the dog and rub his dusty fur.
“It’s a mystery,” John said, smiling and shaking his head. “Doc said you live right west of here, about two miles? Hobo made it that far in less than twenty-four hours. Wonder if he came all that way Friday night? Or went partway, slept somewhere and got up yesterday, disoriented, and started out in the wrong direction?”
“When exactly did he show up here?” Dave asked.
“Early afternoon yesterday. Maybe he got hungry and saw our farm, decided to take his chances. I was gone at an auction. Couldn’t believe it when I got home and my wife said there was a stray dog here. Our dog, Boots, had started barking and my wife found Hobo stretched out by the barn, exhausted. She got him some water and food and he seemed grateful, but shaken. Like I said, he’s got some scrapes on his coat but nothing serious. He was muddy, too, even had dry mud caked on his belly, like he’d maybe been in the creek.”
Melinda and Kevin looked at each other.
“The creek,” Melinda nodded as Hobo tried to climb into her lap, still wriggling with excitement. “That’s one of the first places I looked. I thought he might have been down there, but …” she swallowed hard. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done. Please let us pay you something for your trouble, for the food at least.”
“Oh, I can’t take anything.” John waved away her offer. “I’m just glad he had the courage to come into our yard. You can thank Facebook, I guess. My daughter gets the vet clinic’s updates and saw Hobo’s photo.”
“He means so much to all of us,” Kevin said. “He’s my Uncle Horace’s dog. Horace is at the nursing home right now and Melinda’s looking after the acreage. I hadn’t even had the nerve to tell Horace that Hobo was missing.”
“Are you sure we can’t offer you more than our gratitude?” Dave said.
Hobo had calmed down and was burying his nose in Melinda’s shoulder. John watched them for a moment and smiled. “Oh, no, forget about all that. I’d want someone to do the same for Boots, if she ever ran away. It wasn’t anything, really. I’m just glad we could help.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t met you before now.” Melinda got to her feet and extended her hand. “I’ve been out here almost two months but haven’t ventured too far around the neighborhood.”
“Well, it’s good to meet you, regardless of the circumstances.” John gripped her hand firmly. “Don’t be a stranger, now.”
“I sure won’t. And thank you again, you’ve done so much.”
“Well, there’s one thing we didn’t do.” John began to laugh. “My daughter wanted to give Hobo a bath, but I told her he’d been through enough already.”
“I’ll be glad to do it,” Kevin said. “We’re over there today cleaning up. I guess we can add ‘dog bath’ to the list.”
Hobo was a bit uncertain about Dave’s unfamiliar vehicle, but once Melinda got in the backseat, he jumped in and settled his head in her lap with a contented sigh. She worried about Hobo’s dirty paws, but Dave just shook his head.
“Never mind all that. I’m honored to be Hobo’s driver. I’ll need to clean out the truck, anyway.”
She held Hobo
close, burying her face in his fur. The dust in his coat nearly made her cough, but she didn’t care. Dave and Kevin were talking, but she couldn’t focus on what they were saying.
She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, or next week. Her future might be uncertain, but it was also a clean slate. She had her family. And friends, both old and new. She had a job, an interesting one, no matter how unexpected it had been or how temporary it might be. Life was never going to be easy, but her fears had vanished in the few seconds it took Hobo to dash across John Olson’s garage and into her arms.
“I have you,” she whispered to Hobo. “And Stormy and Sunny, and the chickens and the sheep. Even Annie might be glad to see you. I can handle whatever else might happen this summer as long as you are here. What do you think?” Hobo touched his nose to her cheek.
As they turned at the last crossroads and approached the farm, Hobo pushed past Melinda to look out the side window. He began to make excited yips and wriggle, and clods of dirt flew out of his thick tail.
“He knows where he is!” Kevin beamed, watching from the front seat. “He recognizes it. You’re right, buddy, we’re almost there.”
“There’s the welcoming committee,” Dave announced as they drove up the lane. Everyone had gathered under the yard light, shielding their faces with their hands. Many of them were trying to peer into the vehicle, to see if Hobo was inside. Melinda noticed both her dad’s and Mabel’s hands clasped in prayer.
“I’ll get out first and tell them the good news,” Kevin said. “I’ll ask them to stay quiet and stand back, give Hobo some room. He’s really had a hard time.”
Through the windshield, Melinda saw the elation on everyone’s faces as Kevin made his announcement. After the clapping and hugging and high-fives dwindled away, Kevin motioned for Melinda and Dave to bring Hobo out. Dave held the door and, before Melinda could even rise from the seat, Hobo pushed past her and jumped out into the grass, sniffing the air and wagging his tail with pure joy.
Ada disappeared inside and quickly returned with a small dish. Hobo met her halfway, Melinda right behind.
Growing Season Page 23