But Buttons wasn’t Mrs. Silverton’s responsibility. He was hers. Just like everything else Prissy had dumped in her lap when she’d decided to end her life.
Jessica relieved the old lady of her burden and took possession of the little white furball. A now quivering furball. Great. Buttons was one of those yippy, nervous little ankle biters. Definitely high maintenance.
She turned to go inside as Branch and Alan came back around to the front of the house.
“We’re finished,” Branch said. “We’ll let you know if we find out anything.”
“Thanks.”
Shane followed her inside, where she placed Buttons on the floor, then cast the mutt a disparaging glance. “Never say things can’t get any worse, because they always can.”
“Pet ownership isn’t so bad.” Shane squatted and offered the back of his hand. Buttons eyed him cautiously but didn’t approach.
“If it’s not so bad, then you take him.”
“Can’t. I move around too much. Not stable enough for a pet.”
Yep, wild and carefree. She had him pegged right.
She stared down at the dog, lower lip trapped between her teeth. “I probably need to feed him.”
Shane walked toward the kitchen. “I’m sure your sister has cans of dogfood in here somewhere.” He opened the small pantry where a few cans still lined the mostly bare shelves. He took one down and handed it to her. Definitely dogfood. The word “Blue” was printed inside a blue diamond, the word “Wilderness” beneath. Below that was a picture of a dog. Or maybe it was a wolf, in keeping with the wilderness theme. The flavor was turkey and chicken grill. The label read “grain free.” She supposed that was a good thing.
After popping the top on the can, she looked past the nearest stack of pans on the floor. A metal bowl sat at the edge of somewhat circular residue where water had likely been spilled then dried. Beside it was another metal bowl that was clean but streaked, as if it had been licked clean rather than washed.
Shane picked up the bowls and handed them to her. After cleaning both, she filled them and put them on the floor. Instead of attacking the food like she’d expected, the dog peered up at her with sad eyes.
“What?” Was there some routine she was supposed to go through to get the dog excited about eating? She picked up the dish and held it a few inches above Button’s head. “Come on, stand up.”
That didn’t work, either. She put the bowl back on the floor. “Come on, Buttons. You need to eat.” The last thing she needed was a dog on a hunger strike.
“Maybe your neighbor fed him before bringing him over. We’ll see how he does with lunch. Meanwhile, where would you like to start?”
She tilted her head. In the light of a new day, she was second guessing her decision to accept his help. Too many offers came with strings attached. “You don’t need to do this. I can handle it.”
“I’m sure you can. But think how much more fun it’ll be with me here.” He flashed her a goofy grin.
She didn’t take the bait. “Why are you offering your help? I can’t pay you.”
“And I wouldn’t let you. I already told you. I’m being neighborly. Isn’t that what people in small towns do?”
She thought for a couple beats longer. “Do you know anything about cleaning up fingerprint powder?”
“I’ve heard it’s good to vacuum up whatever you can first, then use a damp cloth with a little soap or mineral spirits to clean up the rest.”
“Once we get that done, I’d like to work in here.” She needed to be able to cook. Even a fast-food diet was too expensive for her budget.
After they’d finished cleaning up the messy black powder, Shane followed her back to the kitchen. Buttons padded over to the wall and lay down to watch. Jessica squatted in front of one of the lower cabinets, then took a stack of pans from Shane. “What brings you to Harmony Grove?”
“Just looking for a change of scenery.”
She slid the pans onto the bottom shelf and reached for another stack Shane had ready. “If you’re looking for scenery, I would think you’d go for the beach. Or the mountains.”
“Every locale has its own beauty. I’d say this is a good place to be in January. It’s cold now, but give it a couple of days, and it’ll be back up in the high seventies.”
She crawled to the next cabinet. Maybe by lunchtime, they could have the kitchen put back together. The living room would be a breeze. The bedrooms were another story. No problem. She had to sort everything anyway. She’d donate or toss most, if not all, of it. She believed in living simply. Priscilla obviously hadn’t.
Shane handed her a set of Pyrex dishes and straightened to lean back against the cabinet. “Were you and your sister ever close?”
She slanted a glance at him. “Maybe for five minutes, when she first came home from the hospital.” Her flippant tone held an underlying thread of bitterness. “Before that, my stepdad sort of tolerated me. Once Priscilla came along, I became the red-headed stepchild that nobody wanted. Priscilla could do no wrong, and it didn’t take her long to figure that out. She was constantly doing stuff and blaming it on me. I finally figured if I was going to keep receiving the punishment, I might as well do the deed.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”
The tenderness in his voice caught her off guard. So did the sympathy in his eyes. Nobody had ever looked at her like that. Of course, she usually kept her past to herself. But there was something about being back in Harmony Grove, in the house where she’d grown up, surrounded by all the things she thought she’d never see again. It was making her soft.
She shrugged. “I
