Love Finds You in Sunflower, Kansas

by Pamela Tracy

  He had about fifteen minutes before his receptionist arrived and his day began. He was bone-tired and not looking forward to this particular Monday. He had three distant farms to visit. His focus for today: Holstein dairy cows. He’d be checking pregnancies and any other health issues.

  And the farmers were smart. At every single farm, he’d hear, “Since you’re here, Doc…”

  Usually he loved it. Usually he wasn’t this tired. Usually he wasn’t worried about his father. But now, not one but two females seemed to have practically moved in with him.

  His veterinary clinic had at one time been a modest two-story house. Then, about twenty years ago, a small-animal vet had opened practice in it. Two years ago, he’d retired and sold his practice to Joe. Joe expanded to farm animals and sank his money into more tools of the trade. Instead of investing in another house, he took up residence on the second floor.

  Granted, the top floor was more a glorified attic and smaller than what Joe wanted, but after he’d looked at his student debt, he’d decided that remodeling the upstairs into an apartment made a lot of sense. It put him where he needed to be if an emergency arrived. That and, after eighteen years of being a preacher’s kid and eight years of living in either a noisy dorm or a crowded apartment, he liked being alone.

  Unfortunately, when he’d moved back to Bonner Springs for good two years ago, his father had realized that the house the Kellys had owned for more than a century was too big for one man. He’d started grumbling about selling it. He made sure his grumbling took place whenever Joe was nearby. What Dad really wanted was to give the house to Joe, as soon as Joe acquired a wife and the potential for lots of grandchildren.

  Joe thought he had time. In all honesty, school had been a 24/7 study experience. Back in Bonner Springs, starting a practice had been not only a 24/7 work experience, but also an I’m-getting-even-further-into-debt experience. Adding more bills, a wife, and kids was just too overwhelming a concept for Joe to consider at the moment.

  It looked like Dad was tired of waiting and might seriously be entertaining thoughts of actually selling the house.

  But Joe didn’t have time to worry about either scenario. He’d spent way too much time in melancholy. Instead of using his fifteen minutes before the day started wisely, he’d wasted thirty minutes. And since his receptionist hadn’t called his cell phone to see why he wasn’t prepping for the day, it looked like she was running late, too.

  It was going to be one of those days.

  Well, she’d call when she got in. This wasn’t the first time she’d been late.

  Joe idly rubbed Jacko between the ears. The dog pranced away and went to sniff at the door leading down to the clinic.

  “I’m coming. I know it’s time.” Even the dog was acting strange. Jacko had been acting fickle ever since this morning, cozying up to that crazy female as if all were well with the world.

  * * * * *

  “I’ve already moved my stuff into his sister’s house,” Annie informed Beth. The small bedroom at Margaret’s had flowered wallpaper and a full-sized bed with a pink comforter. At the end of the bed was an eggshell dresser with gold trim. Next to the bed was a small round table with a tatted doily and a lamp.

  Annie already knew the small table would become her somewhat cramped work station. She needed to work on turquoise bracelets, just not at this moment. At this moment, she just wanted to enjoy the room’s ambiance. It smelled of lavender, and more than anything, Annie wanted to kick her shoes off, sink into the bed, fluff the pillow, and read until she fell asleep and had herself a good nap. She mentioned as much to Beth.

  “No,” Beth insisted. “Don’t let yourself get comfortable. You need to insist that Mom pack up and leave with you.”

  “It’s not going to happen anytime soon,” Annie said. “My rental is in the middle of a cornfield. Mom insists that she’s quite fine and keeps reminding me that until she got this ‘job,’ we didn’t seem to need her.”

  “What was that last?” Beth asked.

  Annie had already closed the door to her temporary lodging. Margaret was hard of hearing. Whatever judge show she had on the television could probably be heard by the whole neighborhood. Raising her voice, Annie said, “I said, Mom keeps reminding me that we didn’t need her. Of course, now she’s also reminding me that I need her help. I have to go. We’re heading out to retrieve my rental.”

  “But—”

  Annie didn’t wait for Beth to go on. Beth had a half-dozen orders to give. It wasn’t that Annie minded Beth’s input, but Beth wanted everything done now.

  “I need to go,” Annie finally said. “I promised Mom I’d be back at Max’s as soon as I got situated here.”

  Beth was still talking when Annie hit the OFF button. She was tempted to follow her mom’s example and turn her cell phone off. Sticking it in the side pocket of her purse, she let herself out of Margaret’s front door and met her mom and Max at his car.

  Max drove, Mom was in the passenger seat, and Annie felt like a distressed child sitting all alone and miserable in the backseat while Max talked. He didn’t seem to need many responses. Maybe he’d heard enough back when he was a minister.

  “You’ll have to tour the Moon Marble Company. Joe and his friend Kyle worked there one summer after they turned sixteen. The place has a bunch of antique toys and such. Your mom likes antiques.”

  Annie wanted to ask, “How do you know all this about my mother? You’ve only known her a few days.” But questioning Max while he helped her felt rude. Annie was also pretty sure her mother wouldn’t be pleased by the questions.

  By the time they got to her rental, Annie was pretty sure she’d promised Max that she’d not only go with him to see the National Agricultural Center and Hall of Fame, but also some speedway.

  “You coming back to Max’s?” her mom asked.

  Annie looked at her mother. “You mean Margaret’s?”

  “No, Max and I will probably eat lunch—”

  “And then I volunteer at the museum,” Max added. “You’re welcome to join us and then come look at—”

  “I think I’ll explore the town. I’ll stop by if I can.”

  Once Max had filled the tank of her rental car, he and her mom left. Annie leaned against the car but she didn’t get to relax, because her phone beeped, again. It had been signaling messages since it charged. She’d ignored it in the car, not wanting her Mom and Max to hear the one-sided conversations about them. Annie couldn’t ignore this one. It was work related. Rachel had sent a one-word text message: help.

  “That should be my middle name,” Annie muttered. It took only a few minutes to call OhSoClean and hear Rachel’s breathless story about an employee who’d gotten a little too vigorous while cleaning an antique mirror. She had somehow loosened the mirror from its wall mount, and then—for an hour—had held the mirror in place so there’d be no chance it would hit the ground and crack before the owners got home.

  Owners upset, employee upset, Rachel upset.

  Annie called the home owners. Soon she’d arranged for a handyman to be there later in the afternoon to check that the mirror was securely back in place. Then, she offered a free house-cleaning to make up for the inconvenience. The homeowners were appeased. Finally Annie was able to take a look at the rest of her messages. She’d read some of them in the backseat during the drive but decided not to acknowledge Beth’s questions until she had some answers.

  None were from the employee who’d loosened the mirror. Cathy hadn’t texted or called. She had classes this morning and had prioritized well. Beth, not so much. A dozen texts, all left in the last few hours, proved that she was still agitated by their mother’s actions and threatening to come to Bonner Springs. If Annie were 100 percent sure that Max Kelly was a con man, she’d have welcomed Beth’s presence, but so far all the man had done was be nice, talk about his lost coins, be nice, help carry her belongings to his sister’s house, be nice, drive her out to her rental, be nice, insist she make
herself at home, and invite her to explore the town.

  The most recent text, sent a mere ten minutes before Rachel’s, was a bit different. It simply said the word “sad.”

  Annie hit the number 2 on her phone’s speed dial. Beth answered on the first ring. Annie had been expecting an “About time!” but instead got an “I am so, so sad.”

  “Quit worrying,” Annie advised. “I’m taking care of everything. I’ll have Mom home in a day or two.”

  “I believe you, although I really wish I were there.” The words were Beth through and through, but the tone wasn’t.

  “What’s wrong? Is there something with this detective thing that I don’t know about?”

  “No, although I think the computer guy is losing interest in the business venture. Last time I talked to him, he said if he wasn’t paid more for designing and keeping up the website, and soon, he had something else he’d rather do.”

  Annie started to say “good,” but Beth wasn’t finished. “It’s Charles.”

  Glad that Beth couldn’t see her, Annie made a face. Charles Simon Reinfeld was not her favorite person. He was engaged to Beth but had two mistresses. The first was named Career. The second was Social Ambition. Beth thought she and Charles had a lot in common. Annie and Cathy prayed Beth would open her eyes and run.

  “Is he out of town again?”

  “No, but he’s busy, so busy he thinks we might want to slow down the relationship. You know we’d set the date. I was so excited. I’ve been watching the Janice and Jack Morning Show. Janice is about to get married. This morning, she toured all kind of wedding venues. I took notes. Then, Charles calls and says he doesn’t want to set a date. He isn’t ready. He wants to take things easy. He says maybe it’s too early to set a date.”

  Annie almost snarled, It’s been six years! but Beth was the sister who snarled. Annie was the sister who fixed.

  “He’s an idiot.”

  “No, he’s just really busy and when he gets busy, he tends to try to rearrange things.”

  “You don’t rearrange the person you love.”

  “Ack,” Beth said. “I need to meet with a client in five minutes. I gotta go. Keep me informed.”

  Beth hung up before Annie could call Charles an idiot a second time or find out if he’d asked for his ring back.

  Would Beth have given it back?

  After one quick text to Cathy—who Annie was now starting to believe was the sanest sister—alerting her as to the latest developments, Annie drove to Bonner Springs to explore. She needed time to think and plan. It would be good if she could find out a little more about the Kellys, too.

  An hour later, she knew that within a mile of Max’s house were three antique shops. She passed by them and put them on her If there’s time list. Her explorations took her past Page’s World, a used bookstore, housed in a garage of all things. City Hall reigned in the middle of town.

  Joe Kelly’s veterinarian clinic was at the end of a street that tapered off into miles and miles of trees. It looked like it belonged on an Irish hillside. It had dark brown beams and light brown paint with big inviting windows. It was, quite simply, quaint and inviting. It fit Joe’s scraggly personality.

  But Annie didn’t want to find anything to admire about the man who thought her mother was a crook.

  As vague sunshine glanced off the windshields of parked cars at Bonner Spring’s biggest store, Annie hugged her sweater to her. Compared to Arizona, Kansas was downright chilly. There was only one thing to do: spend money on items she’d have to pay extra for to mail back home.

  It took the purchase of a decent coat, a heavier sweater, two pairs of jeans, and a pair of tennis shoes before Annie felt almost normal again. She headed for the two-story library she’d seen on Netteton and Insley, pushed open the front door, and walked into a wonderland.

  The smell of books greeted her, luring her in, and reminded her that there were still checks and balances in the world. The library had always been a safe haven, especially during the days when being the middle daughter seemed more than she could handle.

  A librarian looked up and smiled. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. You new?”

  “I’m Annie Jamison and I’m visiting—”

  “Oh, you’re Willa’s girl. I’ll bet you’re the one who cleans houses for a living. I wish you lived here. I’d hire you in a red-hot minute. Willa said you make jewelry, too.”

  “That’s me. How do you know my mom?”

  “I attend the same church as Max.” The librarian had a few things to say about the Kelly men, mostly what the Volkswagen makeup saleswoman had said, minus the “Joe didn’t seem interesting in dating my daughter” bit.

  “Right now,” Annie said once the librarian paused, “I’d just like to find out some of your town’s history.”

  A minute later Annie was sitting at a table turning page after page of old newspapers. The same community-based ones she’d found in her mother’s drawer.

  Going through the dusty stack took hours, and even then she didn’t finish, but some of that was due to Rachel’s calls from Casa Grande. The air-conditioning had gone out in the office and three potential clients had called requesting estimates. Rachel hated doing the first home visit and talking fees and contracts.

  “You’re going to have to deal with it,” was the only advice Annie had. After all, Annie was having to deal with a lot worse: a runaway mother who’d chosen a destination three states away and in a town where everyone knew everyone and everything without the assistance of the evening news.

  No wonder their newspaper was so small.

  Small and full of information. Annie found more than twenty articles featuring the Kelly family. They covered everything from Joe—referred to as Dr. Joe—catching the largest bullhead during last year’s annual Fish Fry to Max Kelly donating the statues in front of Bonner Springs’s Museum.

  “He loves that museum,” the librarian said, looking over Annie’s shoulder.

  The Kelly name was on a few other buildings, too. Not too bad for a family of preachers. Why did such a man need to con her mother? It didn’t make sense. What could he be hoping to gain? And, even more worrisome, if it wasn’t a con, what was it?

  * * * * *

  Joe hadn’t been raised on a farm. Oh, he’d lived in a farming community, but as the preacher’s kid, that meant he was the kid who was always thrilled to be riding somebody else’s horse or watching somebody else show their prize pig at the local 4H competitions. His mother was the animal lover in the family. Not only did she think every home needed two cats and a dog, but she also thought every human needed to give a hand to nature. At five years old, Joe knew how to bottle feed baby squirrels who’d lost their mother. He knew to avoid raccoons because of rabies. And he knew that wild animals were only temporary in his home and needed to be released the minute they could survive on their own.

  When he went to earn his veterinarian degree, an impassioned professor convinced Joe to specialize in large food animals as well as pets.

  The first time Joe had to treat a bull, he’d almost regretted his decision not to stand behind the pulpit. Surely standing behind a pulpit was safer than standing beside a bull, looking it in the eye, and saying, “Yes, I’m here to do something you might not like.”

  Bulls have one goal in life, and playing nice with the vet is not it.

  It was almost eight when Joe parked in front of his clinic home, and actually, he was in a pretty good mood. His assumption that he’d be seeing more than Holsteins was correct. He’d examined a few pigs, one sheep, and a bull. Bruno, because he’d been bottle fed, actually had personality. Joe had rubbed its back while examining a few skin problems. The danger, Joe knew, was thinking that if Bruno the Bull had been a cat, he would have rolled over and purred. Docile bulls like Bruno were the most dangerous. Mean bulls were always mean—they let you know you were enemy number one the minute you drove up. Docile bulls gave no warning. Joe could become enemy number one simply becau
se the wind changed.

  The place was quiet, but then, most people knew that Monday Dr. Joe was on the road. He’d only fielded a few calls. Surprisingly, he hadn’t heard from his receptionist.

  His note, with his list of things to do today, was still on the desk. Hmm. Taking out his cell, he called his receptionist and left a message.

  Joe quickly took care of the two cats that were penned downstairs in the clinic. He hoped they found homes soon. Then he headed upstairs and right to the shower.

  After sticking a frozen pizza in the oven, he settled behind his computer. Since it was on the kitchen table, dining, entering notes on the animals he’d cared for that day, and googling went hand in hand.

  He was a bit distracted this evening and twice had to go back and make corrections on medication he’d prescribed for two different cats. He blamed Annie Jamison. She’d been on his mind all day. He’d called his father twice. Once Max had been eating lunch with Willa but not with Annie. Later, Max had been at the museum. He had been full of details about Annie and the drive to fetch her rental. Right now, to his dad’s way of thinking, two Jamison females were better than one.

  It wasn’t hard to find mention of the Jamison girls on the computer. Annie was easy, thanks to her businesses: two to be exact. The website for OhSoClean was informative and easy to navigate. It showed Annie—curvy, smiling, and all business—in the process of cleaning a house. There were testimonials and a rate schedule.

  Hmmm, maybe she made more than he? He liked the way she’d listed price packages and holiday specials. Not that he could offer holiday specials…could he? Neuter your cat and get a free poinsettia. No, that wouldn’t work. Maybe neuter your cat and get a bag of free pine-scented kitty litter.

  Her second website featured jewelry. Well, that made sense. She wore a dozen bracelets if not more, and he’d carried in a heavy bag she claimed had jewelry supplies. He’d not noticed anything else. But here was her site. At the top left was a picture of Annie stringing a necklace. Underneath that was a brief history of how she got her start—she thanked her grandparents and mom—and how long she’d been selling her wares. There were a hundred pieces advertised, most between fifty and a hundred dollars, but a few were as high as five hundred. He could push on the shopping cart icon and purchase icon, and could even save on the item of the day if he wanted.