“Can you see the skunks from her living room?”
“They’re in the pantry.”
“Stay out of the pantry.”
“I’m sworn to uphold the regulations.”
“You are sworn to protect wildlife.” Barbara reached across the table and laid her hand on his. “If you get caught, I had nothing to do with this.”
“Oh, thanks, I appreciate that.”
“We need to get those babies up and weaned as quickly and quietly as possible. Return them to the wild far enough away so they can’t show up back on this woman’s doorstep, and in the meantime, you forget they exist.”
“I can’t do that.”
“The alternative is to come down on her like a ton of bricks, take those babies away from her and abandon them to the coyotes and the foxes before they even have their scent glands functioning. Can you do that?”
“No, but—”
“I’ll stop by her place on my way back to the clinic to introduce myself. I’m the only vet in her neighborhood, and she’s a new neighbor. Does she have any pets?”
He shook his head. “Not as far as I know.”
“Okay, then I’ll do the neighborly thing. I’ll help her with those babies. First of all, rabies shots all around. It’s early, but not dangerously early to give them the shot. You go on to work and put it all out of your mind.” She shoved her plate away. “I’ll go check on Skunk Lady. Velma, honey, fix me a couple of sausage biscuits and a small orange juice to go, please.” She turned to Seth. “Vets bearing gifts. Good ploy. You pay for breakfast.”
As he watched her van drive out of the parking lot, Seth thought, The skunks are one thing, but no way can I put Emma French out of my mind. I’m already stuck with her. Heck, I may be stuck with her for the rest of my life. I can’t get her out of my head. I don’t even know whether that’s good or bad.
THE HOVEL—EMMA’S new nickname for her house—had a good hot water heater and plenty of water pressure from her well, so as soon as she’d finished the eight o’clock feeding, she was able to stay under the shower until she turned pruney. She washed her hair, threw on clean clothes and actually put on some makeup. Once the babies were settled, she picked up her purse and started for the front door, only to see someone looming outside the glass.
The babies! That man had set the cops on her! She’d never felt like a fugitive before. Should she try to hide them? Would they search?
“Hey!” called a female voice. “I’m Barbara Carew, the local veterinarian. Seth sent me to give you a hand.”
Emma didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until she let it out in an explosive gasp. She opened the door to her visitor.
The vet stood only about five feet three, wore bright blue scrubs with a beige hoodie cardigan and had the widest, bluest eyes Emma had ever seen outside of a contact lens store. She swept past Emma and handed her a paper sack in passing.
“Here. Breakfast. Figured you hadn’t had time to eat or go out for anything. Where are they?”
“Uh—the pantry. Are you supposed to know about them?”
“Too late now. Sit.” She pointed to one of the bar stools at the breakfast counter between the kitchen and living room. “Eat. You get any sleep? Food is an excellent alternative to sleep. Trust me. I know.”
Too stunned to disobey, and suddenly ravenously hungry, Emma sat, opened the sack and inhaled. Then she began to devour.
Barbara swept past her, opened the door to the pantry, cooed, “Oooooh,” and fell to her knees beside the skunks’ nest. “The precious!”
“We have to save them,” Emma said around a large bite.
Barbara picked up Peony, who whimpered before she curled into a ball against Barbara’s chest. “Honey, you have convinced the toughest, by-the-book, hardnosed ranger in the state of Tennessee to break the rules for you and your babies. It’s up to us to protect him from the dire results of his actions. I don’t know what kind of hold you’ve got on him, but unless it’s blackmail material, it has to be pure sex appeal.”
“I don’t...”
“He’s my dearest friend. You be good to him, I’ll love you like a sister. You hurt him, honey, and you’re toast.”
* * *
SETH SPENT THE morning in his office. For a job that concerned itself with the great outdoors, much of his time was spent staring at a computer screen filling out paperwork. Today he wasn’t paying nearly enough attention to it. Emma French’s face kept intruding. Didn’t matter what program he was officially accessing. He picked up his desk phone a dozen times to call her and see how the babies were doing. Each time he put the phone back in its cradle without dialing. He’d stop by on his way home to see if he could give her a hand moving some of those boxes. He didn’t even have to look at the skunks or mention that they were there.
Just before noon Earl Matthews stuck his head in the door of Seth’s miniscule office. “Lunch? The café?”
“I had breakfast there this morning. Oh, shoot, doesn’t mean I’m not hungry. Let me shut this computer down first. How about we pick up some sandwiches and head on over to the lake to check fishing licenses?”
“You got a deal.”
Sitting in the official cruiser beside the dock on the oxbow lake that fed into the Tennessee River some five miles to the south, they checked to see how many bass boats were out fishing. This late in the morning, there were none in view, although that didn’t mean there weren’t a few latecomers around the bend, close to the downed trees. Bass, crappie and catfish loved to hide among the branches of trees long submerged.
Seth let Earl run the launch down to the bend while he leaned back against the leather seats, slid his Smokey hat over his eyes and allowed his mind to drift. Emma French probably wouldn’t stay long enough for him to get to know her. Obviously she was a city slickeress. Way above his pay grade. He’d generally gone for what his father called pocket Venuses. Like Clare. Five foot three and practically boneless.
Emma’s flesh covered strong bones. She’d fight him over those blasted skunks or anything else she didn’t agree with. If they ever made love—unlikely—it would be like igniting a thermonuclear device.
“Heads up,” Earl said. “Party boat eleven o’clock.”
Almost hidden where the high weeds drooped in the water, and under tree leaves that weren’t fully open, a large, fancy pontoon party boat carrying a pair of powerful outboard motors was getting ready to hightail it away from them. There were half a dozen people spooling in fishing lines as fast as they could, and one man hunkered over the two motors attached to the stern. The engines sputtered, then kicked into action.
“Oh,
