“Isn’t that what social media is for?” She let out a sigh, her eyes glinting with more brown than green in the morning light. “I figured you’d forgotten about me.”
“Same, sister.”
Molly laughed. “But you’re here! How long? Where are you staying? When can we get together?”#p#分页标题#e#
“Not long. I’m at the Bitter Bark Bed & Breakfast in Bushrod Square, which got pretty fancy-schmancy since I last visited.”
“Our attempt to steal tourists from Asheville, Blowing Rock, and Boone,” Molly said. “So, tell me everything. What are you doing? Are you happy? Married? Where do you live? What do you do? And what on earth made you come here without telling me?”
“So many questions,” Jessie said, laughing. “Let’s see. Yes, happy. No, not married. Living in New York. Writing articles. And I came on a whim.” She’d tell her, but not now with six people waiting for her. “What about you?”
“Not married, but I do have a twelve-year-old daughter, Pru, which is short for Prudence, which I didn’t exercise or I wouldn’t have gotten pregnant at twenty, but it’s fine because she’s the light of my life.”
“A daughter!” Jessie exclaimed. “I bet you’re an amazing mom.”
“Eh…I might be better with animals in heat than preteens in puberty, but she’s my love, and we’re really close. So, when—”
Allison stuck her head out of the door to wave Molly back in.
“Okay, okay, one second,” Molly promised. “Tonight. Please tell me we can have dinner tonight. Pru is babysitting the neighbor’s kids, so you and I are picking up where we left off. God, Jessie. Can it be almost twenty years?”
Jessie nodded with a sad smile. “But you’re the same Molly. And, oh, honey, I’m sorry about your mom.”
The other woman’s lashes shuttered, and she nodded. “Thanks. It’s the new normal these past three years, life without Mom. It sucked, I can tell you. And the only way to cope has been to work on this place, which we all know would have made her the happiest. My brothers built almost all of it with their own hands, and I split my time between this practice and one in town. But if Dad hadn’t had this vision for Waterford? I don’t think any of us would have survived.”
And there went another emotional story beat for the article she’d never get to write. “I’m so glad you found a way to work together as a family,” Jessie said.
“But you were my secret sister, remember?” Molly held up her finger. “We exchanged blood.” And her face crumpled. “Which is gross.”
“Seriously, what were we thinking?”
“That if we were sisters, nothing would ever end our friendship, not even one of us moving to Minnesota.”
Jessie gave a sad smile. “Not my fault, as you know.”
“I know,” Molly assured her. “But then, you would have to keep the other blood promise we made in seventh grade.” She held up her index finger. “We will be each other’s maid of honor.”
Jessie let out a hoot of a laugh. “I forgot.”
Molly lifted a playful shoulder. “I didn’t.”
“Dr. Kilcannon,” the tour guide said with an edge to her voice. “We’re on a schedule.”
Molly sighed and ushered Jessie forward. “Come see my sick bay, and then we’ll work out the details for dinner tonight. I can’t wait.”
“Neither can I.” Which meant she’d stay only one more night. Unless Garrett’s mood changed toward her. Well, there was only one way to find out.
Chapter Four
What the ever-lovin’ hell was she doing in this classroom?
Jessie had taken a seat in the second to last row, like she was part of the damn class, and Allison had introduced him and had him talking before he had a chance to call her out.#p#分页标题#e#
“There are ten ‘stages’ to our training program,” Garrett said, forcing himself to concentrate on the syllabus in front of him and not the redhead in the back. Not really red, he thought. Not quite strawberry blond. More like gilded auburn, exactly the color of Fletcher, a retriever he’d had during the years he started PetPic.
He’d loved that dog.
And he had to stop comparing her to dogs. Because dogs could be trusted. Magazine article writers, not so much.
“Is that the only time?” The question came from a young man in square, horn-rimmed glasses in the front row. Dan. Or Dave. Or Don.
Or damn it, Garrett never forgot a student’s name. “Excuse me?” It was the best he had for the complete loss of concentration.