think I will be. The slower pace is already a welcome change.”
“Funny,” Diana mused with a twist to her lips, “I didn’t think anything could lure you from your big-city lifestyle.”
Tripp shrugged. “Maybe that was true...once.”
“Well, I guess a lot can change in twelve years.”
“Yeah, a lot can change.” The words came out on a sigh. After a moment’s pause, he offered a parting smile and strode away.
Lost in trying to figure out what this new Tripp Willoughby was all about, Diana jumped when the deli clerk called her name. “Oh, hi, Stan. Yes, I’d like two Reubens, an egg salad on whole wheat and a ham-and-Swiss on rye, light on the mustard.”
She added a gallon of fresh-brewed iced tea to her order, then selected a large bag of chips. Fifteen minutes later, she was on her way to the assisted-living center.
By the time she arrived, she’d regained a semblance of composure. At the reception desk she asked for directions to Aunt Jennie’s quarters, then followed the signs to apartment 18C. The door stood open, and her great-aunt beamed from the opposite end of a small dinette.
Aunt Jennie stretched out her arms. “Come around here and give me a big ol’ hug!”
Diana dropped the deli and doughnut bags onto the table, then scooped the petite ninety-two-year-old into a gentle but enthusiastic embrace. “I’m so glad you’re finally here!”
Aunt Jennie patted Diana’s cheek as she knelt on the carpet beside her chair. In a conspiratorial whisper, she asked, “Did you remember my favorite doughnuts?”
“Right here.” Diana slid the smallest bag closer. Rising, she swept her gaze around the room. “Oh, good, you brought some of your own things to make it feel more like home.”
“Yes, but it was very sad leaving my comfy little house and garden.” The elderly woman’s lips turned down with remorse. “Even harder to give up my sweet little Ginger-dog.”
“I know, and I’m so sorry.” Diana had known Aunt Jennie wouldn’t be allowed to bring her lovable corgi to the new apartment. Aunt Jennie’s next-door neighbor Mrs. Doudtman had taken Ginger, saying she’d be a great playmate for her two shelties.
“She’ll adjust, honey, just like I will.” Aunt Jennie patted Diana’s arm.
Her great-aunt might be putting up a brave front, but the wistful look in her eyes every time she mentioned Ginger’s name brought a lump to Diana’s throat. She’d have offered to keep Ginger herself, but she already shared her two-bedroom cottage with three cats, a lop-eared rabbit and a parakeet. Besides, her tiny backyard wasn’t fenced, so a dog was out of the question. Ginger was too prissy to last long as a farm dog, which meant Diana’s parents weren’t able to take her, either.
But Diana did have an idea she hoped to implement soon. She’d begun investigating programs where volunteers brought pets to visit shut-ins, and if things worked out, she planned to establish a group right here in Juniper Bluff.
Thinking about pets brought to mind an unexpected complication. Unless Diana wanted to drive the extra miles to a veterinary clinic in a neighboring town, anytime her menagerie needed health care, she’d have no choice but to make an appointment with Tripp.
Nothing like fresh country air to sweep away the mental cobwebs. A plate of scrambled eggs and toast in one hand, a glass of almond milk in the other, Tripp eased into a red retro-style metal lawn chair and propped one bare foot on the porch rail. He couldn’t ask for a more relaxing start to a Sunday morning.
For now, at least, it remained quiet. Not long after he’d arrived to start moving in on Friday, Serenity Hills Guest Ranch was invaded by a vanload of excited kids. Tripp’s landlord, Seth Austin, had apologized for not giving him a heads-up about Camp Serenity, a program the ranch participated in for disadvantaged children. Turned out this was one of their camping weekends.
The clop-clop of horses’ hooves drew Tripp’s attention to the tree-shaded lane. Moments later Seth Austin ambled into view with his towheaded young son, Joseph, each of them leading a horse.
“Mornin’.” While his son continued on, Seth halted in front of Tripp’s cabin. “Getting settled in okay?”
Tripp swallowed a bite of toast before replying. “Close. Got a few more things to unpack.”
“Any problems, feel free to holler.” Seth patted his horse’s neck. “Just taking horses out to pasture. Didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“Not at all. I grew up in the city, but my grandparents used to have horses. Nice being around them again.”
“Anytime you’re up for a trail ride, I’m happy to oblige. In fact,” Seth said with a nod behind him toward the barn, “we’ll be taking several campers out for one more ride this afternoon before they head back to San Antonio. You’re welcome to come along.”
“Thanks, I’ll think about it.”
“Oh, and my wife and kids are going into town for Sunday school and church this morning. Christina would be happy to introduce you around.”
Tripp chewed his lip. Juniper Bluff was a small town. How likely was it that Diana went to the same church? Nope, not quite ready to risk running into her again. “Maybe next time, after I get a little more organized.”
“Sure thing.” Seth clucked to his horse and continued along the lane. “Let me know if you’re interested in that trail ride.”
“I will. Thanks.”
While Tripp finished breakfast, the nickering of horses, birdcalls from the treetops and the scent of cedar in the air lulled him into the deepest sense of relaxation he’d felt since before he started veterinary school. Man, did he need this! After a couple of debilitating flare-ups within the last several months, his doctor had warned him that if he didn’t significantly reduce his stress level, keeping the Crohn’s under control would be next to impossible.
From beyond the trees came the sounds of doors banging and children’s laughter. The campers must be up and about. Tripp took the commotion as his cue to go inside.
As he set his breakfast dishes in the sink, his cell phone rang. The display showed his little sister, Brooke’s name and number. “Hey, sis.”
“Hey, yourself. All moved in yet?” Much more a morning person than Tripp would ever be, she sounded way too perky for 6 a.m. California time.
“Getting there. How’s it going with Mom?”
Brooke’s long sigh drained all the lightness from her tone. “Not so good, Tripp. She’s trying hard to be positive, but the dialysis routine is wearing her down.”
Tripp sank into the nearest chair and massaged his eye sockets. Fighting kidney disease for the past few years, their mom seemed closer than ever to losing the battle. “How’s Dad handling it?”
“He’s struggling. Yesterday
