Mom,” Claire said.
“Oh, thank the good Lord. You’re here.”
Her heart gave a sharp kick at the urgent note in her mother’s voice and her cast nearly slid off the ottoman as she straightened in the easy chair.
“What is it? What’s wrong? Is it the kids? Did the school call you?”
Ruth’s brow furrowed. “The school? No. Why on earth would they call me?”
She ordered her breathing to slow, her shoulders to relax, the visions of mortally ill children to clear. “I don’t know. You just sounded so frantic when you came in. I assumed something was wrong with the kids.”
“Of course I was frantic. I’ve been worried sick about you! I went to your house and you weren’t there and I called your cell phone and you didn’t answer. I thought maybe you’d had to go to the hospital or something. I’m so glad I decided to check here first.”
“I’m sure if Claire had to go to the hospital, you would be the first one she called,” Evie said in her quiet, calm voice.
“Sometimes I wonder,” Ruth muttered.
Claire wasn’t so certain, either, but she decided this might not be the best time to mention that.
“I must have turned off the ringer on my phone. I’m sorry.” She pulled it out of her purse on the floor beside her and saw she had, indeed, missed six—count ’em six—calls from her mother.
“I never dreamed you were back at work. What are you doing here anyway?” Her mother went on. “You’re not at all ready to come back to work!”
Claire swallowed her sigh. “Mom, it’s been three weeks since the accident. Dr. Murray cleared me last week and even Jeff said there’s no reason I can’t return to work, as long as I take it easy.”
“Which, for you, is easier said than done. You nearly died. I would say that warrants more than a few days away from work.”
Three weeks did not a few days make—and while the accident had certainly been scary and she wasn’t at all eager to repeat the experience, her mother’s assessment was a bit of a stretch.
“I’m feeling much better now. I was more than ready to come back.”
“You’re going to be sorry. You watch. You’re going to overdo and then you’ll pay the price. You always think you can handle more than you should.”
Since when? In Claire’s view, the opposite was probably more accurate. She always feared she would crack apart under the strain of all she had to do, but somehow, despite the odds, she always managed to get through.
“I have been easing into the work, Mom. I promise. I’m hardly doing anything, just ask Evie.”
“True enough, Ruth,” her friend said helpfully. “She’s been sitting on her lazy butt all morning, just giving orders like the bossy britches she is.”
Ruth looked between the two of them as if she wasn’t quite sure whether to defend her daughter’s work ethic or applaud her good sense.
Claire took pity on her mother’s indecision. “Why were you looking for me? Did you need something?”
Ruth fussed at a clear plastic display of business cards on the table in a way that seemed completely unlike her. “Oh, you know. Just checking on you.”
“Are you sure that’s all?” Claire pressed.
Ruth picked up the bolo tie and rubbed a finger across the stone, avoiding Claire’s gaze. “Well, the truth is, I need to ask your opinion about something.”
She seemed reluctant to elaborate and Evie, brilliant and insightful friend that she was, stepped away from the counter. “I’m going to run up to check on my dog. Ruth, will you excuse me?”
“Bring him down with you,” Claire said.
When she was gone, Claire turned to her mother again. “Mom, is something wrong? What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Not exactly. I just wondered how you would feel if I took a temporary job.”
Claire gaped at her. “A job.”
“A temporary one. Mary Ella talked to me about it this morning. But I should just say no, especially while you and the children need me so much right now for rides and the like.”
“I’ve certainly been grateful for your help, but I can make other arrangements. What sort of job?”
“Helping at the bookstore. You know Sage has gone back to college for her exams and Mary Ella’s been running Dog-Eared by herself until Maura has a little more time to sort things out. Angie helps when she can, but she’s busy with those kids of hers and of course Alex has the restaurant.”
“I think that’s a terrific idea!” Claire smiled. “You love to read. You would really excel in that environment.”
“I thought about opening a bookstore myself when I was younger.”
She stared. This was the first she’d ever heard that. “Really?”
Ruth shrugged. “I got married instead and then you came along. I wouldn’t want to do it all the time, but it should be fun for a few weeks and if it helps Maura, then it’s worth it. As long as you’re sure you and the children can manage without me.”
“While I appreciate all you’ve done for us, we’ll make do,” she assured her mother, still rather numb. Ruth sometimes helped at String Fever during busy times and she’d worked on and off at the charity consignment store in town, but she mostly lived off the proceeds of Claire’s father’s insurance policy and the sale of a hundred acres in Silver Strike Canyon that had been in her family for several generations.
“When do you start?”
“Tomorrow. Mary Ella’s going to show me the routine there.” She paused. “Do you think I’m crazy?”
“No, not at all! Why would I? I think it will be great for you. You’ll love it, Mom.”
“We’ll see. I probably can’t run Maura out of business in only a few weeks.”
“You’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
Her mother decided to stay for a while and work on a few new pairs of earrings to go with her new undertaking. Unfortunately, that meant she was just settling in at the worktable with her findings and the seed beads and Lucite she had decided to use when Evie came down with the her temporary houseguest.
Claire immediately fell in love with the tan, gangly, unusual-looking creature, with a Lab-shaped face and body but tight, wiry poodle hair. Chester, too, seemed to find the new arrival acceptable. His tail even wagged when the dog—whom Evie introduced as Jacques—sniffed around him.
Ruth, not so much. When the friendly animal headed to greet her, her mouth pursed. “I hope you’re not planning to bring that dog into the store with you on
