When Tomorrow Comes, page 3
“Schooling horses?” The idea of a bunch of horses in a schoolroom intrigued Baye.
“Horses and ponies that are gentle and experienced enough to use for teaching children and some adults how to ride,” Teague said. “I imagine she wants the cats for the new barn, to keep mice out of the horse feed.”
“Oh.” Libby nodded.
“Any cats living in her fancy barns would have cozy beds, be fed every time the horses were, get regular veterinary care, and lots of attention from the kids who hang out there before and after their riding lessons. Mary Anne is also very committed to neutering, so there would not be any unwanted pregnancies.”
Libby smiled and placed a large checkmark in the upper corner of Mary Anne’s application. “I’ll go let her know her application is approved.”
“I’ll do it.” Baye snatched the paper up before Libby rose from her chair. She wanted a chance to get to know her intriguing neighbor. “We have several litters. I can help her pick out one.” She gestured to two families standing by to check out with the pet they’d selected. “I think you have other customers waiting.” She turned back to Teague. “I believe Ms. Beck is in the cathouse. You can come with me if you still want to speak with her.”
* * *
“Thank you.” Teague was normally oblivious to attractive women unless they were direct about their interest in her, because her brain was always working in the background to solve her latest project challenge, and the rest of her attention was focused on her very active animal family. But she was curiously drawn to this hazel-eyed beauty and her strange energy. She’d been aware the elderly woman who had lived there had died, then watched the small farm when it was crawling with building contractors. She’d even given a large anonymous donation online when she discovered the farm was being repurposed as an animal rescue. She had not, however, felt compelled to meet her new neighbors. But she was here now and nervously followed Baye through the milling crowd.
“I never met anyone who lives in a mansion,” Baye said. “It looks huge from the outside. Do you live there alone?”
“No.” Conversations with people she did not know well were awkward for Teague. Most seemed to be put off by her stilted speech and lack of eye contact.
Baye stopped their trek to the cathouse and grasped Teague’s forearm. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be intrusive. You didn’t have to answer that question. I sometimes forget that some people don’t like to talk about themselves the way I do.”
Teague stilled at Baye’s touch on the bare skin of her forearm. She normally bristled when a stranger invaded her personal space, but Baye’s touch was warm and light. She managed a glance into those hazel eyes that seemed to go green in the sunlight. “I have a live-in house manager, and”—she gestured to the fence where her pets were still mooching dog biscuits and ice cream from the delighted children—“my rather eclectic collection of animal friends.”
Baye’s eyes widened. “How many animals do you have?”
Teague again gestured to the fence. “The Sicilian donkey is Asset. The pot-bellied pig is Flower. The goats are Miss Abigail and her kids, Tater and Tot. The sheep are the Fluffies—Cotton, Crochet and Yarn. Lucky is the llama lurking nearby. He won’t come to the fence because he’s wary of strangers. Then there’s Cappie, my capuchin-monkey terrorist, and Mac, a blue-and-gold macaw. Miss Hennie is the boss hen of a small flock of free-range chickens, and two large rabbits in the barn graze loose at night.”
“Wow. Don’t you have any traditional pets? You know, a dog or cat?”
“Leo is a very large and lazy Maine coon cat. Snow is a Great Pyrenees mix, and his terrier sidekick is Badger, who helps Leo keep my barn free of mice.”
Baye stared at her. “So, I guess you’re not here to adopt another animal?”
Teague sighed and stared at the ground. She was still digesting and wasn’t ready to share the news of her curse. “No. I am not. I wanted to talk to Mary Anne about taking some of my animals if something happens to me.”
Baye blinked. “Are you expecting something to happen?”
Teague shifted uncomfortably under Baye’s concerned gaze. “Nobody can know what the future holds. I like to be prepared. Connie, my house manager, says it is one of my quirks.”
Baye’s hand tightened briefly on Teague’s arm before she released her. “Not a bad quirk to have, I’d say.”
Teague glanced up and was again struck by those mesmerizing eyes. “Thank you. I do not understand why, but my insistence on always having a plan irritates many people.” She shrugged and, before she could stop herself, confessed to this stranger, “I do not make friends easily.”
Baye’s smile blazed. “Well, neighbor, we certainly have that in common.” She caught Teague’s hand and tugged her toward the cathouse. “I think you and I could become good friends.”
* * *
They sat on the carpeted floor with cats and kittens playing around them. Playing with animals was in Teague’s comfort zone. She had always liked them better than people.
“I’m thinking this little gray mama and her two kittens will be perfect for the new barn,” Mary Anne said. The mama cat purred in her lap, while the six-week-old kittens played nearby with an older kitten friend.
“That’s wonderful,” Baye said, her eyes pools of gloom. “Only…well, Jimmy will be very sad.” She pointed to the older kitten. “He’s the last of his litter. Their mother ran in front of a truck on the highway, and the guy who hit her managed to gather the kittens and bring them to us. Gray Mama sort of adopted little Jimmy into her litter after the other kittens were gone.”
“Then you must take Jimmy along with the others,” Teague said, picking up the kitten in question and holding him to her cheek. “He has lost his mother and siblings. You cannot take his new family away from him.”
“We can give you a special group price,” Baye said, pinning Mary Anne with a shameless pleading look.
“A special group price,” Teague echoed.
Mary Anne laughed. “Okay, okay. You two don’t need to gang up on me. I’ll take all four. I’ll get my carriers from the truck.”
“I will walk with you,” Teague said.
“I’ll get their shot records and other paperwork together,” Baye said, jogging off toward Libby’s table.
It was a difficult conversation as they walked to Mary Anne’s truck since Teague couldn’t, wouldn’t explain why she was suddenly preparing for the rehoming of her animal family. She finally offered a small lie that attending her cousin’s funeral had suddenly made her aware of the fragility of life.
* * *
“First of all, nothing’s going to happen to you,” Mary Anne said. “Second, you’re smart to think ahead, and I’d love to promise that I would take Asset back, but you have to remember why I gave him to you before. He constantly disrupted my classes with his loud braying because he wanted to get the attention of the kids who were there to learn to ride and show horses.”
Teague sighed, accepted one of the two cat carriers Mary Anne took from her large SUV, and followed her back to the cathouse. “You are right. What about my llama? He rarely makes a sound.”
Mary Anne shook her head. “I do know a sheep rancher who might take the llama to guard his flock. I can text you his information, if you like.”
“Okay.” Teague would rather hike barefoot through snow than ask a favor of a stranger. She wasn’t good with people. She’d been friends with Mary Anne since she’d taken riding lessons from Mary Anne’s mother as a teen. “Maybe.”
“Look. Why don’t you just set up a trust that would allow Connie to keep living there, managing the estate if something happened to you? She could take care of your animals until they live out their lives.”
“It has been stipulated in the Maxwell wills through three generations that a Maxwell must own the estate. I’m bound by my parents’ will to deed the estate to my next-closest blood relative in the event of my death.”
They corralled the cats into the carriers, and Teague helped Mary Anne load them in her SUV. Mary Anne closed the rear hatch and reached out before stopping short of grabbing Teague’s arm as Baye had earlier. She was aware Teague did not like to be touched.
“Teague, I’ve known you since we were teens, and I mean this in the kindest way. You obsess over things like a dog worrying a bone. Your cousin who died smoked, drank too much alcohol, and was overweight. You’re a picture of health. You don’t smoke, consume little alcohol—”
“It gives me a headache.”
“—and Connie makes sure you eat right, even when you’re deep into a project and ignoring your need to eat and sleep. You’re still a young woman. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”
Teague wanted to blurt out that she’d just learned she’d likely inherited the Maxwell curse, but she was a scientist, and the term sounded silly when she voiced it aloud. So, she nodded. “Thank you. Good luck with the kittens.”
“Come check out my new barn on Sunday. We can saddle a couple of horses and take a long trail ride. That should take your mind off that funeral.”
A trail ride through the forest did sound inviting. “Yes. Maybe I will.” Teague offered her a weak smile. “Go pay the ladies for your cats. I should go home to feed my minions.”
Mary Anne laughed. “I think you can skip the crew still hanging by the fence. They’ve eaten enough dog biscuits to call it dinner.”
“You are probably right.” Teague shook her head and waved a good-bye over her shoulder before climbing the fence to walk across the pasture to her home.
“Teague, hey. Wait up.” Baye was sprinting toward her, so she turned back to wait for her at the fence.
“Yes?”
Baye slid to a stop and put her hand to her chest as she panted from her run. “Jesus, I’m out of shape.” Her light brown curls fanned out in a wild halo and draped over her shoulders. Her eyes were a swirl of browns and greens Teague found intriguing.
“You did not have to run. I heard you and was waiting.”
“Really?” Baye suddenly acted shy.
“I do not say things I do not mean.”
Baye tilted her head, apparently trying to catch Teague’s gaze, then gave up and spoke. “I just wanted to thank you for stopping by and helping me talk Mary Anne into an extra kitten.”
Teague cocked her head. “We made a good team.” She wasn’t flirting. Her attempts to flatter or entice normally felt awkward and fell flat. So, she never flirted. She was simply reporting a fact based on the outcome of their cathouse encounter. Nevertheless, the observation seemed to please Baye.
“I was hoping I might meet the rest of your animals sometime. I mean, if you have time in your schedule for a curious neighbor.”
This request pleased her, because she liked to show off her animals. “Of course. I expect to be home all week, so come over any time you are free.”
Baye’s shy smile broadened. “Great. That’s great. Next week then?”
Teague felt strangely elated at the promise of seeing her again and returned her smile. “I will look forward to it.”
* * *
Libby shuffled the papers on her left and stabbed at the keypad of the calculator app on her phone. “I have good news and bad news.”
Baye opened the oven a crack and peeked for the tenth time at the pizza heating inside it. She propped the pizza box next to the overflowing trash can, then grabbed a couple of sodas from the refrigerator and plopped them on the table next to Libby. Buoyed by the success of the adoption event, she flitted from one task to the next while ignoring the trash and sink full of dirty dishes. She was too hyped to sit down and chill. “Give me the good news. I don’t want to hear any bad news today.” She paused, greedy to know everything, then sat in a chair perpendicular to Libby’s. “Forget I said that. I want to hear it all, but give me the good news first.”
“The good news is that we adopted out eight dogs and twelve cats.”
Baye jumped to her feet again. “Wow. That’s really great.” Seeing animals go off to their forever homes made her swell with happiness. It was truly her life’s mission to see as many pets as possible find a loving home. “I cried when that couple chose Jocko.” In fact, just the thought of his adoption tightened her throat and brought tears to her eyes even now. The brindle mutt had an unattractive overbite and only three legs, and was one of the first dogs they’d taken in. “I knew this was the best way to find homes for our babies.”
Libby pinned her with a hard look. “But we’re even deeper in the hole since the adoption fees collected were three hundred dollars less than the ice cream truck and the bounce house cost, plus buying fifteen pizzas to feed our volunteers before they left. Those high school kids are like a pack of starved wolves when they smell food.”
Baye’s joy deflated a bit. “Are you sure you added right?”
“Yes. I added everything correctly. Three times.”
Baye brightened again. “Well, we’ll have fewer mouths to feed. I don’t know how you can factor that in, but I bet that will at least let us break even for the month.”
Libby shook her head. “I doubt it. Especially if you keep taking in new animals.”
Baye flounced onto the sofa and glared at Libby. “What do you expect me to do? Let them roam the streets and starve?” Everybody was always raining on her good ideas.
Libby stood and glared back. “No, but many other rescues have more financial support than we do. Get a list of the local ones and give it to anyone looking to dump animals—at least until we can find a way to break even every month.”
“They’re probably full, too.” She twisted to lie on the length of the sofa and scowled at the ceiling. “And what if the person turning in the animal decides that’s too much trouble and just drives down the road and kicks it out of their car?”
“What if the animals we’ve taken in starve or go without medical treatment because we don’t have money to take care of them properly? That’s what happens to those animal hoarders. They start out trying to help homeless animals and end up overwhelmed with dogs and cats they can’t afford to feed or give veterinary care.”
Baye made a dismissive sound, still refusing to look at Libby. “We are not hoarders. And I’ll pick up a few bartending jobs if I have to. Don’t you worry about it.”
“Look. We both work hard here, with only John to help, and he can’t do everything. He’s nearly eighty years old. You’re the idea person, and I’m the financial person. We have to work together. Your idea for an adopt-a-thon was a good one, but you should have let me run the numbers before you went all crazy renting an ice cream truck and a bounce house. We could have figured out something less expensive. The kids hardly used the bounce house.”
“Okay, okay. You’re right, as usual.”
“So, your idea for hosting birthday parties is a good one, but write down what you want to offer, and we’ll price out the costs so we know we’ll make money, not lose more.”
Baye sat up, her mind reeling with possibilities that swept away her sulk. “I can do that. I’ve got so many ideas. I’ll get to work on it right away.”
“Good.” Libby closed her laptop and put her papers neatly into a folder. Then she opened the dishwasher and began to load it with the dishes that covered every counter and were piled in the sink. “I don’t want pizza again. I brought some of my homemade spaghetti and some garlic bread for dinner, but I can’t cook or eat until I clean this messy kitchen.”
“You’re the best.” Baye sprang from the sofa and engulfed her in a bear hug from behind. “I love your spaghetti.”
“You’re not getting any until you bag that trash and take it out. I swear, I don’t know how you can stand living in all this mess.”
“I’ve been busy planning today’s adopt-a-thon.”
“You’re hopeless.”
“You still love me.”
Libby shook her head but smiled. “I don’t know why, but I do.”
Chapter Four
Baye rang the doorbell and stood nervously on the porch of the huge white mansion. She’d never been in a house so large and imposing. She couldn’t imagine how only two people lived in a mansion that could easily house a dozen. She took a step back when the ferocious yapping of a small dog grew louder and the large door swung open.
“Quiet, Badger. Sit.” The stern command quieted the small terrier mix. “Can I help you?” A gray-haired, older woman wearing a neat, casual cotton dress looked her over like she was an alien from Mars.
“Um, oh. Yes. I’m Baye, your neighbor.” She pointed toward the rescue center, visible some distance away down the large hill. Her words tumbled out almost on top of each other as she hurried to explain. “I met Teague at our adopt-a-thon last week—we’re an animal-rescue center—and she invited me to come meet her pets this week. Is she home?”
Clear, blue eyes appraised her again, but with a hint of humor. “You’re not going to talk her into more animals, are you? I won’t let you in if you’re planning to do that. I can’t keep up with the menagerie she has now.”
“No, no. Not at all.” Baye took a breath, glad she could pass this apparent requirement for entrance. “She wasn’t looking to adopt any dogs or cats when she came by Saturday. She dropped by to talk to Mary Anne Beck when she recognized her truck parked at our place. I was curious when she told me about her unusual assortment of pets, and she invited me to come by to meet them.”
“Well, that’s a first. She doesn’t usually invite people to her house.” The woman stepped back and waved Baye inside. “I’m Connie, Teague’s housekeeper.”
“Thank you. We sort of connected over our love of animals,” Baye said, taking in the marble floor and cathedral ceiling of the foyer. Badger sniffed her, then followed along.
