some breakfast?” Gracie pushed two slices of whole wheat bread into the toaster.
“You talked me into it.” Tom grabbed a plate from the cupboard and quickly filled his plate with eggs. Gracie poured two mugs of coffee. There was a muffled bark from outside the patio doors.
“Rats. Poor Haley. I forgot about her being outside.” Gracie hurried to let the snow-covered black Lab in through the sliding door.
“Some dog lover, you are. Leaving her out there to freeze to death.” Tom teased his sister and sipped the hot black coffee. His brown eyes twinkled with familiar humor. Gracie noticed that his red hair was beginning to get some length and not so closely cropped.
“Yeah, yeah. Labs love this kind of weather. Plus she was only out there for five minutes. What’s the deal with arson?”
“It’s procedure. They look at everything.”
A sleepy Terry Castor and her two large furry companions walked slowly toward the kitchen. Max and Sable looked as worn as their mistress. The big dogs stayed only inches away from Terry. The smell of smoke still clung heavily to the dogs, and Gracie wrinkled her nose. She guessed that Marian had her work cut out for her today.
“Good morning. Is there a place I can let my dogs out?” Terry’s drawn and pale face was smudged with sleep.
“Sure. They can go out through the patio. It’s all fenced, so they’ll be safe.” Gracie slid off her stool to open the door. Haley quickly went ahead to lead the way. The dogs perked up when the frigid air hit their faces. Within seconds the trio was sniffing and digging in the snowdrifts. Terry was quiet, watching the dogs play in the deep snow of Gracie’s backyard. Tom and Gracie fell awkwardly silent. Gracie cleared her throat and began talking about the rabbits that must be keeping the dogs busy in the backyard.
“Are you ready for some breakfast?” Gracie asked lightheartedly.
“Sure. I guess. I’m still pretty foggy from last night.” Terry ran her hands through her short buckwheat colored hair. “I hope I can get the smell of smoke out of my nose and my hair. The dogs really need some work.”
“Eggs and coffee will help clear the cobwebs. Don’t worry about the dogs. My groomer Marian will have them spiffed up in no time.” Gracie smiled as she pulled another plate from the cupboard and efficiently set a place at the counter.
“I don’t know how to thank you for the hospitality. It’s not everybody that would take in two dogs.” Terry sank onto the bar stool and began eating with gusto.
“Dogs are my business, so I’d be a pretty shoddy kennel owner if I didn’t take you in. Plus, Haley thinks it’s great to have a sleepover.” Gracie laughed easily and finished her coffee.
“Looks like Jim made it this morning,” Tom observed from his seat. A large black SUV plunged through a couple of drifts in the driveway, making a new path with the front plow through the ever-deepening snow.
“Good. He can start plowing out the parking lot. It’s almost filled in again.”
“I’ll go give him a hand. How many dogs are here right now?” He shoved his plate toward the center of the counter and stood.
“Fifty-five as of last night. Everybody’s flying out to the Bahamas or Florida to get away from this brutal winter.”
Tom was zipping up his brown Carhartt jacket when Jim Taylor knocked. He tramped through the door with another blast of frigid air. Jim was tall with a strong jawline, black hair, and startling blue eyes. He had his Carhartt overalls on too, ready for anything the weather could dish out. The outerwear was Western New York’s winter uniform. It blocked the wind, and the thick, quilted lining kept a person warm when the temperatures plunged into the teens and below.
Jim still had the boyish good looks he’d had in high school. He was Gracie’s business partner and had also been her husband’s best friend and business partner until a farm accident took Michael’s life two and half years
“You talked me into it.” Tom grabbed a plate from the cupboard and quickly filled his plate with eggs. Gracie poured two mugs of coffee. There was a muffled bark from outside the patio doors.
“Rats. Poor Haley. I forgot about her being outside.” Gracie hurried to let the snow-covered black Lab in through the sliding door.
“Some dog lover, you are. Leaving her out there to freeze to death.” Tom teased his sister and sipped the hot black coffee. His brown eyes twinkled with familiar humor. Gracie noticed that his red hair was beginning to get some length and not so closely cropped.
“Yeah, yeah. Labs love this kind of weather. Plus she was only out there for five minutes. What’s the deal with arson?”
“It’s procedure. They look at everything.”
A sleepy Terry Castor and her two large furry companions walked slowly toward the kitchen. Max and Sable looked as worn as their mistress. The big dogs stayed only inches away from Terry. The smell of smoke still clung heavily to the dogs, and Gracie wrinkled her nose. She guessed that Marian had her work cut out for her today.
“Good morning. Is there a place I can let my dogs out?” Terry’s drawn and pale face was smudged with sleep.
“Sure. They can go out through the patio. It’s all fenced, so they’ll be safe.” Gracie slid off her stool to open the door. Haley quickly went ahead to lead the way. The dogs perked up when the frigid air hit their faces. Within seconds the trio was sniffing and digging in the snowdrifts. Terry was quiet, watching the dogs play in the deep snow of Gracie’s backyard. Tom and Gracie fell awkwardly silent. Gracie cleared her throat and began talking about the rabbits that must be keeping the dogs busy in the backyard.
“Are you ready for some breakfast?” Gracie asked lightheartedly.
“Sure. I guess. I’m still pretty foggy from last night.” Terry ran her hands through her short buckwheat colored hair. “I hope I can get the smell of smoke out of my nose and my hair. The dogs really need some work.”
“Eggs and coffee will help clear the cobwebs. Don’t worry about the dogs. My groomer Marian will have them spiffed up in no time.” Gracie smiled as she pulled another plate from the cupboard and efficiently set a place at the counter.
“I don’t know how to thank you for the hospitality. It’s not everybody that would take in two dogs.” Terry sank onto the bar stool and began eating with gusto.
“Dogs are my business, so I’d be a pretty shoddy kennel owner if I didn’t take you in. Plus, Haley thinks it’s great to have a sleepover.” Gracie laughed easily and finished her coffee.
“Looks like Jim made it this morning,” Tom observed from his seat. A large black SUV plunged through a couple of drifts in the driveway, making a new path with the front plow through the ever-deepening snow.
“Good. He can start plowing out the parking lot. It’s almost filled in again.”
“I’ll go give him a hand. How many dogs are here right now?” He shoved his plate toward the center of the counter and stood.
“Fifty-five as of last night. Everybody’s flying out to the Bahamas or Florida to get away from this brutal winter.”
Tom was zipping up his brown Carhartt jacket when Jim Taylor knocked. He tramped through the door with another blast of frigid air. Jim was tall with a strong jawline, black hair, and startling blue eyes. He had his Carhartt overalls on too, ready for anything the weather could dish out. The outerwear was Western New York’s winter uniform. It blocked the wind, and the thick, quilted lining kept a person warm when the temperatures plunged into the teens and below.
Jim still had the boyish good looks he’d had in high school. He was Gracie’s business partner and had also been her husband’s best friend and business partner until a farm accident took Michael’s life two and half years
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