Yarned and Dangerous (18 page)

“Are you going to draw?” Mitch asked. “Why don't we go wait in the cafeteria, where you'll have a table? Kelly will come and find us when the doctor's ready.”

Josie shook her head. “Thanks, but no. I'm fine here. My apartment in Brooklyn is so small, I'm used to working like this.” She picked up one of her keeper sketches, preparing to redraw it, this time with more detail, then looked into Mitch's blue eyes. “And thanks. For being there for Eb. And for me,” she added. She never would have figured herself for the shy type, but this kind, good-looking alpaca farmer seemed to bring that out in her. Weird.

Mitch grinned. “You're welcome. Now get to work. It'll keep your mind off things.”

Josie wasn't so sure about that, but it turned out to be true. She was just putting the finishing touches on her second drawing—the one of the emerald green New Year's Eve dress with the matching knitted stole—when a white-coated figure came to stand in front of her.

Josie looked up to see a petite woman with short, dark hair and big brown eyes behind tortoise-shell glasses. The woman stuck out her hand. “Dr. Andersen,” she said. “I'm the cardiologist. Let's go into a private room so I can fill you in.”

Josie got up to follow, turning to look at Mitch. “Will you come, too? I'd feel better with some moral support.”

“You bet.” He stood with alacrity and took her arm. They followed Dr. Andersen down a long hallway covered with brightly colored abstract art and into a small conference room.

When they were all seated, Dr. Andersen began. “Your uncle is quite lucky. The preliminary tests show that he most likely did not suffer a heart attack.”

Josie blew out a breath of relief, then frowned. “But the chest pains and shortness of breath. What else could that be? Are you sure?” She wanted to clap her hand over her mouth. She'd probably just insulted this woman who was, in fact, clearly smart enough to have graduated from medical school.

Dr. Andersen chuckled. “Well, no. I'm not entirely sure yet, which is why I want to keep him overnight, maybe for a couple of days, for observation.”

Mitch returned the chuckle. “Eb's not going to like that.”

Josie straightened up in her chair. “Eb doesn't have any choice. He's staying until we figure out what's wrong.” Her sudden bravado gave way to doubt. If Eb didn't want to stay, there wasn't a whole lot she could do about it. Except not provide him with a ride home.

“I like your spunk,” Dr. Andersen said. “But seriously, I want to run some more tests. We have him hooked up to a cardiac monitor, and it would be best to get some more data before we rule anything, like a heart attack, out. And I may have him looked at by a colleague tomorrow.”

“Can we go see him?”

Dr. Andersen smiled. “You can. But afterward I suggest you go on home. We have your number in case anything changes—and my gut feeling is that it won't. He's stable, and he's in good hands here.”

Josie felt her whole body relax. This doctor must have been at the top of her class in bedside manner. “I know. We'll just go in for a few minutes. He has a television in his room, right? It's almost time for that extreme fishing show he likes.”

The doctor nodded. “This way.”

Eb's room had pale yellow walls and two beds that could be separated by a floor-to-ceiling white curtain, which was currently open to reveal that Eb did not have a roommate. Which was good. For the missing roommate, at least. Her uncle was used to his solitude.

He wore a light green johnny and a matching bathrobe, and was sitting up in bed, his pale, hairy legs, one half encased in a cast, stretched out in front of him. “Woodruff,” Eb said, “take her home.”

Mitch, as always, was a good sport in the face of Eb's curt speech. “I will. But you know Josie. She had to come see for herself that you weren't dead.”

Eb stared out at her from under his eyebrows, which seemed even grayer and longer than they had just a few days ago. “I ain't. Now get on out of here. My show's coming on, and I don't want you yammering so I can't hear it.”

Josie leaned forward to give her great-uncle a hug, but he drew back. So Josie reached out and gave him a gentle punch in the upper arm. “Fine. I'm leaving. But I'll be back tomorrow.”

“Suit yourself. Woodruff, make sure she takes care of the animals.” Josie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She'd been doing just fine taking care of the chickens, and Jethro, and Coco.

“Josie knows what she's doing. But I'll see that she gets home safely.” Mitch grinned.

Eb's eyes narrowed. “See that you do.” He leaned back against several big white pillows, then turned to Josie. “And you. Stop at the general store and bring me some more of those oatmeal cookies Lorna makes,” he ordered.

“Aye, aye, captain,” Josie said. “Bye, Eb. Behave and don't terrorize the nurses tonight, will you? I'll see you tomorrow.” She stowed the overnight bag she'd brought for him on a visitor's chair and handed him the remote control.

“Later, Eb.” Mitch picked up Josie's tote bag and slung it over his arm.

Eb frowned again. “Don't tell your damn grandfather about this. I'll never hear the end of it.”

M
itch and Josie had barely made it to the car when Josie's cell phone chirped.
Evelyn,
the display read. Mitch opened the car door for her and helped her in, then closed it and came around to the driver's side. She connected the call.

“Josie Blair,” Evelyn said after they'd exchanged greetings. “What in heaven's name is going on? I heard the ambulance was sent out to Eben's this afternoon!”

Josie related what they knew, which turned out not to be that much. “So they're keeping him overnight for observation and some more tests tomorrow,” she concluded.

Evelyn clucked. “That's terrible! I mean, it's good dear Eben probably didn't have a heart attack, of course. Come and stay with me tonight. I don't like to think of you rattling around that drafty old house by yourself.”

Now that Evelyn mentioned it, Josie wasn't all that enthused about staying at the house alone, even with Jethro on guard. She'd seen a dog treat turn the beast into a harmless bunny rabbit, so she wasn't totally convinced he was up to the task. But no, she needed to go home. She had to take care of the animals, and get up early in the morning with the chickens.

“Thanks, Evelyn. That's awfully sweet of you. But I'll be fine.” Probably. A vision of the night she was almost run off the road by an unknown vehicle flashed across her brain. Her heart rate ticked up.

“I won't take no for an answer. Are you with Mitchell?”

“Yes.”

“Is he driving? Put him on.” Josie dutifully handed the phone to Mitch, who was just turning on the ignition.

Mitch took the phone, brushing her hand lightly as he did so. Probably accidentally. But she liked it anyway.

“Hi, Evelyn,” he said. “Uh-huh . . . uh-huh. I'll try.” He rang off and handed the phone to Josie, who stowed it in her purse.

“Well,” he said, grinning. “She won't take no for an answer. Which is good, because I was going to invite you to stay at the Hotel Woodruff, but that would have been . . . awkward.”

Josie laughed. “Not known for your hospitality?”

Mitch turned on the radio, then turned down the volume so they could still converse. “Let's just say we're a couple of bachelor farmers, and leave it at that.” His voice turned serious. “But I would feel better if you stayed at Evelyn's tonight. If you don't mind leaving me a key to the house, I'll fill up the woodstove, take care of the animals, and bring the eggs to you in town tomorrow morning.”

A surge of emotion rose up into Josie's throat. People in this town really did care. She was for all intents and purposes an outsider, yet, aside from the Humphries family, people had been going out of their way to help her ever since she arrived. “Okay,” she said, when she could finally speak. “Drop me at the farm so I can pack an overnight bag and say good-bye to Coco. I'll drive myself back to Evelyn's so I can go directly to the hospital tomorrow.”

Mitch seemed satisfied. “Sounds like a plan.”

A half hour later, they pulled into the Lloyd farm driveway. Dusk had fallen, and the house was dark. Jethro let out a high-pitched wail, then a series of barks. He must have some kind of hound in him.

Mitch walked her into the house and waited while she packed and found Coco. The cat twined around her feet, and she reached down to scratch between the cat's ears. “I'll be back tomorrow, Coco. Go find somewhere to sleep.” Jethro came barreling through the dining room, sliding to a stop in front of Mitch. Coco took off like a shot. The dog panted and rubbed his head on Mitch's thigh until Mitch relented and gave him a pet. “Settle down, buster. Dinner's coming.”

Between the two of them, Mitch and Josie made short work of the evening chores, and it wasn't long before Josie was stuffing her overnight bag into the full trunk of the car, alongside the three bags of yarn she needed to give to Evelyn. She'd forgotten all about them.

Mitch opened the car door, and Josie got in. “Would you mind giving me a quick text when you get there? It would make me feel better knowing you arrived safely.”

“I will. And I won't make a comment about your being a mother hen, either.” She smiled and punched his number into the contacts list of her phone.

He grinned back at her. “See you in town tomorrow.” He stepped back as she put the car into reverse, her foot still on the brake pedal, holding her in place.

“Thanks, Mitch. For everything.”

He nodded and put his hand up in a wave as she rolled out of the driveway.

“Antonio, listen up,” she said, addressing her GPS unit. She probably could have found Evelyn's house without him, but she didn't feel like driving all over town. She spoke the address, and Antonio did his calculations.

Evelyn lived on Trelawney Court, a cul-de-sac containing a lot of neat Cape Cod–style houses with smallish lawns. While not new homes, most appeared to be well kept, and Evelyn's was no exception. The white siding could have used a power washing, but that was par for the course in New England in February, Josie supposed. Forest green shutters flanked each window, and the sharply pitched roof typical of the architectural style was covered in dark brown shingles. With flowers out front in the spring and summer, the home would have a cottagey appeal, she mused.

Evelyn opened the door between the main house and the attached garage before Josie even got to the steps. “Come in!” she warbled. “I've made us some dinner, since I'm sure you didn't have any.” Evelyn peered over Josie's shoulder. “You didn't bring Mitchell with you? That's a shame. He's good-looking.”

Josie entered the enclosed breezeway, dropped her bag on a bench, and hung up her jacket and scarf on the coat tree. She sloughed off her fur-lined clogs—which were rather worse for the wear after her time in Dorset Falls—and left them on the boot tray underneath the bench. Shouldering her bag, she followed Evelyn into a tiny kitchen.

Evelyn's kitchen was clean and tidy, but hadn't been updated in a while. The walls were papered in a busy teakettle design, and the window over the sink was curtained in a matching print. The cabinets were knotty pine, with black metal handles. Nineteen-sixties colonial.

“Sit down,” Evelyn said, gesturing to the small dinette table along one wall. “Unless you need to freshen up before dinner?”

“I think I will just use your powder room first, if you don't mind?”

“Around the corner and down the hall, second door on your right. You can't miss it.” She stirred something on the stove. “I hope you don't mind that I invited Sharla. Harrison took Andrew to a movie tonight.”

Evelyn's powder room had probably been constructed from a closet, it was so small. It contained a commode and a tiny sink with a mirror over it. A bud vase with a single silk rose sat on the tiny counter. A spare roll of toilet paper sat on the toilet tank lid, topped with a crocheted cover.

Josie looked at herself in the mirror. Purple shadows rimmed her eyes. After the adrenaline rush of getting Eb to the hospital, she was now feeling the aftereffects and was bone tired. Her face flushed. Mitch had seen her looking like this. It was a wonder he hadn't run away screaming. Josie ran her fingers through her hair, smoothing it as best she could, and splashed some cold water on her face, then gave her hands a good washing with soap. Moderately refreshed, she realized she was starving. It had been a long time since lunch, and the cookie she had eaten at the hospital had long since worn off.

Returning to the kitchen, she sank gratefully into a chair next to Sharla, who had appeared in the meantime. Off-duty, she was dressed in civilian clothes, and her hair was down. “Hi, Josie. Good to see you again,” she said.

Evelyn
tsked
. “You look exhausted. We'll get you to bed early tonight,” she said. “Here. I have homemade chicken soup and hot biscuits.” She ladled soup into bowls and set them in front of Josie and Sharla, then passed a plate of steaming biscuits.

“This looks delicious,” Josie said, meaning it. “I hope you didn't go to any trouble. I know this was short notice.” She spooned up some soup, catching a cube of white chicken and a bright orange carrot.

“Don't be silly,” Evelyn said. “I had the soup in the freezer, and the biscuits are from a box mix. Easy peasy. But no peas in the soup! I don't like them. And,” she added, “it's nice to have company. I'm glad you came. Both of you.”

“Well, thank you. I'm glad too.” Josie broke a biscuit in half and spread it with butter.

“How's Eben?” Sharla asked between mouthfuls. “I heard it come across the scanner that he'd been taken to the hospital.”

That was probably how Evelyn had heard about it so fast. Josie relayed what had happened.

“So,” Evelyn said. “Dear Eben can come home tomorrow?”

Josie and Sharla looked at each other and smiled.
Dear Eben
. “I don't know yet,” Josie said. “We'll know once the tests are finished.”

Evelyn's lips were now quite pale, her usual hot-pink lipstick now residing on the biscuit resting on her plate. She seemed older without the bright color lighting up her face. “Well, we'll hope it's nothing too serious. Especially now that he's Dorset Falls's most eligible bachelor.”

Josie put her napkin to her mouth, stifling the snort that threatened to erupt. Sharla tapped her foot against Josie's under the table, like they were old girlfriends.

“Most eligible bachelor? I'd say that's Mitch Woodruff,” Sharla deadpanned.

Evelyn tapped her napkin to her mouth. “If you're my age, it's Eben Lloyd.”

“Really? Does Eb know that? I'm not sure he'd like it much,” Josie pointed out.

Evelyn leveled her with a stare. “You're young, so you wouldn't understand. But let me tell you, when you're a widowed or divorced woman my age—and there are a lot of us in Dorset Falls—you strike while the iron is hot. You never know how many chances you'll get.”

“Eb's kind of . . . difficult sometimes,” Josie said. “What makes him such a catch?” She was honestly curious, though she did have one sneaking suspicion.

“He's alive,” Sharla said with a giggle. Then her face went serious. “Sorry. I know he's in the hospital. But I'm sure he's going to be fine.”

Evelyn shot her a look. “He
is
alive. In good health, up until today. Still has his teeth, though dentures and hair, or lack thereof, aren't deal breakers for most of us.” She took a sip of water.

And he's got Cora's money, Josie thought.

“And of course, he's financially secure, unless he blows Cora's money, which seems unlikely, since he didn't do it while they were married.” Evelyn looked into Josie's eyes. “Don't think the single seniors of this town are mercenary—well, some might be—but not all of our husbands left us with insurance policies or nest eggs, and remember most of us never worked outside the home in our own careers. Taxes and medical-insurance premiums go up every year. Money's a consideration.”

Josie couldn't really find fault with that logic. Not everyone married for love. Although, she personally might like to one day.

“Cora's accident was such a shame,” Evelyn continued. “And preventable.”

Josie swallowed her surprise, along with a piece of buttered biscuit. “Preventable? How?”

“Well, I have to think if Eben had been driving instead of Cora, they might not have gone off the road. And if her air bag had deployed the way it was supposed to, well, things might have been very different.”

Sharla shook her head. “We can't know that. And it's useless to speculate.”

“You know, I was wondering about that,” Josie said. “Did Cora often drive with Eb as a passenger? Somehow, I can't see him allowing that too often.”

“No, which is what made that day such a perfect storm. Eb always drove if they were together, anytime I saw them, anyway. But that day Eb's truck was in the shop, you know, Rusty's? I think just for an oil change or maybe repairing something Roy Woodruff had done, so Cora picked him up to go to lunch at the winery over in Goshen while Rusty worked on the truck. She told Evelyn earlier that day that she was going to surprise Eben.” Evelyn nodded her head in confirmation.

Josie turned to Sharla, the soup forgotten. “Did you ever figure out what caused them to go off the road? Eb doesn't remember. And he never mentions the accident.” She sat up straighter on the hard wooden chair. “If you can tell me, of course.”

“Once an investigation into a traffic fatality is complete, it's public record, so yes, I can talk about it. Not that I did the investigation myself, but I read the report. As my mother-in-law has told you, I'd like to be a detective someday.”

Josie leaned back. “You'll make a great detective,” she predicted.

Sharla's grin was infectious. “Let's hope so. But to answer your question, there was gravel in the road at the spot where they started to skid, as well as some black ice. She hit that, lost control, and ended up in the ditch.”

“And her air bag didn't deploy. Eb's did, and that saved him,” Josie said. Her stomach clenched, thinking how awful that must have been. She hoped Cora had died instantly, and hadn't suffered.

Evelyn dipped a piece of non-lipsticky biscuit into her soup. “They were having bad luck with cars that week.”

Josie inclined her head. “Bad luck?”

“Yes. Just a few days before the accident, I gave Cora a ride home from Rusty's. She was having some kind of engine problem, but Rusty fixed it. Gave the car a clean bill of health. He was fond of Cora.”