Bill feigned a sigh. “Yeah, she’s training me good.”

  Lila gave him a look then told Mitch to sit down, too. “You keep Grace company.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Lila handed them both coffees, then lickety-split put out sandwiches and paper plates for everyone. “I hope,” she said as she finished layering the sandwiches on several big plates, “that those guys can eat, too. Else we’re going to be eating sandwiches for a lot of meals this week.”

  * * *

  “Damn, it looks like a party down there,” Carl grumped to Larry.

  “Didn’t look so good earlier. That woman was scared, I tell you.”

  “Maybe so,” Carl muttered. He looked through his binoculars again. “She did call the police.”

  “Well, yeah,” Larry answered. “Like she was going to walk in there and ignore it. Which we didn’t want her to do, did we?”

  “Hell no. So okay, maybe all that food is just neighborly.”

  “Most like.” Larry peered through his own binoculars. “Them sandwiches look good. Wish I had me some.”

  “Fresh bread, too, I bet.” Carl’s mood wasn’t improving. He got heartburn every time he thought of their boss. Her demands were beginning to chap his hide. Nothing was enough to make her happy. Or at least to satisfy her. Witch.

  “I hope we didn’t leave nothin’ behind,” Larry remarked, giving Carl another dose of heartburn.

  “You better not,” Carl retorted angrily. “We talked about it before. Gloves, hats... What could be there?”

  “Nothin’.” Larry hated these moods of Carl’s. When they got going, Carl just got darker and angrier until they blew past. Lately they’d been almost constant.

  “I hope she’s satisfied now,” Carl grumbled. “Damn, what more can we do? Shoot the Hall woman?”

  “Murder’s out,” Larry reminded him.

  “I know it’s out. But what more is there?”

  “Not murder,” Larry said. “Not that.”

  “Hell’s bells.”

  Now they both stared glumly at the scene below. It did look like a party. And when had the woman, who was almost always alone, got herself so many friends?

  Everything just kept getting more and more complicated.

  * * *

  The instant the techs cleared out, after they and the deputies nearly cleaned out the food, Grace was allowed into the house. Gage Dalton had gone back to the office, but Guy Redwing and Sarah Ironheart remained behind to accompany her as she sought any missing items.

  As if she could see any, given the mess in the house. She headed straight to the bedroom where she kept photos of her wedding to John, as well as photos of him, in frames on her dresser.

  She gasped with horror as she saw the photos had been tossed around. Lifting a couple of them with her bandaged hands, she felt huge relief as she discovered that while the glass was broken, the pictures remained unharmed. She could deal with that. New frames and they would be ready to place again.

  Her dresser, a piece of very heavy and very old furniture, had been left untouched, except for a few drawers that were open, her underthings and a couple of sweaters hanging out. That worried her less than the one drawer at the bottom.

  She knelt, needing to open it, but her hands wouldn’t allow her. Then Mitch was beside her, brushing her scrabbling hands away.

  “Let me,” he said. With one easy move, he pulled it open and she nearly collapsed again. Huge tears rolled helplessly down her cheeks. The mementos were all there, from her short bridal veil to the plastic-wrapped ornament from the top of their wedding cake and John’s ring. Even the bouquet of red silk roses looked back at her.

  She found the diamond studs that John had given her for their first anniversary. She’d never understood how he’d afforded them. She’d never asked.

  The important thing was that all the reminders of her time with John she’d saved over the years hadn’t been touched.

  “It’s all here,” she whispered. “Thank God.”

  She spent several minutes staring into the drawer, so glad the looters had left this alone. Nothing else really mattered.

  Then she had to face the rest of the damage. Together with Mitch and the two deputies, she walked through the entire house, reaching a scary conclusion.

  “If anything is missing, I can’t tell.”

  Sarah and Guy exchanged looks.

  “Weird,” Guy said. “Well, if you notice anything later, give us a call.”

  She promised to do that, then was alone with Mitch and the destruction of the rest of her life.

  “How am I going to clean all this up?” She asked the question of herself, but Mitch answered.

  “You’re not. You’ve got help. And wouldn’t this be a good time to rearrange that living room?”

  She looked at him, conscious of a brief sting of annoyance, then remembered their earlier conversation. “You’re right,” she answered, feeling her shoulders stiffen. “A good time. I don’t think I ever again want to see this place as it was.”

  Late afternoon had arrived. Mitch spoke. “Lunch was hours ago. I think if we don’t get back to my place soon, Lila might get upset for ruining another of her excellent meals.”

  She was ready to close the door on all this. Before Mitch could secure the broken door behind her, something she rarely did, Betty Pollard drove up.

  “Oh, God, not now,” she muttered.

  “I thought she was your friend.”

  She looked at Mitch as Betty strode toward them.

  “She is, but I’m not up to being lectured about how I need to get rid of this place. I understand her concern, I should appreciate it more than I do, but I’m tired of it.”

  “I’m starting to agree with her,” Mitch said.

  Grace felt almost betrayed, but she bit her tongue as Betty reached them.

  “Let me guess,” Grace said before anything else. “You heard it on your police scanner.”

  “Of course I did. I would have been here sooner except I was out with Dan. Priorities, you know.” She flashed a smile, then passed Grace before she could protest, and entered the house.

  “Oh man,” Betty said. “Oh man.”

  Grace had to agree, but she wanted to escape. She’d already spent enough time in there, studying the wreckage.

  Betty emerged quickly, saying, “I don’t want to look. How can you stand it, Grace?”

  “I don’t have a choice.”

  “Guess you don’t.” Betty closed the door firmly behind her. “God.” She reached out and hugged Grace. “I can’t believe it.”

  “I’m having some trouble with it, too.”

  Betty evidently wanted to remain, but Grace had reached her limit. No polite chitchat, not now. She felt all roiled inside and couldn’t have stood any inanities.

  “I’m just going to say one thing,” Betty said firmly.

  “I know. I should get out. I told you I don’t want to hear that anymore.”

  Betty looked a little offended. “I almost didn’t come to the hospital after the barn burned down because I thought you didn’t want to see me again. But this is beyond enough.”

  “Meaning?”

  “The ewe. The barn. And now this. If you don’t feel hunted out here, then you should.”

  Betty reached out to hug her once more, murmuring, “Stay safe.”

  After a farewell to Grace and Mitch, she left with a wave.

  “That was frosty,” Mitch remarked.

  “On my part. I suppose I should feel guilty.”

  Mitch looked at her. “For what? You’re entitled to your feelings, and I can understand why you don’t want to be bothered right now. Anyway, let’s go home. If you want to yell at me, do it there. Lila will probably join in.”

  “What would she yell at you for?”

  “Being late to dinner. Although in fairness I gotta say that Lila doesn’t yell at me. She can give me looks, though, to put me in my place.”

  * * *

  While Mitch honestly agreed with Betty—it did feel as if Grace were being hunted somehow—he understood why Grace didn’t want to hear it. Especially now. As she came out of her shock and horror, she was going to defend her life choices, especially the one about keeping her home and her memories there.

  Betty’s common sense didn’t stand a chance against that.

  He could have sighed but refrained. Grace might hear him, even over the growling and squeaking of his old pickup. He didn’t want to have to explain that he agreed with Betty.

  Grace had always been a bit difficult to deal with, especially since John’s passing. Stubborn, opinionated about some things, and totally refusing to let go of any part of her grief.

  Stubbornness had probably gotten her through a lot, but now here she was, being obstinate at exactly the wrong time. The only thing that consoled him was that she couldn’t return to that house until her hands were well enough for her to take care of herself.

  He had no doubt she’d race right back as soon as she thought she could manage. But he wasn’t going to let her go alone. Not now. Not after all this hell that had been visited on her.

  Back home, Lila greeted them with delicious aromas and a smile. “Go wash up, boss. But not you, girl. You get yourself right into the kitchen and get your saliva running. I want to see you eat a big meal.”

  Grace spoke quietly. “I don’t feel very hungry.”

  “Of course you don’t. But you get in there and smell yourself into hunger. Nobody can resist my food for long.”

  “I’m sure of that,” Grace said. She looked at Mitch.

  “Go on,” he said. “I can find my own way to the bathroom sink.”

  “I hope so. You’ve only been living here your entire life.”

  Teasing. A very good sign. Maybe she’d emerge from this grimness faster than he’d thought possible.

  But of course she would. Grace was remarkably resilient, except for one thing.

  John.

  Chapter 13

  Three days later, Grace stood in her house, directing the arrangement of her living room. Bill and Jack were there to help, a good thing considering the weight of some of those pieces.

  Rearranging the room was harder than she had expected, but Mitch nudged her along, suggesting different placements. Left to her own devices, Grace might have put everything back in the original arrangement.

  But Mitch was right. She needed to claim this room for herself.

  “I should clean the rug,” she remarked as the room fell into order.

  “Are you sure that rug would survive it? Wasn’t it already here?”

  “Yeah.” It had been one of the economies she and John had practiced, using most of what had been left in the house. With a tax sale, nobody came in to clean the house out.

  It had sure served them well.

  She smiled. It felt good to smile again. The anticipation of change had lifted her spirits some. “I never asked, but did you know the previous owner? I never even knew who he was because the deed came from the county.”

  “Not well. Crusty as I recall and I don’t think I ever knew his name. Not the friendliest of guys, which probably explains why no one tried to help him out of his tax problems. Or maybe no one knew about them. I don’t remember that I ever did.”

  “Shame that he lost it. That would kill me.” She sighed. “Well, it turned out to be a blessing for me and John. Hardly seems fair, though.”

  “What’s fair about life? The man didn’t pay his taxes for at least five years. The county let him run longer than most would, I suspect. I thought about buying it myself.”

  She turned toward him. “Why didn’t you? You could have bid more than we did.”

  “Because I saw your face at that auction. Bright and hopeful. Couldn’t take it from you.”

  Her heart jumped. “Oh, Mitch...”

  He shrugged. “Not a big deal. I got you two for neighbors, then I got your land anyway.”

  That made her almost laugh. “You’re awful!”

  “Never denied it. Hey, Bill?”

  “Yeah, boss.”

  “Put that ugly old chair in that corner.”

  “Ugly!” Grace couldn’t resist, although she’d often thought so herself. Horsehair, too, which was impossible to sit on with bare legs. Over the years it had been mostly useless.

  Mitch eyed her. “I’d send it to the junkyard, myself. Or to a charity. Someone else might be desperate enough to buy it.”

  “Desperate?” Grace had to laugh at that one.

  “That’s what it would take. Lot of new upholstery, too. Maybe a charity would be too picky to want it.”

  Now the laughter rose all the way from her belly. Troubles seemed to slip into the background. Man, he was good for her.

  “You want it here?” Jack asked, grinning himself. “Reckon we could take it out to the truck right now.”

  Mitch laughed. “Don’t steal the lady’s antique.”

  “Antique?” This was too much. “It can’t possibly be that old.”

  “My guess is a hundred years. Not that that feels like much, the old century being so close.”

  He had a point there. Suddenly, this furniture rearrangement became an adventure. Like a fresh wind blowing through.

  Grace drew a deep breath, then nearly choked on the musty smell that had risen from that long-unused chair.

  “Oh, take it out,” she begged. “I can smell it, and it’s not good.”

  “Happy to oblige, ma’am,” Bill answered, tipping an invisible hat. “Some things just aren’t meant to be. Where to, boss?”

  “Our burn pile, or some charity. You guys decide.”

  “Burn,” Bill and Jack said simultaneously.

  Bill added, “The smell must be in the cushions. Ain’t nobody gonna want that in their house.”

  Mitch’s hired hands grunted as they carried the chair out into the sunshine.

  Bill groused, “Might make good target practice.”

  “Beer?” Grace asked when they returned. Both Bill and Jack were sweaty. “You’ll have to get it yourselves.” She waved her bandaged hands.

  “I think I can manage that,” Jack assured her. “Mitch?”

  “Yeah, that sounds good. Worked up a bit of a sweat myself, overseeing all this.”

  Another joke. Grace had watched him work as hard as the other two. Mitch was no slacker.

  She was also glad that Mitch had brought over a couple of six-packs when she and he had come over this morning. She could act the gracious part of all this when she couldn’t help.

  But it was just acting. A whole lot of her life seemed to be acting. Damn, she needed to get out of the hole of self-pity.

  Quit pretending, she told herself. Things were not okay and might never be again. So cope.

  “Now we gotta refix things,” Bill said. “Nothing balances.”

  “That’s a point,” Mitch agreed as he popped the top on his longneck. “But is balance important?”

  “It is to me,” Bill replied. “The lady decides.”

  Three pairs of eyes settled on her.

  “I need to think about it. Maybe I’ll have a beer, too, while I study it.”

  Mitch brought her a beer and opened it for her. “Take your time,” he suggested. “We might get into another longneck before we’re ready to get on with this.”

  The two hired hands went outside to sit on the front steps and argue about how they were going to get the “dinosaur” onto the truck bed.

  “Wanna sit outside?” Mitch asked her.

  Given the smell that still permeated the room, and the dust that had been stirred up by all the moving, she definitely did. Amazing what accumulated when you didn’t move furniture for a while. As for that old chair, she’d never been able to move it at all.

  She and Mitch settled into the wooden rockers on one side of the porch. John had been so pleased with himself for building them during long winter nights.

  “Beautiful day,” Mitch remarked.

  Indeed it was. Bright sun combined with the steady wind into perfection. Rocking gently helped soothe her, carrying her away from the mess inside her house and what it might mean.

  “I’m so grateful to you guys,” she said.

  “Hell,” Mitch said. “None of us could have done this alone.”

  “Especially that dinosaur.”

  Bill and Jack had come over to join them with their own beers. The “dinosaur” still sat on the ground behind the pickup truck. “Let me guess,” Bill said, leaning back against the porch post. “You never got rid of that chair because it weighs a ton.”

  Grace had to laugh, although at the moment she didn’t especially feel like it. “You’re right,” she admitted. “Besides, it filled a bare space.”

  That brought laughter her way.

  Mitch smiled with his eyes. “A bare space, huh. So you arranged the whole room around it?”

  “I guess so. As time went by, we added a little here and there, but we were too busy most of the time to be thinking about decorating.”

  Busy indeed. Once they’d started the flock, there weren’t enough hours in the day. They had a good time together, though. She doubted they would have made it if there’d been nothing but work.

  She’d tried so hard to keep that flock, but she was glad Mitch had taken over. It was definitely too much for one person as the flock had grown larger. Two hired men had been required along with John, who’d told her to take it easier.

  Because they’d hoped to have a child, and he believed that her working so hard might be hindering that. Then he had died, and shortly after she’d had to let the two hired men go because she couldn’t afford to pay them.

  At first, doing everything herself had occupied her enough that grief had remained in the background. Then she’d had to face the reality that she could not go it alone.