“You too, Ty.” Her voice was hesitant, but she relaxed when Ty held out an arm and gave her a quick hug.
“Sorry to run, but I need to get back out there.” He rubbed the creases on his forehead. “I just wanted to say hey. I’ll be back up as soon as I can.” He looked at Betsy and she nodded, then he was gone, headed toward the barn. His mind, Betsy knew, was wrapped around pumps, quotas, and the two weeks ahead.
Jenna raised her eyebrows. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. Just busy.”
Back inside, Betsy pulled out crackers and strawberries for Addie and Walsh, then cut two thick slices of buttery pound cake. “Milk, right?”
“Of course,” Jenna said.
Betsy placed the slices of cake on blue-and-white transferware plates and handed one to Jenna.
“Are these Nana’s plates?”
Betsy nodded, her mouth full of pound cake.
“I wish I’d had the sense to say I wanted some of her things when she died. I was too wrapped up in my own teenage dramas to care.” She ran her thumb along the edge of the plate. “The girls would love to eat off their great-grandmother’s china.”
“I have twelve of these,” Betsy said. “I can wrap up half of them and send them home with you.”
“No, I wasn’t . . . I didn’t mean that. I just . . . You’ve had your head on straight for a long time. I wish I was more like that.”
While the two women ate, the girls took a couple bites, then darted off to one part of the house or another, exploring and chasing the cat. Betsy pulled out a pad of paper and a pen to jot down the girls’ schedules, but Jenna laughed.
“I just want to make sure I know what to do. Remember, I have no experience with this.”
“If I figured it out, you can too, and probably better than me. That reminds me . . .” She fished an envelope from her purse and held it out to Betsy.
“What’s this?”
“Just a little money. I wanted you to have some extra on hand to cover the girls’ food and incidentals while I’m gone.”
“You know you don’t have to do this. We can take care of it.”
“I know, but it’ll make me feel better. Just take it.”
Betsy hesitated, then took the envelope from Jenna’s hand.
When they finished going over everything about the girls’ routines and particular challenges, Betsy cleaned up the kitchen, wiping spills and dribbles that didn’t usually appear in her kitchen. Jenna walked through the house, picking up framed photos, books, and other knickknacks, then absently placing them down again. She was so lost in thought, Betsy just let her roam. When Jenna’s phone rang in her bag, she checked the screen, then moved toward the back porch.
“I need to take this, but I’ll just be a minute.” She opened the door as wind blew against the house, pulling the screen door on the porch wide open, then slamming it shut.
Betsy peered out the window above the kitchen sink. Dark purple spread across the sunlit sky. “Guess that storm decided to come on in.” Thunder cracked and a bolt of lightning skittered across the sky. A flock of doves took flight from the side pasture and zipped to the east. I’ll check on the girls for you, she mouthed to Jenna.
She found Addie and Walsh in the empty room, lying on their backs, staring at the ceiling and talking. Betsy stopped in the doorway and knocked on the jamb. “Mind if I come in?”
“Sure.” Addie sat up. Walsh rolled over onto her stomach.
“What are you girls chatting about? Still playing a game?”
“We’re looking for clues.”
“Oh yeah? What kind of clues?”
“Just clues about the house. What kind of place it is.”
Betsy raised her eyebrows. “Well, what did you find out?”
Addie looked around her. “We like the house. A lot. And the cows. And Uncle Ty. I think we could stay here for a while. Maybeeee . . . about four years.”
Betsy laughed. “Four years, huh? That’s a long time. I think you’d miss your own home by then.”
“Yeah,” Addie said. “Probably.” She pulled down Walsh’s pant leg where it had stuck up above her knee. “But this house just feels good. And we packed my favorite princess dress and Walsh’s blanket, so we can stay as long as we want!”
She jumped off the bed and ran to their small pile of bags in the corner. She reached her hand into an old University of Alabama duffel bag, then tossed a well-loved blanket to Walsh and laid out the dress for Betsy to see.
“Very pretty,” Betsy said.
Walsh pulled the blanket over her face and folded her knees up under her belly. “Find me!” she yelled to Addie.
Addie giggled. “I can still see you, silly.”
As the girls began a game of hide-and-seek, Betsy stepped out. Rain was falling hard now, splattering the windows and turning the world outside steamy and blurred.
Jenna stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with her phone to her ear. She was smiling and chewing on her bottom lip. “Okay. Max told me it was a single cabin. It’s just me, so that’s fine.” She glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Yes, I can make it by then, but don’t worry about saving any dinner for me. I’ll grab something on the way.”
Betsy tiptoed back up the stairs. Jenna called her just as she reached the empty room. She sat on the bed and tried to look like she hadn’t been eavesdropping. Addie and Walsh stood by the window peering at a honey bee buzzing on the other side of the glass.
Jenna tapped on the door. “Hey, you two.”
“Mommy, there’s a huge bee in the window. Come see,” Addie said. Walsh’s face was pressed to the glass.
“Hmm, wow.” She leaned down and looked over their shoulders. “That’s a big one. Come sit with me a minute.” She pulled the girls to her.
As Jenna talked to them, giving them a list of dos
