from the tea pot. He dropped in two cubes of sugar, saying, “Have you decided on a baking course?”
“I found one that looks perfect, except for one requirement. I’m trying to work up the courage to ask you for another favor.”
He shrugged, his face inscrutable. “I’m a very busy man, as you can tell. We’ve already exchanged favors once this week. There might be a quota, you know.”
She tilted her head. This quiet person—such a tease? “Timothy?”
“Not the glacier look, please, anything but that.”
“But I didn’t . . .”
“Correct. That was a melt-the-glacier look. Yes, whatever you want.”
“Whatever? I didn’t think you were so reckless.”
“You should have seen me when I was flying my little red Super Cub.”
“I can’t believe that. I’ve heard the saying: There are old pilots, and there are bold pilots, but there are no old, bold pilots in Alaska.”
“You’re remarkable, little lady. Tell me what I’ve just agreed to.”
She put her mug on the table and sat forward. “For my course, I need a proctor.”
“An impressive title. I think I’ve always wanted to be a proctor. What does one do?”
He was in rare form tonight. She glanced at the doctor, but he was asleep.
“I need someone to watch when I’m taking my tests so I don’t cheat. And to evaluate what I bake—that means you’ll have to eat it—and fill out a report.”
He smiled. “Really?”
“They suggest that the proctor be someone in retail sales—a business person who can judge the commercial value of my work.”
“Am I permitted to keep the samples?”
“Of course. You may also feed them to your dog, and I’ll never know.”
The doctor stirred. “Sounds like tough job,” he murmured. “But you can rise to the challenge.”
“Done,” Timothy said. “I’ll be glad to help you out. When do I start?”
“Maybe I can download some files on Monday. Then it depends how much spare time I get. There’s a lot to do in that old house.”
Timothy drank the last of his tea and gazed at her. “I knew Henrietta,” he said. “She’d be happy to see your aunt taking such an interest in the Manor.”
“Perhaps not.” Madeleine pictured the truck that had driven away with most of one whole room. “We’ve done quite a bit of clearing out.”
“Your aunt had to make a business trip this weekend, is that right?”
She nodded, ready to insist that she was doing just fine.
She’d thought the doctor was asleep again, but he opened his eyes. “You’re alone in that big house?”
“I don’t mind.”
At least, she hadn’t minded until Kent showed up. From the look on Timothy’s face, he was remembering her hasty arrival.
The doctor looked at Timothy. “The dog?”
“Exactly what I was thinking.”
Timothy smiled. “I have an idea, if you will permit me.” He whistled a low three-note call, and a minute later Timothy’s dog ambled toward them, waving his plumed tail.
“Hey you,” Timothy said. “We need to have a talk.”
The dog pricked up his ears and snuggled close—that was the only word for it—with his brown muzzle resting against Timothy’s shoulder.
Timothy whispered something into the dog’s ear, and the animal turned to look at Madeleine, as if he were sizing her up, once more.
“Put out your hand so he can sniff it,” Timothy said.
She did so, and the dog’s wet nose brushed her palm. He sat back on his haunches, as if he were waiting for something.
“Mission accepted,” Timothy said. “Would you mind having a bodyguard for the night?”
“That’s not necessary—”
“I think it is. He’s the best watchdog I’ve ever had.”
“But what about you? Won’t you need him for something?”
“Not tonight. I’m going up to bed.”
He pulled himself to his feet, and his slight body seemed to droop with fatigue. The doctor stood up too, saying, “Good night, Mrs. Burke.”
So stiff and proper. He must be wishing he’d never mentioned that
“I found one that looks perfect, except for one requirement. I’m trying to work up the courage to ask you for another favor.”
He shrugged, his face inscrutable. “I’m a very busy man, as you can tell. We’ve already exchanged favors once this week. There might be a quota, you know.”
She tilted her head. This quiet person—such a tease? “Timothy?”
“Not the glacier look, please, anything but that.”
“But I didn’t . . .”
“Correct. That was a melt-the-glacier look. Yes, whatever you want.”
“Whatever? I didn’t think you were so reckless.”
“You should have seen me when I was flying my little red Super Cub.”
“I can’t believe that. I’ve heard the saying: There are old pilots, and there are bold pilots, but there are no old, bold pilots in Alaska.”
“You’re remarkable, little lady. Tell me what I’ve just agreed to.”
She put her mug on the table and sat forward. “For my course, I need a proctor.”
“An impressive title. I think I’ve always wanted to be a proctor. What does one do?”
He was in rare form tonight. She glanced at the doctor, but he was asleep.
“I need someone to watch when I’m taking my tests so I don’t cheat. And to evaluate what I bake—that means you’ll have to eat it—and fill out a report.”
He smiled. “Really?”
“They suggest that the proctor be someone in retail sales—a business person who can judge the commercial value of my work.”
“Am I permitted to keep the samples?”
“Of course. You may also feed them to your dog, and I’ll never know.”
The doctor stirred. “Sounds like tough job,” he murmured. “But you can rise to the challenge.”
“Done,” Timothy said. “I’ll be glad to help you out. When do I start?”
“Maybe I can download some files on Monday. Then it depends how much spare time I get. There’s a lot to do in that old house.”
Timothy drank the last of his tea and gazed at her. “I knew Henrietta,” he said. “She’d be happy to see your aunt taking such an interest in the Manor.”
“Perhaps not.” Madeleine pictured the truck that had driven away with most of one whole room. “We’ve done quite a bit of clearing out.”
“Your aunt had to make a business trip this weekend, is that right?”
She nodded, ready to insist that she was doing just fine.
She’d thought the doctor was asleep again, but he opened his eyes. “You’re alone in that big house?”
“I don’t mind.”
At least, she hadn’t minded until Kent showed up. From the look on Timothy’s face, he was remembering her hasty arrival.
The doctor looked at Timothy. “The dog?”
“Exactly what I was thinking.”
Timothy smiled. “I have an idea, if you will permit me.” He whistled a low three-note call, and a minute later Timothy’s dog ambled toward them, waving his plumed tail.
“Hey you,” Timothy said. “We need to have a talk.”
The dog pricked up his ears and snuggled close—that was the only word for it—with his brown muzzle resting against Timothy’s shoulder.
Timothy whispered something into the dog’s ear, and the animal turned to look at Madeleine, as if he were sizing her up, once more.
“Put out your hand so he can sniff it,” Timothy said.
She did so, and the dog’s wet nose brushed her palm. He sat back on his haunches, as if he were waiting for something.
“Mission accepted,” Timothy said. “Would you mind having a bodyguard for the night?”
“That’s not necessary—”
“I think it is. He’s the best watchdog I’ve ever had.”
“But what about you? Won’t you need him for something?”
“Not tonight. I’m going up to bed.”
He pulled himself to his feet, and his slight body seemed to droop with fatigue. The doctor stood up too, saying, “Good night, Mrs. Burke.”
So stiff and proper. He must be wishing he’d never mentioned that
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