Читать книгу More to Texas than Cowboys - Roz Fox Denny - Страница 8

GREER’S VISITORS exited her lane, headed toward Homestead and soon disappeared. Rotating her neck a few times to ease a growing tension, Greer glanced back at her ranch and sighed. Outside, the house looked no different, but somehow felt lonelier.

“When’s our furniture going to get here, Mama?” Shelby skipped alongside Greer as they again climbed the steps to the wraparound porch.

“The company estimated late afternoon, honeybun. We have time to get a lot of work done before they show up with our things.”

“Dontcha think this is the perfect spot to hang the porch swing the Sandersons gave us? It’s in the Blazer. We can hang it now, can’t we?”

“That’s a great idea, Shelby. It’ll put our mark on this place and make it feel homey. I’ll fetch the swing. See if you can locate that package of screws Miranda brought. Then I’ll grab the ladder I saw when we toured the bunkhouse.”

The task of hanging the swing proved to be anything but easy. Greer had worked up a sweat by the time she got the last screw into the knotty pine planking someone had installed as a porch ceiling. But, once she’d succeeded in wrestling the slatted swing onto its chain hangers, the effect was wonderfully inviting. She and Shelby ran into the yard to admire their handiwork, all the while grinning at each other.

“I get to try it out first,” Shelby shouted. She charged up the steps, then suddenly stopped short to stare into the distance at the horse and rider, once again visible by the river. “I sure do wish Mr. Kelley would ride up here to see us. That’s a pretty horse he has. Do you think he’d give me a ride?”

“Shelby, you need to call him Father Kelley, not mister.”

“He’s not my father.” The girl pouted a little.

“No. The title Father is like saying Doctor. It shows respect.”

“Does it mean I can’t ask to ride his horse?”

Greer reluctantly looked over at Noah Kelley. He’d dismounted and was letting the animal drink from a shallow spot. “It’s not as if he’s a friend. Even if he rides out our way, I’d rather you didn’t ask him for favors. Anyway, remember the sooner we make progress getting our home livable, the quicker we’ll bring in our horses. How about if I let you decide what room we start cleaning next?”

“Cleaning’s no fun,” Shelby grumbled. “Grandma said before she left that we need to wash all the windows. Especially the ones in the kitchen so that when she brings the curtains tomorrow we can hang them.”

“Are you sure you want to wash windows? I’m going to put white vinegar in the water to cut through the grime built up on the glass. I know you hate the way vinegar smells.”

Shelby wrinkled her nose. Trooper that she was, she reached for the second bucket.

“Let’s do the inside first, Shel. Then I’ll change the water and we can start outside. I’ll tackle the taller windows that require a ladder. You wash whatever you can reach from the porch.”

“Okay.” Shelby ripped open a pack of sponges and plopped a green one in her bucket and a pink one in her mother’s. “Grandma’s nice,” she remarked out of the blue, and followed with a question Greer had been dreading. “I don’t understand why Grandpa couldn’t come with her. Is he mean?”

Greer dropped her wet sponge, then hurriedly bent to retrieve it. “I wouldn’t call him mean. Do you remember Mr. Greenfield the man who rented that cabin next to ours at Whippoorwill Ranch every summer? The artist?”

Shelby nodded. “Yeah, he was real grumpy.”

Using a dry rag, Greer carefully polished the window she’d finished washing. “He did tend to growl, and he wasn’t a very good neighbor. Cal said the man was estranged from his son. They’d argued. Well—” she took a deep breath “—a long time ago, before you were born, my dad got really upset with me. You know how I tell you we have to talk out our differences and not go to bed mad because it only gets harder to make up? My dad and I didn’t talk. We’ve let ten years worth of nights go by without making up. That’s why he didn’t come today. I don’t want you to think the way he acts has anything to do with you, Shel. It doesn’t.”

“If my teacher was around, she would’ve sat you guys down and made you talk. She’d say, get over it! ’Cause that’s what she did when kids argued at recess.”

Smiling, Greer moved to a new window. “That works with kids. Dad and I weren’t kids. Adults can be stubborn and pig-headed a lot longer.”

“I wish one of you would just say you’re sorry, so then maybe I could ask Grandma if I can ride to church on Sunday with her and Grandpa.” Shelby shoved her bucket over and started on the window in the kitchen door.

Greer’s fingers stilled, then tightened on the sponge, and she scrubbed so hard she was in danger of breaking the pane of glass. Explaining this was going to be much more difficult than she’d ever imagined. Yes, Shelby had gone to church with Luke Sanderson, but their views were liberal. St. Mark’s was ultraconservative. Coming here was probably a bad plan. What had she been thinking?

“Shelby, hon, chores go by faster with music. Will you run and get the portable CD player from the Blazer? And bring the CD case from under the front seat.” Greer knew that would redirect her daughter. There were few things Shelby loved as much as listening to music.

Over the next hour or so, they sang along with the CDs and managed to finish the inside windows. Greer filled the buckets with fresh water. She placed Shelby’s under the living room window and carried hers around the corner, calling, “I’ll set up the ladder and do the side windows. Wow, it looks like all but the front one will be too high for you. So, when you finish it, hon, empty your bucket and take a break. You’ve worked hard today. I’m proud of you.”

Reacting to the compliment, Shelby gave her mom a hug before dancing away.

Sparkling windows and a gently swaying swing made a huge difference to the appearance of the house, Greer thought as she opened the ladder and climbed up with the bucket. She’d dried the last pane and had closed the ladder to carry it around front when she heard the clippity-clop of an approaching horse. Afraid she knew who to expect as she rounded the house, Greer saw something she didn’t expect. Her daughter stood on a wobbly porch railing, stretched full length, scrubbing a window too far out of reach.

Greer opened her mouth to shout. She might even have called out to Shelby, but her warning came too late. There was a loud crack as the rail separated from the house. Greer’s yelp of distress mingled with Shelby’s scream of fear as the girl fell to the ground below, tangled in wood spindles and broken boards.

Dropping the ladder, stumbling over it, Greer lost precious seconds in her attempt to reach Shelby. The girl’s sobs sent fear hammering through Greer’s heart. “Honey, lie still. Let me move the boards and see how badly you’re hurt.” She discovered that Shelby had somehow ended up beneath the four-by-four top rail. Greer was in such a state, it took extra moments before she realized a second, larger pair of hands had brushed hers aside and were even now removing the heaviest debris.

“Oh, Father Kelley, it’s you!” Wild-eyed, Greer stared blankly up. Just as fast, she sank to her knees and attempted to drag her sobbing child into her arms.

“Take it easy, Greer. She’s suffered a nasty fracture of her left forearm.”

The minute he made the observation, Greer’s eyes were drawn to a V-shaped indentation five inches above Shelby’s wrist. Merely seeing it sent bile rolling from Greer’s stomach to her throat. She swayed unsteadily. But looking at the terrible break also steadied her cartwheeling emotions. “We need a doctor. I don’t know who’s in town. Is there anyone? I used to see a doctor in Llano. He was old, so I’m sure by now he’s retired or dead. Wait! There’s Hill Country Memorial hospital in Fredericksburg. But it’s quite a drive,” she added worriedly.

Noah ignored her babble, calming Shelby by asking pertinent questions about pain, all the while carefully checking her for neck, back and leg injuries. “Greer,” he said at last, “outside of the arm she mostly has superficial scrapes and bruises. Homestead has a clinic now. It’s staffed by a competent physician’s assistant. Kristin Cantrell—er, that was her name. She recently got married. Dr. Louise Hernandez comes every Wednesday to check on cases.”

“You think I should take Shelby to a P.A.?”

“Yes. Will you see if you can find a magazine? It’s the best I can think of at the moment to manufacture a splint. Meanwhile, I’ll phone the clinic and make sure Kristin’s in. On Friday afternoon if it’s slow, she takes calls from her house.”

Keeping a soothing hand curved over Shelby’s shoulder to ensure she lay still, Noah unclipped his cell phone and punched in a number one-handed.

Glad to have a specific chore, Greer dashed off. If only her moving van had come, she would’ve had magazines readily available. At first she thought finding anything suitable was a lost cause, but then she saw that her mother had left a stack of old newspapers in the box with gloves and paintbrushes. Layering several together, Greer ran back with them as Noah clicked off his phone.

“We’re in luck,” he said, shooting her a confident smile. “I caught Kristin as she was ready to walk out the door. She’ll meet you at the clinic.” Relieving Greer of the papers, he fashioned a splint using several thicknesses. As he peered around for something to secure the splint, Noah noticed that Greer wore laced sneakers. He had on boots and Shelby’s sneakers closed with Velcro. Greer jerked her foot back as he untied and began pulling out her right shoelace.

Once she realized what he intended, she tried to help. Only her hands shook too much to deal effectively with the knot on her left shoe. She gave up and let him do it. Greer leaned over and brushed a kiss on Shelby’s forehead, whispering to her softly.

While Noah worked to stabilize the broken arm, he attempted to explain the clinic’s location to Greer. “You know what?” He broke off, gazing at her with a perplexed frown. “You’re in no condition to drive anywhere.” Tying the second lace, he leaped agilely to his feet. “Just give me a minute to unsaddle Jasper and turn him out in your corral. I’ll carry Shelby to your SUV. You and she can sit in the backseat. I’ll drive you to town.”

Greer started to object. But after an inspection of her hands, she realized how badly she was shaking, and quickly reconsidered. “You can’t put your horse in our corral. Several rail sections are down. I’m pretty sure I have a lead rope under the back seat of the Blazer. That cedar looks sturdy, and there’s plenty of shade. Will he be all right tied on a lead?”

“He’ll be fine.” The words were barely out of Noah’s mouth before he’d pulled off Jasper’s saddle and placed it on the porch behind the swing. He made short work of staking out his pinto, then hurried back to Shelby’s side. “I’ll be as careful as I can moving you to the car, squirt, but I won’t lie—it’ll probably hurt. You go right ahead and cry, if you need to, okay?”

She did, with loud gulping sobs.

Despite her earlier thoughts, Greer was grateful that Noah Kelley had appeared out of nowhere when he had. She dropped her purse twice after belatedly remembering to run in and retrieve it from the kitchen counter where she’d tossed it that morning.

“Are you all right?” Noah murmured, steadying Greer with a hand to her waist as she climbed into the backseat of the Blazer and ended up tripping over a loose, floppy sneaker. “Whoa there.” He scooped up her shoe. Clasping her upper arms, he turned her to face him. “You’re very pale. Are you in danger of fainting?”

“I’m fine. Well, no, I’m not. I’m queasy as all heck.” She put a shaking hand to her head. “Considering Shel’s a tomboy, I’m surprised this is our first incident of its kind. But it is, and it’s unnerving as anything. I promise to get a grip, Father Kelley. And I won’t forget I owe you for all the help you’ve given me today.”

Noah had finally managed to settle her next to Shelby and restore her dangling shoe. He shut her door and slid into the driver’s seat, and for a heartbeat he let his eyes connect with hers in the rearview mirror. He scowled as he shoved the seat back a few notches to accommodate his longer legs. “Just being neighborly,” he said tersely. “No payment required or wanted.”

Backing out with a spinning of wheels, Noah swung from the lane to graveled road with a bump that had Shelby crying out in pain.

“Sorry, peanut.” He was more careful after that to miss chuckholes. Before long, he engaged the injured child in subjects he thought might interest her in order to take her mind off her pain. He discovered that like him, she loved horses and dogs. She nattered on about Miranda’s dog, Dusty. Shelby had owned a horse in Denver, and from what he gathered she’d have another once the corrals were secure. The matter of a dog was obviously a touchier issue between the girl and her mother. Shelby pulled a sad face and announced, “Mama says I’ve gotta wait till next summer to get a dog. I don’t wanna wait that long. I told her I can train him after school, and he can sleep on the floor in my room. He’d be good company for when I come home from school, too. Especially since I don’t have any friends to play with way out here.”

Greer, who was supporting Shelby’s broken arm, reached over with her free hand and lightly pressed two fingers to her daughter’s mouth.

But the girl kept talking. She rattled on about what kind of dogs she liked even after they’d parked and Noah carried her into the clinic. Greer tuned her out, he noticed. Either this was an old discussion, or she was still numb from the fright caused by the accident.

Kristin Gallagher met them at the door and after brief introductions, ushered them straight into a pristine examining room. Her blunt-cut strawberry-blond hair brushed the shoulders of her lab coat as she bent to remove Noah’s splint.

He darted a guilty glance toward Greer. “Sorry about that. I didn’t know she’d cut your laces. Maybe a store in town has spares.”

“Not to worry. I’m sure I have extras in one of my moving boxes. I generally wear boots to work around the ranch, anyway.” Nervous, Greer paced the small room and read the plaques hanging on the walls. According to them, Kristin possessed B.S. degrees in nursing and psych, plus was certified as a physician’s assistant.

The P.A. focused her attention on her patient. “I usually see a lot of injuries like this the day school opens. But that’s been a few weeks. Were you swinging on the monkey bars?” she teased Shelby.

“I was helping Mama wash windows at our new ranch.” Shelby sniffled and wiped her good hand across a runny nose.

Kristin gave her a tissue, but aimed a sharp look at Greer’s bowed shoulders, as if she wondered whether her new patient might be the victim of parental abuse.

Before Greer could speak, Shelby herself disabused Kristin of that thought. “Mama said the only window I was supposed to wash was the one I could reach from standing on the porch. I figured the porch rail was wide enough to hold me. It was old and rickety, I guess.”

Visibly relieved, Kristin handed Greer a clipboard filled with a colorful packet of forms. “Maybe you could complete Shelby’s medical history for me while I set up to X-ray her arm. I gave our receptionist and my assistant the day off.”

Greer took the clipboard. “I was so rattled when Shelby fell. I’m sorry I didn’t think to bring her vaccination record. Really, she’s been remarkably well except for the occasional winter cold that everyone in Denver seems to get.”

“You’re from Denver?” Kristin moved a portable X-ray unit from one side of the examining table to the other.

Noah, who lounged with a shoulder negligently propped against the casing of the open door, hurried to help her. He supplied a missing piece of information. “I happened to be out exercising Jasper and rode past their ranch at the time Shelby fell, so I volunteered to drive them to the clinic. Greer and Shelby are our new neighbors, Kristin. At the Dragging F.”

Greer rolled her eyes. “Ghastly name. I may run a contest and have my first guests rename the ranch.”

“I’m sorry this is your welcome to Homestead,” Kristin said, grimacing. My father-in-law said Jase Farley was the type to get a kick out of a name like the Dragging F. I can’t wait to go home and tell Ryan we now have good neighbors all the way between us and the river.” She sent Noah a wide smile.

That comment caught Greer’s attention. She swung her head between the two. “Oh, then you and your family live in the other ranchette? Ed Tanner said a developer had built two before the bottom fell out of the real estate market here.”

“No. My husband, Ryan Gallagher, manages his dad’s ranch. The Four Aces borders you on the north and east.”

“Oh. Gallagher as in state senator?” Greer’s eyes rose from the page she was filling out. “I, ah, used to live in Homestead. Garrett’s a year younger than me, so I knew him the best of the Gallagher boys. If Trevor hasn’t changed too much, I could probably pick him out of a crowd. Ryan…I’m guessing he’s Garrett and Trevor’s older brother?”

Kristin nodded. “Wow, so you’ve come home, too? Like Ryan and Miranda. And Callie Montgomery, but she’d been gone a long time. You likely haven’t had a chance to eat at her café yet. Best family dining in town.” Kristin removed the film plate. “I need to go develop this. There’s no doubt that her arm’s broken. I have to be sure the bones are aligned and that there’s no restriction of blood.” She smiled down at the supine child. “You lie still as a mouse until I get back. Let your mom finish those forms. Noah, you could take a seat in the waiting room. The new Western Horseman magazine is out there.”

“Thanks, Kristin, but I’ll stay and keep Shelby company. We’re old buddies. We both like horses and dogs. She’ll have a cast, right? Maybe I’ll tell her about the time I broke my foot playing soccer and had to start my school year wearing one.” He pulled up a chair and sat next to the exam table. “Casts aren’t so bad. Everybody gives you sympathy, including teachers. And the kids all want to sign their names on the plaster.”

If the P.A. leveled a questioning glance in Noah’s direction, he was impervious. Shelby, it seemed, didn’t want to talk about casts, but pumped him for information about the care and feeding of dogs. She asked about different breeds, and Noah shared what he knew. She prattled on even after Kristin returned.

“Alignment’s good,” the P.A. said. “But I still have to deaden the arm in order to straighten out the bones. If anyone’s squeamish, you’re excused.”

Greer blanched but set the clipboard aside. Noah saw that pain filled her gold-flecked hazel eyes as she gently combed her fingers through Shelby’s tangled hair. “Shel, I want you to hold my hand tight so Mrs. Gallagher can fix your arm good as new.”

Noah rose to stand opposite her. “If you’re not up to this, just say the word. I’ll be glad to supply the muscle needed to hold her still.”

The eyes Greer raised to meet his were glossy with tears, but he recognized in them a rock-steady determination. Reaching across Shelby’s legs, Noah briefly squeezed Greer’s hand. That move earned him a second inspection from Kristin, who made no remark, however, except to give Shelby permission to go right on talking about dogs. Which, of course, she did. Nonstop.

Later, Greer would think her daughter had brought up every pet a friend had owned, and remarked on every cat or dog she’d seen on the street. When Shelby’s porous pink cast graced her arm from fingertips to just below her elbow, Greer’s ears rang and her nerves were shot. But had Shelby run down? No. She examined the pros and cons of big and little dogs until she fell asleep on the drive home.

Noah let five minutes elapse before posing a worried question to Greer. “You’ve been very glum since we left the clinic. Is something wrong? Are you worried about her arm healing properly? Or is it a concern about not having insurance? I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help overhearing you ask Kristin about a payment plan.”

Greer leaned back and shut her eyes. “It’s all of that and more. I think whoever said you could never go home again was right. I’m beginning to think chucking everything in Colorado to move here was a mistake. The condition of the ranch was bad omen number one. Shelby’s accident is number two. I’m wondering what’ll happen next.”

“Where you went wrong,” he snorted, “is believing there’s such a thing as good and bad omens. Life is all about having faith in a higher power. Place your trust in His hands, Greer.”

“Yeah, right! The last thing I need is a sermon.” Her voice rose and woke Shelby, who started to cry, claiming her arm hurt.

Greer awkwardly gathered the gangly girl into a hug, not a simple matter because they both wore seat belts.

“Mama, will you ask Father Kelley to put in my favorite CD?”

“Shh, honey bunny, don’t you remember I had you bring the CD case into the kitchen? We’ll be home soon. Until our furniture arrives, I’ll make you a bed on the porch swing and you can listen to music there.”

“That’s not going to be very comfortable,” Noah interjected. “How about if we stop at your place and leave a note for your movers on the door with my phone number. You two can spend the afternoon at my house. I’m sure my living room couch is more comfortable than your porch swing. I’ll ride another of my horses back to your ranch and collect Jasper.”

“Thank you, but no,” Greer said primly. “You’ve done quite enough. I wouldn’t presume to take you away from the people in your congregation.”

Noah could hardly miss the brittle edge to her voice. Every so often he slanted a curious glance in the mirror. Each time she pursed her lips and turned aside.

It was clear to Noah when he pulled in and stopped outside her house that Greer couldn’t wait to see the last of him. Playing back the afternoon’s events, he was unable to put a finger on what he might have done wrong. But he was a pretty good reader of body language. Greer wanted to carry Shelby from the Blazer to the porch swing without accepting his help. At nine, the kid wasn’t much shorter than Greer. And she was all arms and legs. Shelby fretted, whined and cried, saying, “Ouch, Mama, I hurt. Please let him carry me. He’s bigger and stronger.”

The tears in Shelby’s eyes moved Greer to give in, albeit reluctantly. She gathered up the blankets and pillows from the car that Shelby had curled up in on their driving trip. Bustling about, doing her level best to ignore Noah, Greer spread pillows and blankets on the swing so he could put Shelby down.

“Do you have a cell phone?”

“Yes,” she said, but didn’t elaborate or offer her number.

He reached for his wallet and took out a business card that listed his numbers at home and at the church office. He passed it to Greer. She stuffed the card in her purse, then abruptly went into the house. The screen door banged shut. She opened it just enough to tell Shelby, “Honey, you need to thank Father Kelley so he can get along home. I’m going to fetch the CD player and CDs.”

Noah returned the wallet to his back pocket. Nothing in his beliefs said he had to hang around where he wasn’t wanted. With a smile for Shelby, he grabbed his saddle from behind the swing where she now sat, her arm propped on a pile of pillows.

“Thanks for everything you did,” she said, tearily. “Mama wouldn’t like if I asked, but…will you come see me again tomorrow, Father Kelley?”

Hearing the woebegone tone of her request, Noah hesitated. “Maybe I’ll ride over if you’ll agree to call me Noah instead of Father Kelley. Tell your mom the same goes for her. Titles are too stuffy. After all, we’re neighbors and I hope we’ll be friends.”

About that time he chanced to see Greer peering out a kitchen window—checking to see if he’d left. Her expression plainly said she wanted him gone before she put in another appearance on the porch. That meant he should backpedal on his promise.

“Actually, I may not be able to come by, Shelby. A man in my position doesn’t have much free time. Tomorrow I need to work on a sermon. Saturday I coach a kids’ basketball team. Sunday I have a full schedule. I know you don’t feel like doing anything right now, but by Monday you’ll be as good as new except for wearing a cast. And like I said, everyone you meet at school will want to sign their name on it. That’s tradition.”

“Will you sign it first?”

“The plaster’s still too soft.” Noah jogged down the steps, stirrups clanging as they slapped his leg. He slung the saddle over Jasper’s back and tightened the cinch. “Kristin said if it wasn’t for the fact that you broke both bones in that arm, she’d have used one of the newfangled inflatable casts. Take it from me, though, they’re not as impressive as the one you got.” Winking, he vaulted into the saddle.

“What’s impres—” Clattering down the gravel path, he didn’t hear her question.

Inside by the open window, Greer heard the entire exchange. Something cramped in her chest as she witnessed the easy, sexy way he had of mounting a horse.

Snatching up the CD player and several of Shelby’s favorite disks, she poked her head out the window. “Father Kelley meant your cast is cool, Shel.”

Drawing back, Greer noticed their moving van slowing to negotiate the turn into their lane. Darn, she could’ve used a few minutes to get more organized.

CANTERING OUT, Noah saw the big van make the sharp turn off the main road. If he was really a nice guy he’d go back and help the two men seated in the cab. Given the late hour, they’d be lucky to have everything unloaded by dark. Greer would be left with the chore of assembling beds and making them up. To say nothing of knocking together something for supper. His stomach growled, reminding him they’d all missed lunch.

He would’ve turned back if Greer Bell had shown the slightest indication that she’d appreciate his help. She hadn’t. In fact she’d been testy almost from the moment they met. Noah had no illusions that if she’d had any other choice, she would’ve sent him packing when he showed up to untangle Shelby from the broken porch rail.

Crossing the point where their two property lines intersected, Noah kicked Jasper into a solid gallop, never once glancing back or letting on that he’d noticed the moving van headed into the Dragging F.

He’d have to quit referring to it as the Dragging F, especially considering the disgust Greer had expressed for the name today. Not that he wasn’t in agreement. If he planned to see her again, which he now doubted, Noah would’ve suggested she name the ranch after the fantastic sunrises that rose daily over the river. As if the woman would stand still for any advice from him.

Again Noah wondered what he’d done to make her angry. Or did she dislike all men? He knew, of course, that some divorced women took back their maiden names. It was less common if that woman had kids, which Greer did. Come to think of it, what had she said earlier at Tanner’s—that Shelby had never met her grandparents?

Robert Bell, Noah could imagine, since he was a crusty old guy. The type who was a law unto himself. One who took his job on the church board seriously—which also gave Noah pause. He’d refrained from telling his father that he was growing tired of the copious complaints from Holden’s friends on the board about his lax style of handling church duties. Noah hadn’t wanted to press a man recovering from a stroke. He knew his father well enough to figure they’d clash on other issues, too. After all, he’d lived in Holden’s house for eighteen years. It was a given that they wouldn’t see eye to eye on Noah’s relaxed methods, his avoidance of Holden’s hellfire-and-brimstone approach.

GREER STEPPED OUT on the porch carrying the things she’d gone in search of. The CD player needed an extension cord so she could plug it into an outlet and through an open window, and she busied herself doing that.

“Mama, Father Kelley said we’re s’posed to call him Noah.”

Flustered, Greer glowered at the fast-disappearing horse and rider. “We can’t. It’s not polite. Why would he say that?”

Shelby looked at her solemnly. “He said ’cause we’re neighbors and he hopes that makes us friends.”

Plugging the player’s cord into the extension, Greer punched the on button. She straightened fast when Missy Elliott’s latest hit tune exploded from the machine. The noise warred with the squeal of the moving van’s brakes until she turned down the volume. “We’ll talk about this later, Shel. I’m going to be very busy for the next couple of hours. If you need anything, yell loudly to get my attention.”

“I need a dog,” she yelled, a cheeky grin spreading over her face. “Did you hear Noah tell me he’s going to get one? He’s driving to the animal shelter next week. Can’t we go with him?”

“Shelby Lynn Bell, no! And don’t be calling Father Kelley by his first name, and I don’t care what he said. Just because chance made us neighbors does not mean we’ll be friends. Remember Mr. Greenfield?” Leaving it at that, Greer hurried down the steps and out to meet the movers. She wasn’t quick enough, however, to miss her daughter’s final retort. The girl said that Noah was nicer, younger and a whole lot cuter than Mr. Greenfield, who looked like a troll.

That observation on Shelby’s part was true, and it was all Greer could do not to laugh. She didn’t, though, because she sensed there were going to be further issues with Noah Kelley. Especially if he got a dog.

Later she’d make time to fortify her position on all fronts. Just now the lead mover had handed her a checklist and insisted she had to point out where she wanted each box and piece of furniture. And, he told her sternly, when they finished her check marks needed to match those on the sheet provided by the movers. It’d been a long day—too long—and now it had begun to seem endless.