I held the rear door for her and she carefully set a gal-
lon jug of tea and an insulated bag on the floor before
getting into the front seat. Even though the bag was
zipped shut, the entrancing aroma of a bubbling hot
chicken casserole filled my car and reminded me that I’d
only had a piece of dry toast and coffee for breakfast.
The Ward place was a much-remodeled farmhouse
that had been built by Mr. Frank’s grandfather when
this was a dairy farm. There had once been a smaller
house over by the road that took its name from the
farm, but when a tree fell on it during a hurricane, the
grandfather had sited a larger house on the opposite
side of the farm, away from the bustling dairy. The cows
and the dairy were long gone, but the hay pastures re-
mained and so did the Wards, who valued heritage over
the hard cash the land would probably bring if they ever
put it on the market. As I approached, I saw patrol cars
down on the turnpike, but I didn’t spot Dwight.
(“
reminded me sternly.)
As is still the custom out here, I followed the drive
around to the back rather than parking out front. A
single light tap of my horn brought Mr. Frank to the
door and he held it wide for us to run through the icy
raindrops. Taffy was right there at his heels ready for a
50
HARD ROW
friendly pat or ear scratch and smelling faintly of baby
shampoo.
“If she’s ever seen a stranger, she’s never let us know,”
said Miss Phyllis, coming out to the sun porch to give
me a welcoming hug. “But you’ve been a stranger lately,
Deborah. I do believe this is the first time I’ve seen you
since the wedding.”
She’s small and bird-boned and always makes me feel
like an Amazon even though I’m only five-six. After a
quick look of appraisal, she smiled and said, “Married
life must suit you.”
“It does,” I agreed.
“And Zell tells me that you’re a full-time stepmother,
too? Poor little boy. That’s so sad about his mother.
How’s he doing?”
“Pretty good, everything considered,” I said as Mr.
Frank took our coats and we went on through the warm
and cheerful kitchen to the dining room where the table
was set with five places even though there were only
four of us. “It helps that his cousins are close by. And
Dwight’s mother, too, of course. It’s not as if he’s had
to adjust to a bunch of strangers.”
“All the same, it has to be hard on him. On you and
