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She went to turban her hair in a towel. Then she got the wringer bucket, filled it with steaming water, and set to work. When the floor was spotless, she took a shower, washing her hair and then standing in the hot, soothing spray until she felt warm again. Normally she wore silky lingerie, but tonight a long-sleeve flannel nightgown and fluffy slippers sounded cozier. Rain still pelted the metal roof, filling the house with a steady drone of pleasant noise. She wished she could just go to bed, but first she had to find a way to keep Rip at home before she missed so many appointments with clients that she went broke.

  She checked on the dog, who hadn’t moved, but he seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Then she poured herself a glass of white wine, hoping it would relax her, and descended on her laptop to do some research on dog confinement systems. After a few minutes she found what she believed might be just what she needed, an invisible-fencing kit. The purchaser had to bury wire in shallow trenches all around a property perimeter. I can do that, she assured herself. Growing up on an Idaho ranch, she’d spent plenty of time at the end of a shovel. Once buried, the wire had to be attached to a controller that produced a signal. The setup sounded similar to electric fencing, and she had dealt with her share of that. The dog being contained had to wear a pronged signal collar, which would shock its neck if it got within zapping range. Rip liked to tunnel out under the fence or climb over it. He’d quickly stop trying to do either if he got zinged repeatedly.

  Crystal started to order the kit. But then she looked over her shoulder at Rip. While asleep, he looked so darling. How strong were the shocks that came from a collar? Would they be painful? She needed to keep the dog at home, but she couldn’t find it in her heart to actually hurt him. Sighing with weariness, she researched shock collars and read that they delivered only gentle correction and offered three signal strengths. The goal, according to the information published, was to train the canine to halt when the collar emitted a warning beep.

  That didn’t sound inhumane, so she decided on an invisible-fencing kit with a collar strength for a medium-size dog and paid nearly fifty dollars extra for overnight shipping. She doubted her purchase would be processed until morning, but she should receive it the day after tomorrow.

  She’d no sooner submitted her order than she heard what sounded like a kitten meowing outside. Following the faint noise, she opened the front door. Wind drove sheets of rain under the veranda overhang. She flipped on the outside light in order to see. Sure enough, a soaking-wet kitten huddled on the doormat.

  “Oh, baby.” Crystal sank into a crouch to pick up the kitten. All she felt through its sodden fur was a layer of cold skin and fragile bones. “You poor little thing. Where did you come from? You’re barely old enough to be away from your mama.”

  After closing the door Crystal carried the feline to her bathroom and dried it off. She couldn’t tell what color it might have been when its fur was no longer damp. Varying shades of gray? It had a sweet face with a white blaze on the forehead and white dots that reminded her of freckles around the nose. Once back in the kitchen, she held the small creature close against her breasts, hoping to share her warmth as she decided what she could feed it. Since adolescence, she had avoided being a pet owner.

  “I’m lousy at nurturing,” she told the tiny feline. “So don’t think, even for a second, that I’ll let you stay here. Rip doesn’t like cats, for one thing, and I’m challenged even to keep houseplants alive. In the morning, I’ll call the no-kill shelter. They’ll take wonderful care of you until you find a forever home.” She stepped to a cupboard and searched through the canned goods. “Tuna should be tasty. Right?”

  She put a small amount in a bowl and set the kitten down beside it on the plank floor. While the starving creature ate, she warmed some milk and offered that as well. The kitten devoured all the fish and drank the tepid liquid. When Crystal picked the baby back up, she smiled when it snuggled against her.

  “Only for tonight,” she warned as she moved through the house. After checking on Rip again, whose even snores reassured her, she switched off the lights on the way to her bedroom. As she swept back the covers and climbed beneath them, she said to the kitten, “I may seem like a nice lady, but the truth is, I’m jinxed. Except for Tuck, anything I love always meets a bad end. You’ll be much better off with someone else.”

  The kitten never moved within the protective cup of her hand. It just settled against her and began to purr. Crystal stared at the shadowy ceiling and listened to the patter of rain on the roof. Her thoughts strayed to her grandfather. For years she had allowed herself to love only him, and even that had been frightening for her at first. He had been her whole world. But over time, he’d started to seem as big as a mountain to her—and just as solid. The unrelenting fear within her had eased away, and she’d come to count on her grandfather to be the only constant in her life. He never got seriously hurt, although she worried that he might. He caught occasional colds but had never grown gravely ill. At some point, she had started to believe that nothing could ever get the better of Tucker Malloy.

  Now he faced old age, and Crystal had to accept that not even Tuck could escape the inevitability of death. There was nothing she could do to change that, so instead she just hoped to take fabulous care of him and enjoy every second she could with him until he had to leave her. Tomorrow she would convince him to forgive her. Somehow. Please, God, somehow. She’d make him understand that Patricia had deceived her and given her no option but to file a complaint against Tanner Richards. And she’d also ramp up her efforts to find a daytime caregiver so she could bring her grandfather home as soon as possible. Crystal or the caregiver could transport him to his physical therapy sessions. Under his own roof Tuck could drink as many beers a day as he liked, chew and spit to his heart’s content, and enjoy home-cooked meals.

  On those thoughts, she rode the wave into slumber.

  * * *

  The bright sunshine made the wet pavement sparkle as Tanner drove to work early the next morning. He found Prime Country on Sirius XM and blasted the music through the speakers of his truck to vibrate the cab. Singing along with the honeyed voice of a famous country singer was one of his favorite ways to start the day.

  Once he reached Courier Express he parked in his usual spot, grabbed his uniform jacket in case it started to rain again, and ran toward the building. He entered by a side door, planning to reorganize the parcels already stowed inside his assigned van. People on the night shift tried to do it for him, but nobody knew Tanner’s route as well as he did. He liked the boxes to be in order for the roads he took, early deliveries on top, late-afternoon ones at the bottom. Nothing irritated him more than to find a package at the end of the day that should have been dropped off at the beginning of his shift.

  When he reached the vehicle, he jumped in the back and found Brian Redmond inside. “Hey, Tanner.” Heavier set and slightly shorter than Tanner, Brian was a nice guy and always friendly, but this morning his smile seemed off. “I, um— The super told me to cover your route today.”

  “Why? I didn’t call in sick.”

  Brian ran a hand over his brown buzz cut. “I, um— He wants to see you. I don’t know why.”

  “Okay.”

  Obviously, something was up, but Tanner wasn’t worried. He did his job well. He rarely missed a day. His ranking on good public relations couldn’t be better, not because he was nicer or liked his job better than anyone else, but because he truly enjoyed chatting with the people on his route. They counted him as a friend, and he felt the same way about them. Promotion? A raise? Maybe. He sure could deal with that.

  He swung out the back of the van, weaved between other loaded vehicles parked on the concrete floor, and pushed through a personnel door that led to the front cubicles. He knew the way to the supervisor’s office. He went there every six months for his job performance interviews, which were always positive meetings, and it had been the supervisor who had promoted T
anner to the rural route, a cherry assignment that Tanner had wished for long before he’d been given the opportunity to take it.

  He tapped on the door before opening it. “Hey, Mac. Brian says you want to see me.”

  “Tanner.” Mac didn’t smile as he motioned toward the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”

  It was then that Tanner knew he was in trouble. Mac seldom looked like a storm cloud about to rain all over someone. “So, what’s up?” Tanner asked.

  Mac tugged a paper from a pile on the blotter. A stocky man with a belly that strained the buttons of his dress shirt, he scanned some notes. “The night-shift super left this report for me,” he explained. “Do you know a man named Tucker Malloy?”

  Tanner’s heart sank. “Yes, he’s a good friend.”

  “A very old friend, actually. As in elderly.” Mac glanced up to meet Tanner’s gaze. “An old friend in assisted living who is presently under a doctor’s care. You allegedly delivered beer and chewing tobacco to his apartment. That’s against the assisted living facility’s rules. The old fellow may be evicted because of it.” Mac’s blue eyes sharpened. “I try to be a fair boss, Tanner. I’d like to hear your side of the story before I decide on any punitive measures.”

  Tanner couldn’t think of anything to say. “I’m guilty as charged, Mac. Like I said, we’re good friends. He asked me to do him a favor, and I couldn’t say no.”

  Removing his glasses, Mac rubbed the bridge of his nose. “For the love of God, what were you thinking? You’re one of my best drivers. Am I correct in assuming that you used the company vehicle to do him this favor?”

  “Yes.” Tanner quickly added, “But I topped off the van’s tank with gas, putting in way more than I used.”

  “I know. I had Brian check the gauge.” Mac slipped his glasses back on and stared at Tanner as if he hoped the picture might change if he looked at it long enough. “And I suspect you figured the extra you spent on gas would make up for the wear and tear on the tires and the vehicle itself.” He dropped the sheet of paper. “I know you’re honest. You’d never take advantage of the company. But, damn it, that’s not the point. You drove our vehicle outside your assigned area. You purchased goods for an old man that were forbidden to him. You disregarded all the insurance liabilities that the company might have faced if the van were involved in an accident. What the hell were you thinking?”

  Tanner slumped in the chair. Everything Mac said was dead-on accurate. “That my friend missed his cans of beer in the evening, that they’d taken away his Copenhagen, and that he felt like a prisoner. He wasn’t asking for a lot, nothing that he didn’t enjoy at home on a daily basis. I felt really bad for him, Mac.”

  “Did you stop to consider that an old man who has broken his arm and undergone hip-replacement surgery might be taking heavy-duty pain medications?”

  “Yes. Tuck may be eighty, but he’s still as sharp as a tack. He wouldn’t mix alcohol with pain meds. And I did ask him if drinking and chewing were things his doctor still allowed.”

  “Not good enough,” Mac said. “I’m really sorry, Tanner, but I can’t let this slide. If I do, next thing I know, somebody will drive a company vehicle to Reno.”

  Tanner nodded. “No need to be sorry.” Nausea rolled through his stomach. What would he say to his kids? “I knew better, Mac, but I did it anyway. I’ve put you in an uncomfortable position. I deserve to be fired.”

  “You do deserve that,” Mac agreed, “but this is your first violation, and you’re too good a driver for me to just let you go. I gave you one of the cushiest assignments I had available here when I put you on the Crystal Falls rural route. I did that because you’re a single father, and it allowed you to spend more time with your kids at night.”

  Heartened to hear that he wouldn’t be let go, Tanner nodded. “I appreciated that, Mac.”

  “Yeah, well, now I have to demote you. Brian gets the cushy route for at least the next year. I’m assigning you to his rural route in Mystic Creek. You’ll still finish your deliveries earlier than you would in town, but the hour of driving there and back each day will pretty much cancel that out. If you keep your nose clean for twelve months, you can have the Crystal Falls route back.”

  Tanner stood up. “I’m sorry for disappointing you.”

  Flapping his hand, Mac said, “Ah, hell. If you’d used your own vehicle and helped out the old man when you were off duty, I would’ve had a good laugh. Probably would have done it myself. Just don’t involve the company again when you’re playing Good Samaritan, or I’ll have no choice but to can you.”

  Tanner collected his personal things from the van he normally drove and climbed inside a similar vehicle that he’d probably be driving for the foreseeable future. He put a spare uniform he liked to carry on a shelf behind the driver’s seat. He pressed the sticky pad for his cell phone on the dash. Then he stared at the parcels. There was no point in trying to organize them. He’d driven in Mystic Creek only once, and that had been yesterday. Recalling how nerve-racking the first day on a new route could be, he knew he’d be using GPS almost constantly. Getting to know all the dogs along a route would also be challenging. I’m such a dipshit, he told himself. I had the easiest route in Crystal Falls, and I blew it to do a favor for a friend. Tanner could only hope that Tuck had been able to enjoy at least one beer. Otherwise Tanner had just gotten himself demoted for nothing.

  After slumping down in the driver’s seat, he started the van engine, adjusted the mirrors, and drove from the warehouse, braced for a long day of confusion, countless U-turns, and getting lost. In his experience, country roads were the worst. GPS was a fabulous invention, but in rural areas it could go wonky.

  He wasn’t looking forward to the rest of the day. What the hell might go wrong next?

  Chapter Three

  “What do you mean, you don’t have room?” Crystal tightened her grip on the salon phone.

  The volunteer at the Mystic Creek No-Kill Shelter sounded anything but encouraging, and the conversation wasn’t going well. So many people had crowded into the shop that Crystal could barely hear over the drone of voices. Nadine had just returned from Jake ’n’ Bake across the street, and the techs were arguing good-naturedly over the cream-cheese-and-strawberry bagel that Nadine had ordered for her own breakfast. Unfortunately, it smelled so divine that everybody wanted one.

  With a giggle, Nadine curled her arms around the bag. “No! I brought you your orders. If you want one of these, go buy one.”

  Crystal pressed her thumb over the opening of her free ear, hoping to block out the noise. “But I can’t keep a kitten,” she told the shelter volunteer. “Surely there’s a way around this.”

  The bell above the salon door jingled, and she looked up to see Ma Thomas walk in. She wore a wildflower-print bolero over a rose pink top, and her short blond hair shone like polished brass. Crystal waved hello. Ma approached the front desk and told Nadine she needed to make an appointment with Crystal for a cut and style.

  Refocusing on what the volunteer was saying, Crystal replied, “But he’s just an itty-bitty baby and won’t take up much room. I honestly can’t keep him. I just can’t.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” the woman countered. “We’re filled to the limit. Can you give the kitten a home for only a couple of weeks? He’ll be easy to care for. In that amount of time we’ll re-home some animals and make room for new ones.”

  Crystal shook her head. “You don’t understand. It’s not the time involved to care for a cat that prevents me from giving it a temporary home. I’m just unsuitable. Every time I take charge of an animal, something awful happens.” And if I keep him for two weeks, I’ll fall in love with him. No way! It’s too heartbreaking. “For the kitten’s safety, you absolutely must take him.”

  “We would if we could, but we’re limited by law to a certain number of animals, and all our foster families ar
e full up. There is a Humane Society shelter in Crystal Falls, though. They do their best there to re-home the strays.”

  Crystal knew that. She had spent a few months working in a salon in Crystal Falls. When she’d been in Idaho and barely managing to make ends meet, she’d started looking for an area where there might be more of a demand for cosmetologists. The name of the town, Crystal Falls, had spoken to her because it was so similar to her own, and she’d ended up moving there. “As I recall, that place isn’t a no-kill shelter.”

  “It tries to be, but that’s where most of the strays picked up by law enforcement are taken, and when the building gets above maximum occupancy, some of the animals must be euthanized to make room for more.”

  Crystal leaned an elbow on the counter. “That’s horrible. I can’t take a kitten there. In three days, he could be put down.”

  “I know it’s brutal,” the volunteer agreed. “All that saves this facility from doing the same thing is that we’re not contractually obligated to the county to accept more strays when our occupancy is maxed out.”

  Crystal understood how difficult it must have been when animal shelters got full, which led her to wonder whether the kitten at her house had been dropped off by a harried owner who couldn’t find any safe place to take it. She didn’t approve of abandoning animals. It was heartless.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll give the kitten temporary shelter, but only on the condition that you call me the moment you have an opening.”

  “I’ll put your name at the top of our waiting list.”

  A waiting list? Her heart broke for the poor animals with nowhere to go. They were probably in more urgent need of help than her kitten. No, not my kitten. I can’t start thinking that way. I won’t love it. I won’t give it a name. I won’t hold it. I can pretend he isn’t there for two weeks. “Thank you so much for your help.”

  When the conversation ended, Crystal raised her voice and said, “Anybody in here want a darling kitten, or know of anyone who might want one?”