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Authors: Rachael Herron
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company, resting on her knee at night, purring up a storm.
She was taking her time going through the cottage. It was going to take a lot of work, but it wasn’t as hopeless as she’d thought, now that she knew the bags and boxes weren’t trash. A good cleaning was going a long way toward renovation. True, she’d need a new roof before winter settled in, and a couple of windows needed fixing, but the toilet was going to be fine if it was reseated, and the kitchen seemed to be okay.
She’d had an exterminator in about the bat. He fixed the hole in the wall where it had come in and promised her that he had taken care of the problem. She prayed he was right.
Abigail drove into Cypress Hollow to talk to a plumber about the toilet. She made an appointment with him, and he welcomed her with a warmth that seemed genuine. His wife invited her to a book group the library was starting. It felt good, this beginning.
Driving back to the house, Abigail passed a sign that said, “Alpacas. Going out of Business, All Must Go. Sweet Animals.”
Alpacas.
The best, finest, softest fiber, one of her favorites to work with. Maybe they were selling fleeces.
She pulled over and drove through the open gate in the direction the arrow on the sign pointed.
An older man wearing overalls and a railroad cap waved at her.
“Want a couple of alpacas?”
She shook her head and smiled. “Only interested in the fiber. Have you sheared lately?”
“Eh, never got into all that, just sheared and threw it out. Supposed to make money on the babies, but it wasn’t the money she thought she’d get.” Abigail tried not to look horrified. He threw the fiber out?
He went on. “These were my wife’s animals. She’s dead now, and they gotta go. You can have ’em cheap.”
“I have no place to put them.”
The man looked at her closely, then looked out at her truck. “Ain’t you the gal that moved in with Cade MacArthur up to Eliza’s old spread?”
“Wow. The jungle drums are beating. Yes, I am.”
“Cade has room. He told me once he loved the ’pacas, and he wanted a couple. He has that extra room off the back of his little second barn, out at the cottage, that would be perfect for them.”
He looked at her closely. “Make a nice gift for him, probably.”
Abigail narrowed her eyes. Was she being taken? She did have that little shed thing out behind the cottage, but she hadn’t really looked at it yet.
“If you take the male and female, I’ll throw in the dog.”
“The dog? ” Abigail had wanted a dog for a while now, but was now the right time?
“That one over there.” He pointed over to the porch. “I’m gonna have her put down if no one wants her, and no one does. Border collie, y’know. Best dog made.”
“If she’s the best, why don’t you keep her?”
“Wife just died.” His voice broke. “I’m outta here. Going to sail to Hawaii. Don’t need a dog. But you’ll need a dog with the alpacas.”
“Really?”
“Well, maybe not. They’re pretty good and quiet. I’ll just have the dog put down, then.”
Abigail felt her control of the conversation spiraling. She sighed. “Let me see the dog.”
Chapter Eleven
Don’t take your knitting so seriously. It’s supposed to be fun, remember?
— E.C.
C ade heard Abigail calling his name, and it sounded frantic. Was she hurt? He left the barn at a run, down toward the house.
“Cade! Help!”
Cade ran faster. Had she fallen? Did she have a medical condition he didn’t know about?
Where the hell was she?
He rounded the corner of the house, and saw her, over by her truck, parked near the cottage. An old trailer was pulling out of the driveway—was that Mort’s truck dragging it?
He kept running, but slowed a little when he noticed that she appeared to be smiling. Grinning, actually.
And what was next to her?
Good God. She hadn’t.
“Alpacas! Look!”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No! They’re the cutest things ever!”
“I thought you were
She was taking her time going through the cottage. It was going to take a lot of work, but it wasn’t as hopeless as she’d thought, now that she knew the bags and boxes weren’t trash. A good cleaning was going a long way toward renovation. True, she’d need a new roof before winter settled in, and a couple of windows needed fixing, but the toilet was going to be fine if it was reseated, and the kitchen seemed to be okay.
She’d had an exterminator in about the bat. He fixed the hole in the wall where it had come in and promised her that he had taken care of the problem. She prayed he was right.
Abigail drove into Cypress Hollow to talk to a plumber about the toilet. She made an appointment with him, and he welcomed her with a warmth that seemed genuine. His wife invited her to a book group the library was starting. It felt good, this beginning.
Driving back to the house, Abigail passed a sign that said, “Alpacas. Going out of Business, All Must Go. Sweet Animals.”
Alpacas.
The best, finest, softest fiber, one of her favorites to work with. Maybe they were selling fleeces.
She pulled over and drove through the open gate in the direction the arrow on the sign pointed.
An older man wearing overalls and a railroad cap waved at her.
“Want a couple of alpacas?”
She shook her head and smiled. “Only interested in the fiber. Have you sheared lately?”
“Eh, never got into all that, just sheared and threw it out. Supposed to make money on the babies, but it wasn’t the money she thought she’d get.” Abigail tried not to look horrified. He threw the fiber out?
He went on. “These were my wife’s animals. She’s dead now, and they gotta go. You can have ’em cheap.”
“I have no place to put them.”
The man looked at her closely, then looked out at her truck. “Ain’t you the gal that moved in with Cade MacArthur up to Eliza’s old spread?”
“Wow. The jungle drums are beating. Yes, I am.”
“Cade has room. He told me once he loved the ’pacas, and he wanted a couple. He has that extra room off the back of his little second barn, out at the cottage, that would be perfect for them.”
He looked at her closely. “Make a nice gift for him, probably.”
Abigail narrowed her eyes. Was she being taken? She did have that little shed thing out behind the cottage, but she hadn’t really looked at it yet.
“If you take the male and female, I’ll throw in the dog.”
“The dog? ” Abigail had wanted a dog for a while now, but was now the right time?
“That one over there.” He pointed over to the porch. “I’m gonna have her put down if no one wants her, and no one does. Border collie, y’know. Best dog made.”
“If she’s the best, why don’t you keep her?”
“Wife just died.” His voice broke. “I’m outta here. Going to sail to Hawaii. Don’t need a dog. But you’ll need a dog with the alpacas.”
“Really?”
“Well, maybe not. They’re pretty good and quiet. I’ll just have the dog put down, then.”
Abigail felt her control of the conversation spiraling. She sighed. “Let me see the dog.”
Chapter Eleven
Don’t take your knitting so seriously. It’s supposed to be fun, remember?
— E.C.
C ade heard Abigail calling his name, and it sounded frantic. Was she hurt? He left the barn at a run, down toward the house.
“Cade! Help!”
Cade ran faster. Had she fallen? Did she have a medical condition he didn’t know about?
Where the hell was she?
He rounded the corner of the house, and saw her, over by her truck, parked near the cottage. An old trailer was pulling out of the driveway—was that Mort’s truck dragging it?
He kept running, but slowed a little when he noticed that she appeared to be smiling. Grinning, actually.
And what was next to her?
Good God. She hadn’t.
“Alpacas! Look!”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No! They’re the cutest things ever!”
“I thought you were
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