“That sounds like Carla. I have something to tell her that might perk her up, though. It’s about licensing for the shelter. She might be ready for some good news.” He paused, waiting for Annie to say something, but she remained quiet. Did she think it presumptuous of him to ask her to go with him at the last minute? She probably had plans for the evening—maybe even a date. Ian realized he was holding his breath.
“I did plan to get out there now that she’s home.” Annie had hesitated, and then added, “Having someone with me wouldn’t hurt. Carla’s not too talkative—at least not around me. But maybe we’ve softened her up a bit with the flowers the Hook and Needle Club sent.”
He waited for her to make some excuse to turn him down, but maybe he qualified at least as “someone.”
“See you in an hour,” she had said decisively.
When he pulled into her driveway, she was waiting on the porch, a blue vision against the white wicker chair. It was the color he liked best on her. It brought out the green in her eyes and heightened the color of her sunny hair. As she shouldered her purse and walked out to meet him, he wondered if she had any idea how beautiful she was.
“You look especially radiant this evening, Annie,” Ian said. “I assume you still have a houseguest. Is she down at the shelter with Carla?”
“I don’t know,” Annie said. A shadow of worry lingered in her eyes as they drove toward the shelter. “She was gone when I got up, I haven’t seen her all day.”
When Annie and Ian arrived at the shelter a few minutes later, Carla was at her desk, a stack of papers spread out in front of her. A huge bouquet of purple and pink blooms nearly obscured her face. No doubt these were the flowers from the Hook and Needle Club; she’d thought enough of them to bring them back with her. She hadn’t wasted any time resuming her duties. It was nearing seven o’clock in the evening, and she was still working. “Ms. Calloway,” Ian addressed her, standing aside for Annie to enter.
“It’s Miss Calloway,” Carla said, looking up. She glanced from Ian to Annie. “I’m still what’s known as an unclaimed treasure!” Humor or surprise edged out the caustic tone he’d come to expect from Carla.
“Hello,” Annie said, taking the initiative, to his great relief. “Mayor Butler and I wanted to tell you how glad we are that you’re better and to see if you need anything.”
She peered at them curiously. Her gray hair had been pulled back from her roundish face; stray strands softened the severity of the style. She wore a button-down smock of lavender that made her look feminine, and almost vulnerable. Annie had never seen her stocky frame in anything but dark jeans and a flannel shirt.
Annie nodded toward the great bouquet a few inches to the side of the large desk. “It is a bit overwhelming, isn’t it? But I hope you like it.”
Carla’s red-rimmed eyes, more gray than blue, moved to the flowers, and she studied them. She gave a little nod that might pass for appreciation, and then she looked down at her hands without speaking. She ran her tongue over her lower lip and looked up. “How is Tara?” Quickly she put her head down again, as though regretting an impulsive question.
“Tara’s fine,” Annie answered. “She was very concerned about you, though. Luckily, she found you and called for help. You were pretty sick.”
“Blasted bird!” Carla said. Then her expression softened. “Gomer was just doing what wild birds do, I suppose.” She paused for maybe a full thirty seconds, furrowing her brow. “The girl did all right on the website. She’s smart.” Her statements were stilted, as though she were unused to speech. “Didn’t think she’d be worth her salt at first.”
“Well, now you know better,” Annie said. “Tara’s relieved to know you’re all right. And we all have been praying for you too.”
At this Carla looked up sharply and narrowed her eyes as though trying to decipher a puzzle. Then she reached for a bottle of water that was making a wet ring on the stack of papers. “Mouth is dry as dust. Must be the medicine or something.” When she put the bottle down again, she looked at Annie and asked in a subdued voice, “Did … did she … that is, did she say anything?”
Annie seemed at a loss to understand the question and left it dangling between them for an uncomfortable length of time. Ian took this moment to add his wishes for Carla’s full recovery. “You’re doing a good job for our community,” he said. “I brought you some information from the state licensing board and the questionnaire you needed,” he said, handing her a manila folder.