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One Day in Apple Grove(70)

By:C. H. Admirand


She hesitated before getting inside. “Not really.”

“As a doctor, I should tell you that you need to eat.”

“What about you?” she asked when he got in and shut his door.

“You keep me on my toes, Mulcahy.”

“Jack, I’m sorry…”

“Me too.” He put the car in gear and backed up. “How about a ride before we go back and make dinner?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Cait’s ready agreement had him deciding to drive out past the spot they both loved. When he turned onto Eden Church, he was surprised that she was busy sending a text instead of watching where they were going.

“Who are you texting?”

“Rhonda.”

“About?”

She finally finished typing and looked over at him. “I got a hinky feeling about Jamie’s owner. I understand that the law is the law, but I don’t trust her. She’s hiding something.”

He nodded and slowed down as they approached the spot where they’d found Jamie—halfway between Bob’s Gas and Gears and the McCormack farm. He pulled over and parked. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

“Sure.” She got out and waited for him.

Reaching for her hand, he laced his fingers with hers and started walking toward the farm. “It’s funny how life doesn’t always work out the way you hope.”

“This was as close as I’ve been to having a dog,” she told him, staring at the woods off to the left.

When they passed the spot where Jamie had run into Cait’s arms, he felt her stiffen and then slowly relax the farther they walked. “I wasn’t planning on getting a dog yet, but now that I’ve had one, the house is going to feel empty without him.”

“Especially if he was sleeping with you instead of in his bed.”

Jack agreed. “The only time he didn’t sleep with me was when you were.”

He stopped and pulled her into his arms. “Will you stay with me tonight, Cait?” He didn’t need to tell her that he didn’t want to be alone in the house.

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” When he didn’t move, she squeezed him tight and said, “Are we walking to the farm?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I thought you might want to see it by moonlight.”

They walked in silence, stopping now and again when a bat swooped low over the road, chasing a bug. A sharp bark off to the left had them both coming to a halt. “Was that—” she asked.

“Did you hear—” he said at the same time.

When the bark came again, he relaxed. “Sounds like a fox.”

She tilted her head to one side, waiting. When it came again, she agreed. When they reached the edge of the McCormack’s field, he pulled her over to the stand beside the fence. “The corn’s sprouted already.”

They leaned on the fence together. “It’s been warm.”

“What does Meg think about the bet?”

Cait nodded. “She got teary at first and then agreed that it was a great way to raise money for our neighbors who are going through tough times without making them feel beholden to anyone for helping.”

“It’s a great idea. Those too old coots always did have the town’s best interests at heart.”

“I would have thought they’d be one of the ones who could use the money, but they never see it that way,” she said.

“They’re from a generation that is used to going without if need be. Tough times either make a man,” he told her, “or break him.”

“Mmm…” she said, inhaling a deep breath. “Smells great out here.”

When she stared at him, he knew what she expected and drew in a breath. “I smell rain.”

She laughed. “That’s not what I meant, but OK, we’ll go with that for now.”

He chuckled and realized it was going to be all right. As long as he had Cait in his life, he could tackle anything. Awed by the epiphany, he tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “The ground smells good out here, but not quite the same as when it’s just been plowed.”

Watching the bats swooping down over the field, she finally pushed back and said, “I’m hungry.”

He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose and tugged on her hand. “I’ve got some burgers that are begging to be grilled.”

“Do you have any potato salad?”

“Are you going to find somewhere else to eat if I don’t?”

“No.” After a few minutes, she asked, “Do you have any potatoes?”

He paused to think about it. “I might.”

“OK,” she said, “if we nuke them, they’re almost as good as a baked potato…as long as you have plenty of butter and sour cream.”