by Anne Canadeo
Phoebe picked one up and took a big bite. Lightning flashed in the kitchen windows, along with a boom so loud, it sounded like a bomb falling on the house.
The fixture above the table flickered a moment and went out.
“I have my phone right here. I’ll put the flashlight on.” Dana quickly lit the space with the light from her cell phone.
Lucy and Suzanne had their phones handy, too, and did the same.
“I was afraid this would happen. We lose power a lot out here. I meant to take out the flashlights when I heard it was going to rain.” Holly rose from her seat and headed into the mudroom.
Rose was alone in the front of the house with the dogs. Was she scared? Maggie didn’t have time to voice the question.
Rose burst through the swinging door into the kitchen. “Holly? Where are you?”
Dana jumped up and quickly hugged Rose. “It’s all right, honey. We’re right here. The rain will pass in a few minutes.”
Rose looked up, about to speak. Then laid her head on Dana’s shoulder when another rumble and bolt of lightning shook the house.
As the din subsided, Maggie realized she heard another sound. Someone was knocking on the front door. A sharp, brisk knock and then a hard, closed-fist pounding. Someone was intent on being heard above the thunder and the dogs, who had burst into another chorus of barks.
Holly returned from the mudroom with flashlights. Dana turned to her. “Are you expecting anyone?”
“No.” Holly shook her head. “Maybe a driver got stuck on the road and walked up for help?”
Maggie thought that was possible but was still wary of the unexpected visitor. She glanced at Dana, who seemed to share her concern.
Of course, the dogs—by sheer number—would make anyone bearing ill will stop and think. But at the risk of seeming overly cautious, Maggie said, “I’ll go with you, Holly. I’ll hold the flashlight.”
“I’ll go, too.” Lucy rose and quickly followed.
“Why don’t we all go? No sense waiting here in the dark.” Dana slipped her arm around Rose’s shoulder. “Let’s go see who’s there.”
In the cover of darkness, Maggie pulled the largest, fattest needle from her knitting bag. She’d never used a knitting needle as a weapon, but there was a first time for everything, wasn’t there?
You’re letting your imagination run away with you, she told herself as she followed her friends through the pitch-black house.
She could hear but not see the vigilant pack of dogs behind the gate, their loud barks and low growls. A beam of light swept over the pack, and their eyes glowed.
Holly was at the entranceway when the knocking stopped. Had the visitor given up? She pulled the door open as Dana stood nearby with a light.
A tall, gaunt figure filled the space—an old man with a sweatshirt hood pulled over his head, his shoulders hunched and hands hidden deep in his pockets. He looked half drowned from the rain and stared at Holly with a bright, dark gaze and a hungry expression.
Before Holly could speak, a lightning bolt crackled across the sky. The dogs barked even louder, but the stranger didn’t flinch.
A logical voice in Maggie’s head insisted it was just a trick of the light and shadows. Still, his hollow cheeks and long nose made his face look like a floating skull. It was only slightly softened by a long, scraggly gray beard, the type you’d see on a homeless person or an island castaway.
Maggie took a breath and gripped the thick needle in a tight fist. Where had this man come from? Why was he here?
Chapter 2
“Sorry to disturb you, ladies.” His voice was low and gravelly. A smoker, two packs a day, Maggie guessed. His broken, stained teeth supported the theory. “I skidded in a puddle and plowed through the fence on your property. Knocked down a section or two. It’s hard to say in the dark.”
Holly sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. She seemed annoyed about the damage but didn’t appear rattled by the man’s off-putting appearance.
“Thanks for owning up to it. Did you come by just to tell me, or will you cover the damage?”
Maggie had wondered the same thing. She assumed there was property insurance, but by the time a deductible was satisfied, it usually wasn’t worth making a claim.
“I can’t pay you out of pocket, miss. But I can fix it. I’ll come back tomorrow, first thing. I’ll do a good job, too.” He nodded; the tip of his beard briefly brushed his chest. Then he lifted his chin and stared straight at Holly, waiting for a reply.
Dana glanced at Holly, waiting for her answer, as well. Maggie sensed Dana was not in favor of Holly taking up the offer. After all, who was he? Where had he come from? This whole situation could be part of a scam—though Maggie couldn’t figure out what the stranger might have to gain by knocking down a fence and fixing it. Then again, grifters went to elaborate lengths to gain access to a person’s home and their private information.
“Maybe you should take the gentleman’s phone number and think about it, Holly?” Dana suggested.
“Good idea. Can you give me a number, Mr. . . .”
“Thornton. Carl Thornton,” he said, quickly filling in the blank. “Should I talk with your husband or a boyfriend?”
Classic sexist attitude, to assume a man was needed to manage the situation. But Mr. Thornton was clearly from a distant generation. Maggie had to cut him slack on that count. And maybe he knew that he did not cut the most reassuring figure; in fact, he looked like someone a young woman might—and probably should—be wary of.
Holly took out her cell phone. “Type your number in my phone. I’ll let you know if you should come back.”
He did as she asked, and handed the phone back. “I’ll do the job right and for free. You won’t be sorry. Good night, ladies.”
He stepped back into the rainy night and vanished like an apparition.
Holly shut the door, snapped both locks, then turned to face them. “Drivers have hit our fence from time to time, but he’s the first to admit it.”
“It was decent of him. But I have to say, something about the guy gave me the shivers,” Maggie admitted.
Lucy smiled, her gaze drifting down to the knitting needle, which Maggie now tried to hide behind her back. “I noticed you’re packing heat, Mag. Don’t you need a permit to carry that thing?”
“Don’t make fun. Maggie had the right idea,” Suzanne said before Maggie could answer. “That dude has jailbird written all over him.”
“I hate to judge, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to let him come back, Holly.” No matter what a person looked like, Dana always gave a stranger the benefit of the doubt. But Maggie could see her protective feelings had pushed aside her fair-minded standards.
Holly smiled and touched Dana’s arm. “He didn’t scare me, Aunt Dana. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll tell him not to return.”
Dana thanked her with a smile.
Rose had been standing back by the staircase, the canine trio at her side. She walked toward Holly, the dogs softly padding behind her. “Do we know that man?”
“No, Rose. He was driving by and knocked down part of the fence by accident. He came to tell us, that’s all.”
Rose looked away, her expression confused. “Oh . . . I thought we knew him from somewhere.”
“I can’t imagine where, if we do,” Holly replied. “Though I doubt he means any harm.”
Perhaps he was not a scam artist, or a jailbird, Maggie thought. Just a hardworking man trying to do the right thing. Nonetheless, it was wise for Holly to steer clear of him. Especially since she and Rose were alone out here.
As the group stumbled back to the kitchen, the lights suddenly flashed on. Everyone laughed at the sight.
“That’s no fun. I thought we were going to pretend there was a campfire and tell spooky stories,” Suzanne said.
“Maybe next time,” Lucy replied. “I bet you know a lot of them.”
“We’ll have a meeting on the beach one night, when th
e weather gets warm,” Maggie suggested. “We can build a bonfire. Toast marshmallows, tell ghost stories, and knit. How does that sound?”
“Marshmallows and yarn could be a problem,” Phoebe said.
“I think it sounds fun. Can I come?” Maggie met Rose’s eager expression with a smile. She wanted to hug the girl for her sweet, open nature.
“Of course you can. Dogs will be invited, too,” she added.
Back in the warm, well-lit kitchen, they returned to their knitting and Phoebe’s brownies.
“Brownies always calm me down in a thunderstorm,” Suzanne said. “In any weather, to tell the truth.”
“These look yummy. What did you call them, Phoebe?” Lucy asked.
“Blackout Brownies. What else? There’s a secret ingredient. I’m not sure I’m going to tell you.”
“As long as the lights stay while we eat them, I’m not sure I care,” Maggie said.
The lights did stay on as the evening continued, with a few more knitting tips but mostly more conversation. Maggie was glad to get to know Holly and Rose and genuinely sorry when it was time to go.
As they gathered their belongings, Holly said, “Don’t worry about your platters and pans. I’ll drop them off at the shop sometime.” Holly turned to Rose, who stood by her at the door. “Please thank Aunt Dana and her friends.”
“Thank you for coming. I liked knitting, and I’m really glad there are a lot of leftovers,” Rose said in a matter-of-fact tone.
Maggie could not wish for higher compliments. “You’re both very welcome. Come to the shop next Thursday night. I’ll cook something special,” she promised Rose.
“Dogs allowed?” Rose asked.
“Your three musketeers? Absolutely. They’re so well behaved. How can I refuse? I bet they lie down under the table all night and are no trouble at all.”
She also guessed that Rose would enjoy the visit much more with at least one of her comfort dogs at her side.
Lucy gave her a look; Maggie knew what she was thinking, but ignored her. Maggie had often told Lucy she was free to bring her golden retriever, Tink, and her chocolate Lab, Wally, into the shop when she stopped by on their morning walk. But Lucy knew her dogs were not well behaved and could cause plenty of trouble, given the opportunity. Hadn’t Tink once jumped into the window display, chasing down Phoebe’s cat?
Lucy wisely preferred to keep the dogs on the porch, leashes tied to the railing. Maggie appreciated her courtesy and good judgment. Still, she had never banned Tink and Wally from coming in the shop, if customers were not about, and she didn’t think she deserved such a look now that Rose’s dogs were invited to the next meeting.
“I think I’ll invite all the dogs for next week’s meeting,” Maggie said as she slipped on her jacket. “Tink and Wally . . . and Barkly, too,” she added, glancing at Suzanne.
“Barkly is a typical guy. No interest in knitting, except to snack on the yarn. Which always leaves me with a big vet bill.”
With harmony restored and the next meeting planned, Maggie and her friends headed to Suzanne’s SUV. The storm had cleared, revealing a deep blue velvet sky studded with stars and a shiny crescent moon. Maggie looked forward to clear weather the next day and hoped it was warmer, too.
The ride back to the village seemed faster than the ride going, but the group had a lot to discuss, especially about the bearded stranger.
“I’m glad Holly decided not to take the man up on his offer. Chances are he’s perfectly sincere and harmless—” Lucy said, but Phoebe cut in.
“But he could easily be a serial killer.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Lucy countered. “Though there was definitely something off about him.”
“I thought so, too,” Dana admitted. “I know Holly has been feeling financially pinched lately. If she has a problem with the insurance, I’ll pay for the fence. I’ll tell her tomorrow.”
“That’s generous of you,” Maggie said.
“No big deal. She says it’s just the winter. There’s no revenue from the business this time of year. But it might be something more. I worry about them.”
“Of course you do. You care about them very much. And they love you, too,” Maggie added, knowing that was true.
Dana thought about Holly and Rose as often as she did her own children. She had two boys, her oldest son, from her first marriage, and a second son with her husband, Jack, who was an attorney with an office in town. Holly and Rose were surrogate daughters, and Maggie could see Dana enjoyed that aspect of their relationship, too.
Small children, small problem. Big children, big problems. Who had told her that years ago? A more experienced mother, Maggie recalled. She knew now it was true. She had fretted over the most trivial questions when her own daughter was a baby and a toddler, and all through elementary school.
Little had she known what lay ahead, the trials of navigating Julie’s teen years and young adulthood. The challenges were even greater once Julie had graduated college and had begun living her own life, forging new relationships with whoever she pleased and making her own decisions—good, bad, or otherwise.
Maggie knew she’d been greatly blessed as a mother. She and Bill had faced no significant problems with Julie. But she worried now about Dana. Holly and Rose were alone, without family or close friends to advise or help them, except for Dana and Jack. Maggie wondered if she could help in some way.
If she saw a chance to support Dana and help the Pipers, she must try, she decided. And not just by teaching them how to knit, as wonderful a gift as that was.
* * *
As usual, the next morning, Lucy was the first to drop by Maggie’s shop on her daily jaunt to town with her dogs. The panting duo had yanked Lucy down to the harbor and were now pointed back toward the Marshes, a modest neighborhood near the beach, where Lucy and Matt lived. Maggie’s shop on Main Street was the perfect resting point midway on the trek.
Lucy had spent summers in Plum Harbor while growing up, visiting her Aunt Claire, and when her aunt had passed on, she had inherited the cottage where she and Matt now lived. It was a small but charming home, decorated in Lucy’s quirky, unique taste: part IKEA, part thrift shop, and part semi-antique leftovers from Aunt Claire. It was not a large house, but it had adequate room for a baby . . . or two.
When the time came, Maggie reflected as she watched her pal and furry friends make their way down the path. Maggie opened the shop door and found Lucy tying the dogs’ leashes to the porch rail, as she usually did.
“I thought we set new rules last night. Canines welcome, as long as there are no customers around,” Maggie said.
Lucy stood up and smoothed down her jacket. “The dogs think that’s very gracious, and they might come to the meeting next week. But even they can see the wisdom of staying out here, clear of temptation.”
“Smart pups. And they love watching other dogs pass on Main Street, and the squirrels and birds hopping around the garden.”
“And they’re tired enough not to try to chase them.” Lucy set up and filled a portable water bowl and tossed a few biscuits from her pocket, then followed Maggie into the shop.
Maggie felt she’d done the right thing, offering to let Lucy’s dogs come in. But she was relieved that Lucy had left them on the porch. Phoebe had made a lovely display of new stock yesterday, soft spring-colored skeins cascading from one basket to another. A masterpiece, Maggie thought. But it would easily be turned to a shambles by curious sniffing.
As if reading her mind, Lucy said, “I had a thought last night. You’d better make the shop dog proof for next week’s meeting.”
Maggie laughed. “I like the term. As if I’ll be hosting a convention of hyperactive toddlers.”
“Almost.” Lucy sounded serious. “I didn’t know you liked dogs that much. I was surprised that you offered.”
“In the light of day, so am I. Something in the air at the Pipers—dog hair, most likely—carried me away. But it occurred to me that Rose might no
t come here without a comfort dog. Didn’t Dana say she’s rarely without Oreo?”
Lucy looked surprised that Maggie even remembered the dog’s name. “I do remember, now that you mentioned it. But all dogs are sort of therapy dogs, when you think about it. Maybe even all pets.”
She had followed Maggie to the back of the shop and took a seat at the oak worktable. Maggie went into the storeroom, which doubled as a kitchen, and poured two mugs of coffee. She didn’t even ask Lucy if she wanted coffee or how she liked it. She knew the answer to both questions. Lucy took her coffee black, and Maggie fixed her own with a dash of milk.
She carried the mugs back to the table and set Lucy’s down in front of her.
“That smells good. I could use some more caffeine today.” Lucy took a sip. “I’ve been thinking, Maggie. You and Charles should get a dog. You should surprise him with a puppy. A belated retirement present. He’s home all day, all alone, while you’re here, working. He’d love the company. I bet he’d love walking the dog into town, too. It’s perfect exercise.”
Lucy was a prime example. But even though Maggie liked dogs and was even willing to allow dogs into the shop, under certain circumstances, she had no intention of owning one.
“Charles finds plenty to do without a pet. Is that why you stopped this morning? To talk me into adopting one of Rose’s rescues?”
Lucy shrugged. “I was just thinking about it.”
“Obviously,” Maggie replied.
“I don’t think you should dismiss the idea so quickly. I’d be happy to dog-sit when you go on vacation. And when you take a trip on the boat, you can bring the dog with you. They love boats. Did you know that?”
“I’ve noticed.” Maggie had seen plenty of furry sailors, large and small, gazing out from the deck of a boat or even standing out on the bow, fluffy ears and tails flying in the wind. One could even find canine life jackets and other dog boating equipment at the marine supply store. “Can’t say I’ve ever felt the one accessory missing from Charles’s sailboat is a canine passenger. He would like a new ship-to-shore radio. I don’t think he ever mentioned a seaworthy hound.”