“Thank you,” I whispered, staring into his eyes. “Thank you for your help. Thank you for your understanding.”
A soft smile lit up his eyes and he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “Thank you for being my friend.”
Then he got in his SUV and left.
The next morning, I woke to the sound of a car pulling onto Hank’s land. I quickly jumped out of bed and grabbed my chunky cardigan before running out to see who it was.
Hank was sitting in his chair on the porch, nursing a cup of coffee.
Abby had pulled her pickup truck into the driveway, stopping about ten feet from the house. She got out of the truck, holding a wicker laundry basket. “I hope it’s okay that I stopped by.”
“Of course,” I said hesitantly. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was angry with me. Her chances of getting out of this free and clear might have been damaged by Paul’s suicide, and maybe even by the fact that Max and Marco had shared all the details with the sheriff’s department before she could.
“I come in peace,” she said, lifting the basket slightly.
I walked to the bottom of the steps, realizing Hank hadn’t said a word.
“Hank, this is Dr. Abby Donahey, the Drum veterinarian. Abby, this is Hank Chalmers, my…” To call him my landlord and roommate would almost be an insult. Friend didn’t cut it either. Friend barely held up as a description for what I had with Marco, but what I had with Hank went beyond that. “My family,” I said, with a lump in my throat.
She nodded. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Chalmers.”
“Call me Hank,” he said. “Everybody does.”
“Okay, then. Hank it is.” She took several steps closer, turning her attention to me. “I wanted to thank you for helpin’ me.”
“I’m not sure I did,” I admitted. “I said I’d keep your admission secret until you talked to a lawyer, but it got out anyway. I’m worried it will hurt your chances of getting a good plea bargain.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “And I’m glad the truth is finally out. Paul hung it over my head every time he wanted something.” She gave me a soft smile. “After this is over, I’ll really be free. Paul can’t keep me in Drum anymore.”
“So you’re leavin’?” I asked.
She laughed. “That’s the thing. I don’t think I will. It’s just nice knowin’ that I’m only here because I choose to be, you know?”
I nodded. Sadly, I did.
“In any case,” she said, holding out the basket. “I’m going to be dealin’ with all of this legal mess, though my attorney thinks that what I know about Paul will help me get off with just probation. But he thinks I need to stay somewhere else for my safety, and Detective White has given her permission. I’ll be back once all the buzz dies down. In the meantime, I was wondering if you could foster some of those kittens you were playin’ with the other day.” She set the basket on the ground and I saw two kittens, the gray one I’d held at her office and a black and white one.
Happiness rushed through me as I scooped them both up and held them to my chest.
“I take it that’s a yes?” she asked.
I turned to Hank, who was grinning.
“Anything that makes you that happy is an automatic yes,” he said. He glanced up at Abby. “We’ll take them.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I got someone to watch the others. You can bring them in when I get back to schedule them to be spayed. I left some food and kitty litter underneath the towel. You can get the basket to me when I get back.” She took a few steps backward. “Thanks again, Carly.”
I nodded. “If you ever need someone to talk to,” I said, “I’m a great listener and Watson’s makes some pretty decent coffee.”
Abby smiled. “I’d like that.”
As she backed out of the driveway, I cuddled and baby-talked to the kittens, both of which purred.
“You gonna let me see one of them furballs?” Hank asked.
Grinning, I climbed up the steps. “Which one do you want?”
“Do they have names?”
“No,” I said, “but they’re both girls.”
“Which one is your favorite?” he asked.
“Seems wrong to choose,” I said, but I held the gray one a little closer.
He grinned and reached out his hands. “Give me that black and white one.”
I handed him the kitten, and he held her up so they were face-to-face. “Seems like you just found your new home, little one.” He settled her on his lap and began to stroke her head and back. “They need names,” he said gruffly.
I took a seat on the top step of the porch and put the kitten on my lap. “We could give them matchy names. Like Sugar and Spice.” I made a face. “That’s terrible.”
He snorted but didn’t otherwise comment. Instead, he seemed to forget about naming the kittens for the moment, sighing loud enough to have me looking back at him, arching a brow in question.
“Tell me about what happened last night.”
So I told him, and by the time I stopped, his kitten had fallen asleep.
“You sure you ain’t in any trouble?” he asked.
“Marco assures me I’m fine.”
“That boy cares about you.”
“I know,” I said, keeping my gaze on the kitten in my lap.
“No, girl. He cares about you.”
I lifted my gaze to his. “I know that too, but I can’t be anything but a friend right now. He understands that.”
He nodded, then said, “I’m gonna tell Wyatt I don’t need him payin’ for Ginger to come out here anymore.”
“Hank,” I said, jerking upright. “Don’t do that.” I liked knowing that Ginger was keeping an eye on him when I couldn’t.
“She’s working at the tavern now, and I can afford to pay her for a day or two a week. We don’t need Wyatt.” I heard the gravity in his voice, and I realized this was Hank’s way of taking sides and making a stand.
“Hank, please
