Minnie was sitting on her front porch behind her spinning wheel. A thick clump of ivory wool stretched up from a basket. Her hand guided out a much thinner strand of the wool as it left the wheel. She stopped the wheel and waved. Her smile didn't indicate any kind of grief. I wondered briefly whether Donna would have been kinder to people if she realized how few tears would be shed upon her demise.
It took Minnie some effort to stand up from the stool at the wheel. "I've made a honey and almond cake. You must try a piece."
I was full from lunch but then who was I to turn down a piece of honey and almond cake. "That's kind of you. I'd love to try a piece." Not only was Minnie right back to her hobbies and work, but she was baking cakes. Had she finally found peace and quiet in her life?
"I've got a pot of dye cooking on the stove. It's far too smelly in there to enjoy the cake," Minnie said as I reached the porch. "I'll bring the cake outside. There's a table and chairs under the tree." She pointed out a sprawling maple that was bursting with bright oranges and reds. The table and chairs were littered with fallen leaves. Several chickens scratched around in the leafy debris under the table. It looked like an ideal place to have a slice of honey cake.
"Do you need any help?" I asked.
"No, I've got the tray ready." Her complexion looked a little healthier today, a little more pink. Could have been from the sun or from her newfound happiness. Either way, her sister's murder hadn't worsened her heart condition.
I crossed the yard to the table and spotted the fence posts. They were sitting outside the storage shed in a neat pile. Minnie had texted that she would give us a discount because we'd already bought the pipe corrals. This time she didn't have to worry about her sister showing up to keep an eye on her business dealings. Minnie had seemed only slightly disgruntled that Donna had arrived to make sure Minnie didn't sell the panels too cheaply. I would have been far angrier if my sister had humiliated me like that, but I'd concluded that Minnie was used to that sort of behavior from Donna.
A few minutes later, Minnie came out with a tray. She carried it slowly across the yard, insisting the whole way that she was fine and could manage the tray. I held my breath watching her shuffle along. I would have hated to have my piece of honey cake be the reason Minnie collapsed from heart failure. I sucked that breath right back in when I noticed that Minnie's fingers were blue. She set the tray down and must have caught my alarm.
"Don't worry. That blue has nothing to do with my heart. I'm making blue dye for the wool."
I sighed. "You had me worried. I do know how to make blue dye—red cabbage and baking soda," I said confidently.
"Very good. You've been learning about wool." She handed me a plate with a slice of dense yellow cake that was topped with an almond glaze. "An old family recipe."
"Looks delicious."
Minnie had two glasses of ice water to go with the cake. "I was out of tea," she explained. "Donna used to do all the shopping. She knew the best places to go." There was a fleeting moment of sadness in her expression but she quickly rallied. "Hope you like the cake."
I ate a bite and nodded with approval. "Hmm, the honey isn't overpowering and the cake is so moist. The almond topping is like the crown of the dish."
Minnie laughed at my description. "Glad you like it. Donna wouldn't let me have goodies like this. She always took good care of me. I should have listened to her more." Minnie's mouth crumpled. "I'm ashamed to admit that I was a heavy smoker. Donna kept begging me to quit, but it took the doctor telling me my heart was failing to finally listen. Now, of course, it's too late."
"I'm so sorry," I said. "If you don't mind me asking—which of you was older?"
"You couldn't tell by looking but Donna was two years older. She took such good care of herself. I was the one with all the terrible habits. I assumed it would be me first." She clucked her tongue. "Odd how things turn out." Minnie looked out at her farm. It was a well-cared for homestead, one that showed pride of ownership. The sheep wandered lazily in the pastures east of the barn. "I'm going to be selling off my stock if you and Jackson are interested. I won't be able to take care of them much longer."
"That's a shame. My sister knows a lot of farmers in the area. I'll tell her to put word out."
"That would be much appreciated." Minnie looked far sadder about the eventual loss of her flock than the recent loss of her sister.
"Have you and Donna lived here long?" I asked.
"All our lives. It belonged to our parents. Donna went off to culinary school, and I stayed behind and ran the place. When she got a job at a local restaurant, she moved back in." She didn't say it with great joy. "I was engaged to a wonderful man at the time." Minnie coasted off for a minute. She wore the same starry-eyed look I spotted on Edward whenever he drifted off to the past.
"What happened? If you don't mind me asking," I added.
My question pulled her reluctantly back to the present. "Vernon and Donna didn't get along. It just wasn't going to work. But Donna insisted, and rightly so, that the farm was half hers. That meant I would have to leave with Vernon. I wasn't willing to leave this place. Eventually, Vern met someone else and moved away. Never saw him again."
"I'm sorry. That must have been hard."
Minnie forced a smile. "We all have our heartbreaks. I made the right choice. I love this farm. Those sheep are my babies. I plan to be knitting right up until they put me in the ground."
Her droll comment sparked a new question.
"Will there be a memorial or funeral for Donna? I could get the information to the Thornbridge Hotel." A burst of wind kicked hundreds of leaves off their branches. Minnie anticipated the avalanche of fall foliage and tossed a napkin over the cake.
"No, no dear. Donna wouldn't have wanted that. She'll be cremated. To be honest, I wouldn't even know who to invite to her funeral. You see, my sister had a way of rubbing people the wrong way. I'm sure you noticed that the first time you met her, when you and Jackson came out to buy the pipe corrals."
I rolled my lips in but stayed silent on the matter.
Minnie placed her hand on my arm. "It's all right, dear. She's not here. You can speak freely."
I smiled briefly. "She was somewhat abrasive." I realized this was my opportunity to further my investigation. "Minnie, can you think of anyone who might have wanted to kill Donna?"
Minnie looked distraught about the question. I felt bad for asking it. "Donna angered a lot of people in her life, but I don't think anyone killed her," she said it with confidence.
"No?"
Several of the chickens stood at Minnie's feet. Pecking lightly at her leg. She handed them each a crumb of cake. They were pleased with the treat. "Donna told me that freezer was broken and that it was a tragic accident waiting to happen. I'm sure she didn't expect to be the victim. My sister worked too long of hours. I'm sure she was exhausted and forgot about the broken switch. It was all just a horrible accident. At least she died doing what she loved. She wasn't happy unless she was wearing her apron and standing in a kitchen."
Another gusty wind circled us. "Oh my, looks like we're going to get pummeled with a wind storm if we don't hurry up. We get them all the time out here."
"Let me help." I stood to gather up the tray.
"Don't worry about that. I'll get it later. Go get your truck and pull it up to the shed. I've got the posts sitting outside in a pile."
Minnie had just reached the shed as I pulled the truck through, navigating around chickens and an orange tabby cat. I got out of the truck.
"I'll get these," I said.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
"Yes, half the work is done. I thought I was going to have to get them out of the shed." I looked down at the pile, then turned to Minnie. "How did you get them out? Do you have a hired hand?"
"Used to. We went through at least half a dozen hired hands, but Donna chased them all off. She'd argue with them, telling them they weren't doing things right or that they were asking too much money for the terrible work they were doing. After the last one, about three years ago, I decided not to bother anymore. I knew she'd just chase them off again. I decided to do all the work by myself. I've always been strong. At least I was up to a year ago." She tapped a post with the toe of her well-worn work boot. "Moved these one at a time. These old posts are pretty light compared to a sheep. Try wrestling fifty of them to the ground to be sheared. Used to love those days. They were tiring but you felt so alive, shearing wool, the animals talking so much you could still hear them in your sleep, hands rough and calloused from those darn shears. Yep, I'm going to miss this place."
"Now that your sister's gone," I said, "maybe you could hire a hand to help."
Minnie was shaking her head before I finished. "Doctor said I've got less than a year. I need to sell the animals and start thinking about a restful end."
"I'm so sorry, Minnie."
"No worries. I've come to accept it. Now, are you sure you don't need some help loading these up?"
"Like you said, they're light. And I've got a burst of energy from your delicious cake." It was sad knowing that such a hard-working, energetic woman was going to be brought to an early end by a bad heart. It was probably wrong to think it, but at least Minnie would have a little time without her sister bossing her around and making her life difficult.