Parson’s Bridge
Kazzam had loaded easily onto Aunt Mary’s trailer, and Magpie sat happily at Evie’s feet in the front seat. Still, Evie couldn’t help but feel apprehensive as they drove along the road.
“We’re almost home,” said Aunt Mary as she checked the side-view mirrors to make a turn.
“It’s pretty over here. Less rocky and more rolly.”
Mary laughed. “Ho ho, hey, hey! Rock and roll is here to stay!” she sang.
Evie laughed, too, even though she had no idea what her aunt was talking about.
“Did you bring your prize money with you?” asked Mary.
“Yes. I thought I’d need it to visit you in Toronto.”
Mary glanced at her and smiled. “I have a safe at home, or I’ll help you put it in the bank, if you like.”
After driving a few minutes more, she said, “My farm is just up this road, but let’s drop in here first. Magpie might be chipped. I see my vet’s in her office today, even though it’s Sunday.”
Mary parked the rig along the driveway of a small vet clinic attached to a red-brick farmhouse. Magpie looked wary, so Evie got out, too. The black dog leaped down and followed them into the reception room, tail wagging.
The woman behind the counter smiled. “Hi, Mary!”
“Hi, Diane. I saw your door open. Do you have time to scan this dog for a chip? My niece just found her.”
“Ann’s cat was hit by a car and will be here soon, but I’ll give your pup a quick scan first.” She came out from behind the counter with a small hand-held device. Within seconds she said, “I’ve got it.” She patted Magpie’s head and said to Evie, “I’ll call your aunt later when I track down the address. Let’s hope this sweet dog finds her rightful home, whether it’s with you or the person who got the chip put in.”
Evie knew the vet was right. If she’d been the one to lose Magpie, she’d be heartbroken and would want her returned. But still....
Mary, Magpie, and Evie got back in the truck and continued on to Mary’s farm.
“When we get home,” said Mary, “we’ll get No Justice settled and make a quick call to the Humane Society to see if someone’s reported a missing dog. Then I need a coffee or two before I talk to your father.”
Evie’s stomach did a flip. “I thought you weren’t going to call him.”
“I said not yet. I didn’t say I wouldn’t call him. You’re his daughter and Kazzam is No Justice — his racehorse. He needs to know you’re both safe.”
“He doesn’t care about either of us!” exclaimed Evie. Her face flushed as anger tightened her throat. “He wants Kazzam gone, and he wants me gone, too. I mess up his perfect family.”
Mary glanced at her sympathetically, then turned up a lane that was marked with a small sign that read Parson’s Bridge. “That may or may not be how your father sees things, Evie. It’s your truth, though, and I can see that you’re hurt.”
The farm was simple and appealing. The small yellow farmhouse sat to the left of the curving lane, on the far side of a large field. The lane forked, and a little barn was straight ahead. It looked like a four-stall. The boards were unstained, weathered wood. The fences surrounding the fields were split-rail made of old cedar, and there were three very contented-looking horses in the front field. One was a lanky bay, one a sway-backed chestnut, and one a small palomino. Evie much preferred this farm to the ostentatious Maple Mills Stables with the electronic gates and twenty-four hour surveillance.
Aunt Mary parked the truck beside the barn and turned off the engine. She smiled warmly at Evie. “We have a lot of talking to do, don’t we?”
Evie liked Aunt Mary so far, but experience had taught her that when in doubt, keep quiet. She wasn’t sure how much talking she wanted to do.
Mary seemed to sense what she was thinking and added, “In time. We have lots of time to talk after we get settled in.”
Remarkably soon, all the settling in was done. Kazzam backed off the trailer, looked around, snorted a couple of times, then relaxed as he was led to a grassy paddock beside the other horses. At first, they squealed and pranced and pawed over the fence, but after a while things became calm.
Magpie and Aunt Mary’s dogs got along right away. She had two labs, a black one named Simon and a yellow one named Garfunkel. The three dogs discovered interesting things to smell and ran around getting to know each other.
Aunt Mary showed Evie into the little yellow house. Evie quickly decided it was just the right size. The kitchen, living area, and dining area were all one room, and Aunt Mary’s messy pine desk stood over in a corner.
“Now, I desperately need a coffee. Let’s see what I can put together for a snack,” said Mary. “But let me get my messages first. The bathroom’s right over there if you want to wash up.” She pressed the message button and scribbled down a couple of things on a pad while Evie went to use the little washroom.
It was pretty, with ivy-patterned wallpaper in green and white. She refreshed herself as best she could. When she came out, face and hands clean, the table was set for two. Evie was surprised at how quickly Aunt Mary had assembled a tall glass of milk, a plate of cookies, sliced apples, and grapes, along with her steaming coffee.
“This looks delicious.” Evie was suddenly very hungry.
Mary’s eyes sparkled. “I’m glad you like it. Turns out it’s all that’s on the menu.”
Evie chuckled as she sat down and helped herself.
“So, I called the Humane Society and Animal Control. No dog of Magpie’s description is reported missing at the moment, glad to say.”
“Thanks, Aunt Mary. I sure hope I can keep her. I’ve never had my own dog and I love her already.” Evie wiped her mouth on the paper napkin and paused. “Can I ask you something?”
Aunt Mary nodded. “Of course you can. Ask me anything.”
“Why haven’t we met before, ever, when we live so close to each other?”
Mary smiled at Evie a little sadly. “That’s a long story. I’m happy to share it with you, but the short answer is because I’m on your mother’s side of the family. The Parson side.”
“I haven’t met any Parsons before. So, you’re my mother’s aunt?”
“Yes. My brother, Ted Parson, was your mother’s father, and her mother was Alicia.”
“I have grandparents?”
“Well, they died, so you don’t actually have them anymore.”
