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“Thanks for helping with that ... both of you. I guess a compromise did make more sense, especially if it meant saving the peace,” said Sadie.
Wyatt said, “It’s easy enough to mix the style of a service.” He gently asked, “How are you doing?”
Somehow, his gentleness seemed to be the emotional undoing of Sadie. A few tears trickled down her cheeks and she brushed them impatiently away. “I’m fine—ignore the evidence of the tears,” she said dryly. “It’s just that I’m totally exhausted. I haven’t slept the last couple of nights at all. And now I don’t want anything to do with sleeping pills.” She gave a harsh laugh.
Beatrice nodded. “I spoke briefly with Ramsay and he mentioned that your father’s drink had been doctored. I’m so sorry.”
Sadie said, “What’s more, it’s terrible knowing that I’m living in a house with a murderer. That definitely doesn’t help with the insomnia. I’m thinking I know who’s responsible, too.”
Beatrice and Wyatt exchanged worried glances.
Then Sadie waved her hand in the air. “But I don’t have any proof. I won’t destroy this family any more than it already has been with empty allegations and no evidence. I just can’t believe what’s happened. Here I was, at home, trying to mend fences with Father before it was too late. And I’m not really sure that we ever saw things on the same page.”
They heard the sound of decisive footsteps coming from the direction of the kitchen. A smile twisted Sadie’s lips. “I have a feeling that Della has gone far beyond the recommended iced tea. She can’t seem to help herself from entertaining.”
Sadie was right. Della came into the drawing room with a large tray loaded with glasses of iced tea, a plate of cookies, and some cheese and crackers.
“Sorry about the delay,” she said cheerily. “I guess I got carried away.” Della looked around. “Where did everybody go?”
Wyatt said, “We’ve already settled on a service, Della. But your snacks look delicious.”
Della’s eyes widened. “Really? You’ve figured out the hymns and stuff already? Wow. I thought you were going to be here all day.”
Sadie said wryly, “Apparently compromise is the quickest way to resolve disputes. Who knew?”
Della said with a laugh, “Well, I hope you’ll stay for a few minutes and help me eat all this.” She set the tray down on a large ottoman near their chairs and watched as Beatrice and Wyatt each took a small plate and filled it with refreshments.
Sadie seemed irritated with Della and wasn’t making any conversation so Beatrice decided to try and fill the sudden silence. She cleared her throat. “Sadie, Meadow says you make lovely quilts. Are you in the Cut-Ups guild?”
Sadie shook her head. “You know, I’ve never really been part of a guild. I was interested in it before moving away, but then when I left I never joined one. I never stopped quilting, though.” She looked thoughtful. “You know, this would actually be a great time to join up. I need some distraction from what’s going on in my personal life and I could use some fresh ideas and input from other quilters.”
“I hope you’ll consider joining the Village Quilters,” said Beatrice with a smile. “You know how thrilled Meadow would be.”
Wyatt said, “Meadow would be over the moon. And it’s a great group of women—very involved in the community.”
Sadie was looking at Della, though, and Beatrice thought she detected a touch of malice in her gaze. “Della, I think we should both visit the Village Quilters guild.”
“What?” Della looked startled and irritated and Beatrice realized that she’d been miles away in her head and not really listening to Sadie or Beatrice at all.
Sadie raised her voice as if Della was having trouble hearing her. “I said that you and I will go visit the Village Quilters at their next guild meeting, which is ... ?” She looked expectantly at Beatrice.
Beatrice thought for a second. “As a matter of fact, the next guild meeting is tomorrow. I’ve been so busy I don’t think it was even on my radar. Good thing we’re talking about it now. And we’d love to have you both come.”
Della stared at Sadie. “I don’t think I’m ready to be part of a guild.”
“We’re just visiting. I didn’t say that you needed to join. Besides, don’t you want to improve your quilting?” asked Sadie.
There was an almost sarcastic tone to Sadie’s voice. Della definitely seemed to pick up on it and bristled.
“I do want to improve it. But it takes time. I’m still trying to gather together supplies and figure out what kind of beginner’s quilt I should start on,” said Della, sounding defensive.
“All the better to go to a guild meeting. I’m sure the ladies there will have tons of advice and ideas for you,” said Sadie.
“Yes.” Della looked doubtful at this eventuality. She stood up. “Well, I’d better check in with Malcolm. I think he said that we had some errands to run this afternoon. Good to see you Beatrice and Wyatt.”
She left without looking back at Sadie.
Sadie made a face behind her back. “Good riddance.” She glanced over at Wyatt and seemed slightly abashed. “Sorry. I know I was behaving badly. But I just feel like Della is spinning her wheels. I don’t think she’s interested in quilting at all.”
Beatrice frowned. “But she’s spending a lot of time and money in the Patchwork Cottage.”
Sadie shrugged. “I think it’s all for show. Malcolm, believe it or not, is a very old-fashioned guy. And I think Della is fashioning herself to fit his idea of the ideal woman. She’s been as crafty as she possibly can be and that’s in response to Malcolm expressing admiration for women who could sew or crochet or quilt.”
Wyatt frowned and asked in a quiet voice, “So she didn’t knit or do any other sewing before he said that?”
“Oh, I think she did. But I don’t think she did nearly as much of it. Plus, she’s just expanding into quilting to please him. Our mother quilted and he always admired the craft. It’ll serve Della right to go to a guild meeting,” said Sadie. Then she laughed. “I know I must sound awful, but I just get tired of it.”
Beatrice and Wyatt glanced at each other and stood up. Beatrice said, “Well, we’ll look forward to seeing you both at the guild meeting tomorrow. And I think Wyatt and I should be on our way. I know you’ve got tons to do.”
They made their goodbyes, and then Beatrice and Wyatt got back in Wyatt’s car. Beatrice said, “Whew. It’s exhausting dealing with that family. I don’t know how you do it.”
Wyatt laughed. “They’re not that bad. It’s just a stressful time for them and they’re having to deal with family at the same time.”
“I mean, I don’t know how you deal with this all the time. Because you’re always dealing with people in stressful circumstances: a birth, a death, a wedding, an illness. I wish I had half the patience that you do,” said Beatrice.
“I think you’re more patient than you think,” said Wyatt.
Beatrice gave him a rueful look. “And I think you might be looking at me through rose-colored glasses. Although maybe your patience is rubbing off on me a little bit. With any luck, that will continue.”
Wyatt gave her a teasing look. “You think I might strain your ability to be patient?”
“No, but I have the feeling that combining our two households might. Don’t you think it’s going to be tricky?” asked Beatrice.
Wyatt grinned and said lightly, “The fact that we both have small houses and we’re trying to move one household into another? What could be tricky?” He pulled into the parking lot for the trail and picnic area.
“Are you sure that my cottage is slightly roomier than the parsonage? I’ve never particularly thought of it as being roomy before,” said Beatrice.
“I wouldn’t say it was roomy, but I think we’ll have enough room. It will just be cozy. If we find that we don’t have the space for everything, I’m sure there are lots of things that I can give away at the church yard sale,” said Wyatt.
Beatrice felt a little abashed. Wyatt had already gone through his things at least once or twice, winnowing his possessions down to the bare minimum. She cleared her throat. “I have a confession to make.”
“I’m a Presbyterian minister, not a priest,” said Wyatt with a twinkle in his eye.
“At any rate, I have a confession. I know that I’ve still got boxes from my previous move from Atlanta to Dappled Hills. They ... um ... haven’t been unpacked yet and are in my tiny attic.” Beatrice had the grace to blush.
Wyatt said, “Now I’m curious. What’s in the mysterious boxes?”
“Apparently very important things! That I haven’t needed in years. All right, I think I’m inspired. I’m going to take Noo-noo for a quick walk, and then I’m going to start doing some serious cleaning,” said Beatrice.
“Don’t give anything away that you’ll regret later,” said Wyatt, looking concerned.
“Oh, no worries—I won’t. But I have the feeling that the things I’ll be coming across aren’t sentimental items. They might be tools from the old house that I don’t need or old clothes that don’t fit.” She got out of the car and smiled at Wyatt. “I’ll let you know what I uncover.”
Fortunately, it was a day of low-humidity and Wyatt didn’t seem at all uncomfortable in his khakis and button-down during their hike. They passed a beautiful waterfall with cascades that sent a cooling mist their way. Wyatt put their picnic down on a picnic table in a shady spot where they could still see the waterfall—but not so close that the sound of the water drowned out their voices.
After they enjoyed their chicken salad sandwiches, deviled eggs, and cantaloupe, Beatrice said thoughtfully, “I ran into Charlene today.”
Wyatt looked puzzled and Beatrice quickly corrected herself. “I mean Charmaine. I can’t seem to get her name right, which is certainly not helping me become very popular with her. I understand that she does a lot at the church.”
Wyatt nodded, wiping his fingers off carefully with a checkered cotton napkin. “That she does. Sometimes I think that we’d have to have ten volunteers to take Charmaine’s place if she stopped volunteering.”
“Charmaine suggested that I might want to take over some volunteer roles at the church,” said Beatrice with a frown.
Wyatt looked concerned and then Beatrice amended it to, “Well, she didn’t really suggest it. She sort of assumed that I would want to be more actively involved. Charmaine suggested altar guild and the choir.”
She stopped to gauge Wyatt’s response to this.
He was quiet for a moment and then said thoughtfully, “I don’t remember your being very interested in singing at the church before.”
“Heavens, no. My voice would likely make the congregation take flight from the sanctuary,” said Beatrice fervently.
“And I don’t remember your having a lifelong dream to be involved in altar guild or vacation Bible school, or to be a church pianist, organist, or cook,” he said slowly.
“Not in this lifetime, at any rate,” said Beatrice, already feeling relieved. “But I would like to spend more time at church—and a big reason, besides having a greater spiritual connection, would be to spend more time with you. My choice would likely include volunteer work. I like to visit retirement homes or help in the community. It would make me feel as if I’m making more of a contribution.”
Wyatt reached out and held her hand. “I didn’t decide to marry you in order to recruit another volunteer for the church. I want you to do what feels right to you. I think your role, and my role, in our marriage is to provide a loving home for each other.”
For the next few minutes, they embraced with the cascading waterfalls providing a beautiful backdrop.
After the picnic, Wyatt took Beatrice back home. She felt, as usual, relaxed and recharged after spending time with him. Recharged enough to finally tackle the clutter she’d collected in the past decades. For the next couple of hours, Beatrice explored tiny closets, her tiny attic, and tiny cabinets and drawers. She found that she’d managed to squirrel away a large number of unnecessary items. She also found that she’d stirred up a good deal of dust. Beatrice was giving her third tremendous sneeze in a row when there was a light tap at her front door.
Beatrice made a face. She wasn’t exactly looking like she was ready for a visit. She pushed strands of hair out of her eyes. There was dust and streaks of dirt on the front of her button-down shirt and khaki capris. She’d been so inspired to start her project that she’d forgotten to change into older clothes before starting it.
Beatrice peered out of her front window and saw Meadow grinning back at her. She relaxed. Meadow wasn’t the kind of company that one had to dress up for.
But it was important to give even Meadow a place to sit. As Meadow walked in, she gave a low whistle. “Boy, Beatrice! You’ve been doing some work!”
And indeed, just about every available surface was covered with ... stuff. There were old boxes, extra clothes hangers, craft supplies she no longer needed, clothes that didn’t fit or were out of style or had never really been worn, and books she’d inherited from earlier generations that hadn’t been read.
Beatrice smiled at Meadow. “I’m glad that that was your immediate reaction, instead of ‘what a mess!’ Because looking around right now, all I’m really seeing is the mess. The mess on the chairs and tables and the mess on me!”
Meadow shook her head and waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Don’t you know that the only way to really clean is to make everything look worse before it looks better? No, this is awesome! Is it sorted?”
“Sorted? I guess it is, in a way. I tried to keep the trash in that corner over there. Everything else has got to be given away. And, if I wanted to keep something, I just put it back where I found it as I was working through the closets and attic,” said Beatrice.
Meadow nodded, looking impressed. “You’ve gotten a ton done. I’m guessing this is in anticipation of Wyatt moving in?”
“That’s right. He was being very generous about offering to pare down his possessions to move in.” Beatrice laughed. “But I don’t think he has a ton of possessions to begin with! I figured I’d better sort through my own junk to make room for his things. Anyway, I’m sure this isn’t what you came here to talk about.”
Meadow said, “You’re right about that. But there’s nowhere to sit! And this is a lot of stuff to give away by yourself. I’ll give you a hand.”
Beatrice protested, “You don’t have any time to spend working on something like this!”
“On the contrary! This will be the perfect distraction. I’ve been trying to make phone calls for Ash and Piper to compare caterers. I’ve talked to enough people that my head is spinning now. This is a great way to un-spin it,” said Meadow cheerfully. “Why don’t you take on the trash and I’ll load my van with the stuff you want to give away. Then we’ll head to the Goodwill and unload it.”
Beatrice had to admit that it was much easier with someone else helping. The problem with organizing is that by the time you’ve pulled everything out and sorted it, you’re completely exhausted. Then there’s the trash and give away piles to deal with when you have no energy to address it. Meadow was speedy and cheerful and they got everything cleared out in no time.
They were in Meadow’s van on the way to the Goodwill to donate the unwanted items, when Meadow said, “You’re coming to the guild meeting tomorrow, aren’t you? It’s actually at my house this time. I’ve got some new ideas for volunteer projects and we’ll need a quorum to vote on them.”
“I’ll be there,” said Beatrice, gripping the door as Meadow sped down the road. Meadow’s driving, particularly when she was engaged in conversation, was enough to get her heart thumping. “I’ll admit I’d forgotten about it at first, with everything going on. But I realized earlier today that it was tomorrow. And you’ll be proud of me—I actually recruited a couple of people to come.”
Meadow looked surprised, and then Beatrice thought she spotted the merest bit of consternation on her face before she grinned at her. “We’ll have to promote you to membership chairman! Who did you get to visit?”
“I guess technically I only recruited Sadie to visit and then Sadie recruited Della,” said Beatrice. “But they’re both supposed to be coming.”
“Great!” said Meadow. “I’ll give them a call since I’m hosting and give them the scoop. We’ll put out the red carpet for them. And you’ll definitely be there? Despite all the craziness and the events, and all?”
“I’ve got a quilt that I’ve been working on for months now and I really haven’t gotten anywhere with it. Every time I pick it up, it seems like I have to put it down again just a couple of minutes later. I haven’t even had enough time to figure out where I left off,” said Beatrice as Meadow pulled into the Goodwill.
Meadow said in a considering way, “Is it something you were planning to work on at the meeting?”
“Probably not—it’s a machine quilt. I’m just planning on getting inspiration from everybody else’s progress and maybe transfer it to mine when I get home,” said Beatrice wryly.
“That’s just as well. Since we need to vote on the volunteering and all,” said Meadow.
Beatrice made a face. “It’s going to be mainly a business meeting? That’s too bad—I was hoping that I could give Sadie more of an overview of how the Village Quilters really operates.”
“Oh, I’m sure she’ll see how much fun we have. And we’ll be sure to talk about our current projects and all,” said Meadow in a rush. “And don’t you mean Sadie and Della?”
Beatrice said, “I suppose I do, although Sadie seems to think that Della really isn’t all that interested in quilting at all.”
“Not interested in quilting!” said Meadow indignantly. “How on earth could that be? She spends a lot of money over at the Patchwork Cottage. And she’s always talking about quilting whenever I see her.”
Beatrice shrugged as they climbed out of the van and opened the trunk. “Sadie seemed to think Della was putting on some sort of an act for Malcolm’s benefit. She said that Malcolm is a lot more old-fashioned than he looks and he really appreciates all the old crafts and that sort of thing. Sadie made it sound like Della is trying to hook Malcolm.”
Meadow made a considering face. “Well, I suppose he is a big catch, isn’t he? Maybe it’s worth trying to pick up an extra hobby. She’s definitely crafty, I can see that. She’s shown me some of the things that she’s made and I’ve been quite impressed. Della isn’t faking that.”
The next few minutes were spent helping the Goodwill worker unload Meadow’s van of all of Beatrice’s superfluous possessions. Beatrice took her receipt and they got back in the car.
Meadow beamed at her as she started driving off again at her breakneck pace. “Now, don’t you feel better? Getting rid of all that extra stuff? Doesn’t it make you feel freer, somehow?”
Beatrice sighed. “I feel a little conflicted. In some ways, I feel like I’ve done a great job getting rid of things that I probably would never need again. But in some ways, I worry that I’m going to need one of the things that I just gave away—probably immediately.”
Meadow waved her hand in the air. “Then you’ll just buy it—a more recent, probably improved thing.”
“I know you’re right,” said Beatrice. “And yes, in a lot of ways I do feel productive. After all, I got a lot of things accomplished today.”
“Which is part of why I wanted to talk to you,” said Meadow. “Your productivity. Especially when talking to our suspects. How did your time with Wynona go?”
“Wynona asked a lot of questions. Of course, she said that she wasn’t anywhere near the Nelms house when Caspian died,” said Beatrice.
Meadow said, “Who did she think might be responsible for Caspian’s death?”
Beatrice winced as Meadow continued looking at her with a furrowed brow. “Meadow, the road!”
Meadow quickly returned her attention to the road, just in time to swerve around a large branch that had fallen in the middle of the street. “Sorry. So, what did she think?”
Beatrice said, “I don’t really know how she could even hazard a good guess. After all, she wasn’t there. She hadn’t seen the family dynamics at work. And she hasn’t dated Hawkins for a while.”
Meadow said, “That’s true, but she knows the family really well. Of course, Sadie wasn’t around at the time, but Wynona has become good friends with her since she’s moved back home. I think she’d have very good instincts for who could have done such a thing.”
“In that case, her answer was Malcolm,” said Beatrice.
Meadow exclaimed, “Malcolm! Wow. He seems like the best-adjusted one out of the whole bunch. Charming. And cute, too. Not that anyone could pull me away from my wonderful Ramsay, of course.”
“Wynona said that Malcolm seems to be well-adjusted and outgoing, but that he and his father had their disagreements. Wynona said that she had heard Malcolm and Caspian argue a few times,” said Beatrice.
“I can’t imagine what about,” said Meadow. “Malcolm actually has a well-paying job, unlike Hawkins. Surely he didn’t argue with his father over money.”
“Not over money, apparently. Wynona said she heard Malcolm arguing with Caspian over Della. She said that Caspian wasn’t very pleased with Malcolm’s choice in Della,” said Beatrice.
“Caspian wouldn’t know a good candidate for marriage if it hit him in the face!” Meadow waved both hands in the air to punctuate her statement and temporarily drove on the other side of the road before quickly regaining control of the car. “After all, he didn’t exactly make a good match himself, did he? His own wife left him. Or he left her ... whatever. I can’t remember all the details. Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with Wynona or Della.”
Beatrice said, “Wynona is still upset over it, too. She said that she still loves Hawkins, ‘despite all his shortcomings.’ So she knows he’s got issues.”
“But she didn’t think that he could murder Caspian? Even though he clearly needed the money?” asked Meadow, pulling into Beatrice’s driveway.
Beatrice gave a sigh of relief at finally being parked and safe from Meadow’s erratic driving. Meadow was starting to drive more like Miss Sissy every day. “No. And besides, she said that the crime was very distinctive—sort of brazen. She thinks that Malcolm fits the bill a lot more than Hawkins.”
“I can imagine that,” said Meadow. “Hawkins was sort of vague and absentminded when we were dropping off the chicken. He sure didn’t seem like a criminal mastermind. Unless the reason he was acting the way he was is because he was feeling guilty over murdering his father.”
Beatrice said, “Wynona also said that Caspian didn’t like her because he held a grudge against her late-father.”
Meadow snapped her fingers. “That’s right. I’d forgotten about that. Some sort of property dispute. Although it seems kind of silly to hold something like that against Wynona. She was just a kid at the time. Caspian was pretty stubborn, though. Okay, then, so that’s Wynona. Did you talk with anyone else?”
Beatrice saw Noo-noo grinning at her from the front window. She gave a wave to the little dog and then felt a bit foolish. Do dogs understand waves? Beatrice said absently to Meadow, “As a matter of fact, Sadie called me up—sort of out of the blue. She thought that there was going to be something of a family scuffle over the service.”
Meadow gaped at her. “What? A scuffle at the funeral service?”
“No, no. A scuffle while planning the service. And I’m exaggerating—she thought there would be words and she wanted to make sure there was someone there who could help calm everyone down. Sadie had put in some time carefully planning the hymns and the scripture and she didn’t want all of her work to be completely shot down,” said Beatrice. “And Wyatt wasn’t going to be exactly perfect to settle disputes—he was simply there to help coordinate the plans.”
“You were there to say ‘what a lovely suggestion!’ to anything that Sadie came up with,” said Meadow with a grin.
“Something like that. And Sadie was absolutely right. Hawkins became a lot more animated than he was when we were dropping the food off,” said Beatrice.
“He would have to be more animated. Any less animated and he’d have been an inanimate object. A piece of furniture, or something,” said Meadow. “What did he say about Sadie’s suggestions?”
“Oh, he didn’t like them. He thought that their father would have wanted more of a modern service,” said Beatrice.
Meadow snorted. “As if! The man was as traditional as they come.”
“Exactly. It was ridiculous. But then Hawkins kind of admitted that the service was more ‘for the living’ and he would be more comfortable with less of an ‘ashes to ashes and dust to dust’ type of service. Of course, I extolled Sadie’s vision of the funeral, but when it came right down to it, I was determined to get out of that house at some point during the day. We started talking about compromises. That worked better,” said Beatrice.
“Both traditional and modern,” said Meadow, nodding. “And I bet fair-minded Wyatt liked a compromise solution, too. But what else? Did you find out anything else while you were there, or was it all about planning for the funeral?”
“Once everyone had left the room, Sadie did talk for a few minutes. Sadie seemed to know something and kept making references to ‘being in the same house with a murderer’ and that type of thing. But she said she didn’t have any actual proof, so she didn’t want to say whom she suspected,” said Beatrice.
Noo-noo was now prancing in front of the window with little leaps, designed to get Beatrice’s attention. The little dog grinned at them fetchingly through the window.
“Is Noo-noo putting on a show?” asked Meadow with delight.
“I think Noo-noo wants me to come in and feed her,” said Beatrice wryly. “She’s knocking herself out at this point, trying to get my attention. I’d better go.” She hopped out of the car and then turned around and said, “Any news on Maisie yet? Still out roaming the woods somewhere?”
Meadow made a face. “I hope she’s out roaming the woods. I’m a little worried. I hope she hasn’t run into any trouble.”
Beatrice said quickly, “I’ll try to find some time to help Miss Sissy look again later. I also need to follow up on the little dog that’s barking so much in the woods behind me.”
“And we probably should check on June Bug and make sure that she’s handling parenting all right,” said Meadow, snapping her fingers. “I meant to give her a call and with everything going on, I totally forgot about it.”
“We’ve got a full plate, that’s for sure,” said Beatrice. Besides putting the finishing touches on her wedding, of course.
“Okay, see you at the guild meeting tomorrow! Eleven o’clock, my house!” sang out Meadow as she backed quickly out of Beatrice’s driveway.
A few minutes later, there was a tap at the door and Beatrice frowned. Meadow again? She got up and looked out the front window. There she saw Wyatt’s sister, Harper, smiling at her. Beatrice smiled back and reached to open the door. She put a hand to her hair to smooth it down. Harper was very kind and they got along well. It was just that Harper always managed to look immaculately put-together. She wore khaki Capri pants and a black, flowing top that set off her short, blonde bob. Her look was understated elegance. Beatrice’s current look was ‘needs a major overhaul.’
Harper gave her a hug and a rueful smile. “Sorry to just drop by like this. Ordinarily I’d call, but I happened to be driving past while you were on my mind.” Noo-noo made a happy dance around Harper and she reached in her purse and produced a dog treat which he quickly devoured, grinning at Harper the whole time. Harper was nothing if not prepared.
“So good to see you!” said Beatrice. She glanced around. Thank goodness all the clutter had been shipped off to the Goodwill or else there wouldn’t have been a place to sit down. “Won’t you sit down?”
Harper said, “No, I couldn’t do that to you. I’m sure you’ve got a million other things to be doing right now. I just feel terribly that I haven’t been able to even take you out for dinner as your wedding date has gotten closer. Daniel and I meant to do that.” She made a face and laughed. “Actually, I asked Wyatt to try and set something up a couple of weeks ago. He clearly forgot.”
Beatrice smiled at her, but was thinking that she wasn’t sure anything extra could possibly be fit into her schedule before the wedding day. She was having enough trouble even finding the time to spend with her groom. “Don’t feel bad about it—it’s been busy for all of us. I’m sure Wyatt just had so much on his mind that it totally slipped out of it.”
“Oh, he’s absentminded, all right! And he is, even when he’s not about to be married. I have the feeling that the availability for a dinner is pretty much gone, isn’t it?” asked Harper.
“Maybe coffee would be better, now that the wedding planning is in high gear,” said Harper.
“How about coffee now? Here? I’ve got some wonderful Guatemalan coffee you might like. And lots of cream and sugar,” said Beatrice.
“Are you sure you have time? On the spur of the moment?” asked Harper.
“Absolutely. And I could use a jolt of caffeine, considering what I’ve been doing,” said Beatrice. As she made a pot of coffee and poured two cups, she told Harper about Caspian’s death and the circumstances of it.
Harper frowned. “How awful. And how awful for you and Wyatt to have it happen during a pre-wedding event.”
“It was very sad. I’ve been trying to help Ramsay ferret out some information.”
Harper nodded. “I remember that you’re very good at that.”
“On top of it all, I spent early part of the afternoon frantically decluttering. Meadow helped me take a huge pile of things to Goodwill,” said Beatrice.
Harper raised an eyebrow, “I’m assuming the cleanup was because of Wyatt’s impending arrival?”
Beatrice laughed. “That’s right. He’s been so good about paring down his stuff so that we won’t be crowded here. He was talking about getting rid of even more of his things and he’s already given away a lot. I figured the least I could do was to meet him halfway.”
“Well, it can be hard, can’t it? After all, you’ve had a move recently, too. It’s tough to get rid of things that you’ve had a long time,” said Harper, setting down her coffee cup.
“I think I’m just more of a packrat than Wyatt is,” said Beatrice with a sigh.
“Yes, but think of all the things you have to preserve! You were an art museum curator, Beatrice. And you’ve got quite a collection of art yourself.” She paused. “Wyatt might, as well.”
“Wyatt?” Beatrice knit her brows.
Harper said briskly, “Well, if he does, I’ll let him introduce you to it. Now on to my present.” She reached in her stylish black handbag and pulled out a beautifully-wrapped gift and handed it over to Beatrice. “Now, don’t look at me like that. It’s just something small that I thought might come in handy, that’s all.”
Beatrice opened the present and saw some beautifully monogrammed cream-colored stationery with her new initials: BCT.
“It’s lovely, Harper, thanks,” said Beatrice, giving Harper a warm smile. “And you’re right—I already have lots of thank you notes to write.”
Harper gave Noo-noo a quick rub and then stood up. “Good. I hoped you could use it. I’d better head out and leave you to rest for a few minutes. Although I have the feeling that might be easier said than done.” She gave Beatrice a wry look. “You’re not one to easily relax, especially with everything you have going on.”
“That’s true,” said Beatrice, grinning. “Maybe I’ll start on those thank you notes. Thanks for having coffee with me.”
Beatrice did go over to Miss Sissy’s later, to see if she needed some help finding the cat. But Miss Sissy wasn’t there. Beatrice called her, since Miss Sissy was now a flip-phone cell phone user. A very grouchy Miss Sissy answered.
“Miss Sissy, can I meet you somewhere and help look for Maisie?” asked Beatrice politely.
The old woman sounded exasperated. “You’ve looked. Everybody’s looked. Still gone.”
“I know, but sometimes cats hide when they get out in unfamiliar territory. Maybe Maisie can even hear us calling her but isn’t willing to leave her safe spot just yet. Lots of times cats come home all by themselves, even months later,” said Beatrice, trying to put as optimistic a spin as possible on the situation.
Miss Sissy grunted, considering this.
“So why don’t I join you for a little while and look?” asked Beatrice.
“Not now. Georgia is coming to look,” said the old woman brusquely.
Beatrice was about to respond that a whole group of them had searched for Maisie the morning after she got out, but then she thought about it. Miss Sissy was probably right. If Maisie was being skittish, she was likely to be a lot more skittish if there was a group of three or more calling her.
“All right,” said Beatrice. “Well, good luck. When you find her, could you give me a call or send me a text and let me know? I’ve been worried about her. And you.”
Miss Sissy paused and then said in a gruff voice, “Me too. See you later.” And she abruptly hung up.
Beatrice glanced at her watch. It was somehow already five-thirty in the evening. She listened and sure enough, she heard the dog barking frantically. She sighed and pulled on her shoes. Maybe the owners would be home at this time of the day, since they weren’t home when she’d tried before.
She slogged through the woods for a while and then saw the golden retriever-collie mix still contained in the small, fenced back yard. The dog grinned in relief when he saw her, making little happy woofs in a voice that was hoarse from barking.
Beatrice walked around to the front of the house and sighed. She was going to have to try to approach this diplomatically. She imagined the owner might be defensive about neglecting the dog. But the fact was that the owner was neglecting the dog. The poor animal didn’t deserve to be outside day and night. She knocked on the door.
A middle-aged woman, looking a bit suspicious and already defensive, answered the door. “Yes?” she asked sharply.
“Hi,” said Beatrice with a smile. “I’m Beatrice Coleman—a neighbor of yours, actually. I live right through the woods, as a matter of fact.”
The woman didn’t return the smile or acknowledge that she knew if there was a house through the woods or not.
Beatrice took a deep breath and continued. She’d come this far. “I couldn’t help but notice that your dog has been barking. Quite a lot, actually, and for the last couple of weeks.”
The woman frowned at her. “Can’t help that. He likes to bark.”
Beatrice had more of an edge in her voice when she answered, “I can’t imagine that he likes to bark. In fact, he seems positively hoarse from it. He seems to be distressed by the amount of time he’s spending confined, by himself.”
The woman put her hands on her hips and leaned forward, a bit aggressively. “Can’t help that, either. Didn’t want a dog to begin with. My dad had the dog and cancer took him a couple of weeks ago. Figured it’d be better for me to keep him outside than give him to the shelter. Don’t reckon he’d last long there—they ain’t got the room for no more animals, they said. They’d end up just putting him down.”
Beatrice couldn’t argue with that, but she pressed, “Sorry to hear about your father. But you don’t know anyone else who could take the dog? He seems so friendly and it’s really not fair to the animal to keep him in these circumstances.”
Now the woman had a sly look on her face. “Nope. But you sure seem interested in the dog.”
Beatrice said quickly, “Interested in his well-being.”
“More than I am, probably,” said the woman craftily.
“I already have a dog,” said Beatrice, growing alarmed.
“He gets along good with other dogs. Least, that’s what my dad said,” said the woman. She patted her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
“Look, I’m planning a wedding here. Among other things,” said Beatrice in a rush.
“Be a pity if a fine animal like that ends up at the shelter,” said the woman dourly.
Beatrice closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. This was bad timing. She didn’t need a dog. But she seemed to be better-positioned to find a good home for the dog than this woman.
“I’ll take him off your hands,” said Beatrice between gritted teeth.
“I’ll get him on a leash for you,” said the woman with alacrity. She disappeared into the small house, reappearing moments later with the dog. The dog erupted into wiggles when spotting Beatrice. He threw himself on his back for a tummy rub.
Beatrice bent to rub him. As she was standing back up, the woman was already closing the door without as much as a goodbye to the dog.
“Wait a minute!” called Beatrice. “What’s his name?”
“Scooter,” she said briefly. “And he’s had all his shots and is fixed.” With that, she closed the door firmly behind her.
Noo-noo looked skeptically at Scooter as Beatrice walked through the front door of the cottage.
“It’s okay, Noo-noo,” she murmured to him. “This is just temporary.” But as she said it, she crossed her fingers. She knew that most of her friends already had dogs or cats and might not need another pet.
Scooter seemed happy to see the corgi and happily approached Noo-noo with his tail up and wagging. His tongue lolled out and he bowed in front of the little dog to show he was ready to play. Noo-noo joined in and soon the two dogs were chasing each other.
With the dogs getting along well, the rest of the day, Beatrice attempted to work on her quilt in time for the guild meeting the next day. She wanted at least to be able to report some progress on it when everyone else would likely be showing off finished quilts and explaining their new projects or ideas that they had.
Before she knew it, it was time to turn in. Wyatt called her on the phone to say goodnight, which had become their habit. She always felt more relaxed when he called her up and felt like she was putting the day behind her. Beatrice told him about Harper’s visit and then about the cleaning out she’d done earlier.
“By the way, do you know anyone who needs a dog?” she asked wryly.
Wyatt said, “Not offhand—why? Noo-noo isn’t getting on your nerves, is she?” he asked in a teasing voice.
“Oh Noo-noo is perfectly behaved, as usual. But I accidentally adopted that barking dog in the house behind me. Remember my telling you about it?” asked Beatrice.
“This is the same barking dog that’s been keeping you up at night? And waking you up in the morning?” asked Wyatt.
“That’s right. Although he hasn’t made a single peep since he’s been here. I think he was just frantically trying to make human contact. The woman who owned him didn’t want him and she was keeping him outside day and night. Scooter must have been so lonely.”
“The dog’s name is Scooter?” asked Wyatt.
“Yes, and I’m actively searching for a new owner,” said Beatrice with a sigh. “Having another dog is the last thing I need right now.”
“I’ll check around,” said Wyatt.
“I will, too,” said Beatrice. “Thanks Wyatt. Sleep tight.”
That night, she had the first really good night’s sleep for weeks. She’d made a bed for Scooter on some towels near Noo-noo’s bed, but the next morning she found the dog lying quietly next to her bedside, keeping a watchful eye on her as she slept. She had her breakfast, took both dogs for a quick walk, and got ready for the guild meeting. She put on some black cropped pants and a white button-down shirt, smeared on a dab of pink lipstick, made a face at herself in the mirror, and replaced it with red lipstick. She looked too washed out without it.
Noo-noo needed a little more love and reassurance before Beatrice left, so she stooped to rub the corgi’s tummy for a few minutes. Then Noo-noo clambered into her lap to lick her face. Beatrice discovered that in the process, she’d become covered with corgi fur—and that somehow Noo-noo had cleverly managed to get her white fur on Beatrice’s black pants and her sable/red fur on Beatrice’s white top. Scooter stood grinning at them. She glanced at her watch. No time to change now. She brushed herself off as quickly as she could and then hurried out to her car.
Beatrice parked outside the beautiful old barn where Meadow lived, and frowned. She must be even later than she’d thought. Everyone was already here—she must be the last person to arrive, judging from the cars and from Savannah’s and Georgia’s bikes here. Maybe Beatrice had gotten the time wrong. Even Miss Sissy’s dilapidated Lincoln was there. Beatrice wondered if Miss Sissy had found Maisie or if maybe she’d decided to come to the guild meeting to recruit shifts of searchers. She made a mental note to help scour the woods for the missing cat later. Her life seemed to be rapidly taken over by animals recently.
Still brushing off the errant dog fur, Beatrice hurried into Meadow’s house.
“Surprise!” came a crescendo of a yell and Beatrice was greeted with the sight of the entire guild, some of whom hadn’t come to the last couple of meetings, beaming at her.