“Hi, Mr. McFarlane. She’s in the dining room, visiting with the guests.”
“Have her call me when she gets a moment.”
“Hold on. She just came into the kitchen …”
Then Melanie was on the line. “Connor. Hi.”
“You sound breathless.”
“We’ve got a full house.” Even in the lagging economy, she was making the Hopping H pay. “And it’s Saturday breakfast, which is always hectic.”
“Just called to give you a heads-up. About tomorrow? I invited two more people. I hope that’s okay.”
“No problem. The more the merrier. Who? Do I know them?”
“Tori Jones and Jerilyn Doolin.”
“Ah,” Melanie said. It was a very knowing kind of sound.
“What does ah mean?”
“Not a thing.”
“Liar.”
“Well, if you must know, I ran into Tori at the Tottering Teapot last Monday.”
“The Tottering Teapot. Is that a restaurant?”
“That’s right. On Main. We all love it.”
“We?”
“It’s more of a woman’s kind of place, actually,” she explained. That news didn’t surprise him in the least. “Lots of fresh salads. About a thousand different varieties of tea.”
“I get the picture,” he said without a lot of enthusiasm. “So you talked with Tori …”
“I did. She mentioned she was going out with you. And Grant dropped by early this morning. You two were spotted in the Gallatin Room last night.”
He shook his head, though his sister couldn’t see. “News travels at the speed of light around this town.”
“It does, absolutely.” Melanie lowered her voice. “Did you enjoy the evening? Isn’t Tori great? I’m glad to see you dating again. It’s about time.”
“I did. She is. And come on. It’s only been a year since the divorce. For your information, I have dated before last night, though the two other women I spent time with were nothing like Tori Jones.”
“You never told me.” She faked a hurt tone.
And suddenly, he could see her as she was at seven or eight years old. A skinny little red-headed thing, wanting attention from her big brother. And never getting it.
He swallowed down the sudden lump of guilt in his throat and kidded her, “Melanie, no matter how well we get along now, I’m not telling you everything.”
“And just when I thought I knew all your secrets.” Her joking tone turned distracted. “Hold on a minute …” He heard her giving instructions to someone. Then she came back on the line. “Where were we?”
“I’m not going to keep you. But I did want to ask …”
“What? Name it.”
“About that job offer Russ made, for CJ?”
“Still open. Just say the word.”
“Great. But I’m thinking CJ’s more likely to agree to the idea if it comes straight from you—or from anyone but me. Somehow, whatever I say to him nowadays, he thinks it’s an order. An order he’s honor-bound to reject out of hand.”
“All right, then. Sunday, when the time is right, I’ll offer him a job.”
Tori called Jerilyn at nine Saturday morning to invite her to the Sunday picnic at Melanie’s guest ranch.
The teenager answered the phone in tears. “Oh, Ms. Jones, I don’t know what to do …”
“What? What’s the matter?”
“Can I … would it be all right if I came over?”
“Yes. Right now. Do you want me to come and get you?”
“Oh, no. It’s okay.” The girl paused to stifle a sob. “I can ride my bike. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’ll be right over.”
When Jerilyn appeared, pedaling fast down the street, Tori was waiting for her, out on the porch.
“Oh, Ms. Jones.” Jerilyn dropped her bike on the front walk. Fresh tears welled. She ran up the steps and into Tori’s waiting arms.
Tori pulled the girl inside and shut the door. “Shh … shh. There now. Okay …”
When the sobbing settled down a little, Tori led her to the sofa, passed the tissues, and got the story out of her.
“My dad got a warning Thursday. From his supervisor. My dad hasn’t been getting the summer maintenance done. And if his work doesn’t improve in the next two weeks, he’s going to get fired.”
“Oh, Jerilyn.” Tori hugged her again. “Did your dad tell you this?”
Jerilyn blew her nose. “No way. He doesn’t tell me anything. I found the warning notice on the kitchen table, wadded up in a ball. And he started drinking Thursday night. He called in sick yesterday. He drank all day, late into last night. He was still at it when I finally went to bed. This morning, he won’t get up. I made breakfast. Just what he likes, scrambled eggs and home fries, sausage and English muffins. I tried to get him up to eat. He just growled at me to leave him alone.”
“Has he … hit you?” Tori hated to ask, but she knew that she had to. “Or hurt you in any way?”
Jerilyn sobbed and shook her head. “Oh, no. He just sits at the kitchen table and drinks and doesn’t say anything. Sometimes … he cries.”
Tori grabbed her close again. “Aw, honey. It’s okay. It’s okay.” As she gave out the familiar litany of reassurances, she knew that in reality, it wasn’t okay. Not okay in the least.
“He would never hurt me.” Jerilyn swallowed more sobs. “Except that when he loses his job and we can’t pay the bills and… well, that will hurt me. That will hurt me really bad.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
Jerilyn sagged against Tori with a long, sad sigh. “Yeah. It is. It is going to happen.”
Tori took her by the shoulders. “Look at me. Do you trust me?”
“You know I do. Totally.”
“I’m going to call someone who can help, okay? I’m going to do everything I can
