Wolf Creek Wife. Penny Richards

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СКАЧАТЬ desk to gather her lunch pail and shawl, thankful that the day was over and she wouldn’t have to face the never-ending string of mothers who came to chastise and condemn her. The past two days had been interminable. She wasn’t sure how she could make it through the rest of the week, much less the remainder of the school year.

      The mother who’d shown up during the lunch recess had been particularly hostile as she’d read Blythe the riot act for behaving in a manner unfit for someone whose job it was to shape young minds and lives. Blythe had listened to the tirade in stony silence. In fact, she feared she’d blanked out during most of the bitter lecture. After two days of it, she could almost recite the familiar refrains by rote.

      When the mother had finished her ranting, Blythe had assured the woman that nothing untoward had happened between her and William Slade, but the harpy had not been impressed with the explanation and stormed away, saying that she intended to talk to the mayor about finding a replacement.

      As Blythe watched the portly matron stomp across the greening grass in front of the schoolhouse, she was thinking that the woman would have to stand in line. No doubt Homer was inundated with mothers with similar requests.

      Once she got home, she shared a cup of coffee and a slice of pound cake with her mother and then went to change into her everyday clothes. As had become routine, she made her way outside to feed the dog that had taken up residence in the carriage house.

      If his tail wagging was any indication, he was always happy to see her. She had no idea what Will Slade would say about the dog following her home. Truth to tell, she hadn’t been too happy at first, but she had to admit that it was nice not having to make the trip to the country every day to tend to his mutt.

      When the dog was fed and watered, she decided to walk to Rachel’s and check on the patient, even though she was feeling a bit headachy and dizzy herself. She prayed she wasn’t taking whatever it was that the cantankerous Mr. Slade had.

      According to the Wolf Creek grapevine, he was better. Or worse. She’d even heard that he had pneumonia. She didn’t want to start any new conversations about him with her family, so she’d refrained from asking her mother or brother if they’d heard how he was faring. Checking on his progress seemed the decent thing to do, so here she was.

      The door to the surgery opened to reveal Danny, her half brother Gabe and Rachel’s son. His freckled face broke into a smile when he saw her standing there. “Hello, Aunt Blythe. What are you doing here?”

      She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. “Hello, Danny. I came to see how Mr. Slade is doing.”

      “Mama says he’s a lot better,” Danny told her. “You can go in and see him if you want.”

      Go in and see him? Though she might have decided to see if he was feeling better, that did not include facing Will and his blatant animosity face-to-face. “Oh, no! I don’t want to intrude. I’d just like to speak to your mother.”

      “Sure thing. I’ll go fetch her.”

      Danny took off down the hall in a dead run, leaving Blythe standing by the door, twisting her gloves in her hands.

      “How’s Banjo?”

      The sound of the deep, raspy voice startled her so badly she gave a little gasp. Obviously, Will was awake and had heard her talking to Danny. Despite telling herself she shouldn’t, Blythe found her footsteps headed toward the room where the question originated.

      Almost fearfully, she peeked around the corner.

      “For cryin’ out loud,” he said in a grumpy voice. “Come on in. I don’t bite.”

      Could have fooled me, Blythe thought, taking slow, tentative steps and stopping a few feet inside the doorway. Will lay propped up on some pillows, wearing his usual scowl and several days’ growth of beard. If she thought his appearance disreputable before, he looked ten times worse now. Scruffy. Tough. Dangerous. And, she thought grudgingly and not for the first time, he was also very handsome, despite his unkempt appearance.

      His dark gaze was locked on her face, making her squirm. Searching her mind for some safe topic, she said the first words that came to mind, “I’m sorry. I have no idea how your banjo is.”

      “What?” Will frowned and the expression in his eyes said without words he thought she had a few loose marbles rolling around inside her noggin.

      She gave a slight shrug. “You asked how your banjo was. I’m afraid I have no idea how I’m supposed to know that.”

      For a few seconds Will sat very still. Then he covered his mouth and coughed a few times. When he looked at her again, Blythe imagined she saw a glint of humor in his eyes. Silly notion! He wouldn’t know humor if it walked up and slapped him in the face.

      “Uh... Banjo is my dog,” he explained. “Rachel told me you went to the farm to feed him and he followed you home.”

      Blythe felt her face flame and resisted the impulse to place her hands against her hot cheeks. How embarrassing! He must think she was a fool. Most people did, it seemed. “Yes, he did. I’m sorry. I tried and tried to make him go back, and he just wouldn’t go.”

      “He can be a bit hardheaded,” Will admitted. “Is he okay?”

      “Oh, yes. He seems fine, and he eats well.” She gave a little shrug. “I’m not familiar with dogs, so I can’t say for sure. He’s staying in the carriage house.”

      Silence reigned in the room for a few seconds. “Thank you for checking on him.”

      “You’re welcome.”

      There was another lull in the stilted conversation while Will stared at Blythe and she stared at the floor and chewed on her lower lip.

      “What did he do when you first went out?” he said at last.

      Blythe recalled the sheer terror and determination she’d felt the afternoon she’d gone out to his place and climbed down from the buggy.

      “Well, I was afraid he’d tear me limb from limb,” she told him. “But when I got out of the carriage and tossed him some ham fat, he was fine.”

      “That’s probably the best thing you could have done. He’s not really a mean dog, just very protective of his territory. His size alone keeps most people at a distance,” Will said.

      Indeed. An unexpected image of herself as she must have looked, flat on her back, being held down by the huge animal, flashed through her mind. She clamped her lips together to suppress a smile, wondering what his owner would have said had he been there. She imagined it would have been amusing to anyone watching.

      “Is something funny?”

      “Not really,” she said. “At least not when it happened. I was furious, actually!”

      “What did happen?”

      “He knocked me down. Banjo.”

      “He did what? When?”

      “That first day. I guess he got impatient for his supper, and as soon as I got down from the buggy, he jumped up and put his paws on my shoulders. The next thing I knew, I was on my back and he was licking me in the face.”

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