Read Online The Cottage on the Corner by Shirlee McCoy - Free Book Online Page B

sent out a posse to find her.
    At the rate the kid had been screaming, that might happen sooner rather than later.
    Thank God for Charlotte.
    There was something inherently maternal about her. Maybe it was her need to feed everyone around her. She was constantly dropping cookies or cupcakes or breads off at the front desk. Max wasn’t much for sweet treats, but when it came to Charlotte’s baked goods, he could pack down some serious calories.
    Hopefully Zuzu had done the same.
    A kid her age couldn’t go very long without nourishment.
    Or water.
    He frowned. She’d barely even taken a sip of the juice that he’d tried to get her to drink that morning. For all he knew, she was dehydrated, her little kidneys shriveling up and shutting down.
    He needed to check in with Charlotte, make sure that Zuzu had had something to drink.
    He grabbed the phone and realized he didn’t know her phone number. He should have gotten it before he left, given her his cell phone number in case she needed to reach him. Dang if he wasn’t completely inept at this babysitting thing.
    â€œDeputy Stanford,” Emma called through his radio. “We have a 398 in progress.”
    â€œA what?” He knew all the codes, but this was one he’d never heard before.
    â€œCows on the interstate. Larry Beasley’s son left the pasture gate open, and all Larry’s prize Herefords escaped. They’re trying to cross I-90 at McTravis Road. I’ve gotten five calls about it.”
    â€œI’m on my way.”
    He’d call Charlotte later. Better yet, he’d stop in. See how little Zuzu was doing. He grabbed a couple of pink pieces of clothing from the pile on his desk, dropped a pair of shoes on top of them, tucked a doll under his arm, and walked out of the office.
    He was pretty damn sure he heard Emma laughing as he passed her desk and left the building.
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    Three deliveries down. One to go.
    Charlotte glanced at the clock as she dragged a lemon yellow mixing bowl from the cupboard and set it on the counter. It would be fantastic if she actually managed to bake the cookies before they were scheduled to be delivered to Apple Valley Elementary School’s PTA holiday party.
    At the rate she was going, she’d be carrying in bowls of batter. Having a toddler around was really slowing her stride. Having Zim around . . .
    Yeah. That was even worse.
    â€œHow’s the baking going, Charlotte?” he asked as he lumbered into the kitchen, Zuzu toddling along beside him.
    It would be going a lot better if you didn’t keep interrupting me, she wanted to say.
    â€œI have one more batch of cookies to make.”
    â€œWhat kind?”
    â€œOatmeal with walnuts and dark chocolate.”
    â€œHad ’em before. They’re good. We’re running a little behind, aren’t we?” Zim asked, squinting at the dry erase board tacked to the wall. Her schedule was written out clear as day there. Anyone who could read could see that she was running behind.
    â€œAbout an hour.” She grabbed butter and eggs from the fridge, pulled dark chocolate from the pantry. If she worked fast, she’d still get the cookies delivered on time.
    â€œHmmm. Think we’ll finish before those things have to be at the school?”
    â€œI hope so.”
    â€œWell, if we’re running too far behind, I can bring Zuzu to the store and we can buy a few packs of oatmeal cookies. Just put them on one of those fancy trays of yours and no one will be the wiser.”
    â€œI’d rather die,” she muttered.
    â€œNo need to be dramatic.”
    â€œI’m not being dramatic. I’m being honest. The PTA paid for home-baked cookies. That’s what they’re going to get.” She slapped two sticks of butter into the bowl, measured in sugar and vanilla. Thank God she was past the point of needing recipes.
    â€œTake it from someone who knows. They’re not going to