Texas Dad (Fatherhood) (9 page)

“But you know a bunch of other stuff. You’d be the best mother. Hey, you’re my dad’s age. Why didn’t you ever get married and have kids, J.J.?”

A knot formed in J.J.’s stomach. She took a minute to cobble together a story appropriate for the child of the only man she’d ever wanted to marry. “Zoey, some careers demand as much time and energy as a marriage. It’s not fair to short-change a boss, or a husband and kids.”

“Oh.” Zoey’s face fell.

“Don’t look so glum. Not all careers require time away from family. You have a lot of careers to choose from, and years to pick one. I’ll go get Erma if you set out what we need for grilled cheese sandwiches.”

“Gosh, we didn’t wash the breakfast dishes.”

“I told your dad I’d only run the dishwasher after supper, to conserve water. You probably know all about the drought?”

“Brother, do I. Dad thinks I should take a three-minute shower instead of a bath.” Zoey made a face. “I like to read in the bathtub. You can’t read in the shower.”

J.J. laughed. “You’re a girl after my own heart. I also light votive candles and settle in my tub with a book and a glass of wine. See, that shows I’m too self-indulgent to do right by a husband and kids.”

“No, you’re not.” Zoey shook her head.

J.J. went to Erma’s room, feeling hollow. The sad truth was that the more time she spent with Zoey, the more J.J. regretted not being a mother.

“Erma? Good. You’re awake. Zoey wants soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch.”

“That girl would eat grilled cheese seven days a week.” Erma covered a yawn even as she levered herself into a sitting position. “Ow, ow, ow!” She grabbed her hip. “I’m okay lying down. The minute I bend my hip to sit, it feels like someone stabbed me. Not that I really know what it feels like to be stabbed,” she muttered.

“You’re probably tired of me saying that healing takes time.” J.J. steadied the wheelchair. “It’s all I can say. That and I’m sorry you’re in pain.”

Erma eased out of bed into the chair. “The doctor did tell me I’d be laid up four to six weeks. I didn’t want to believe he was right. It looks like he might know what he’s talking about, so I should get better at working this contraption. Wait here, Jill. If I can’t manage on my own in the bathroom, I’ll holler.”

“I don’t mind lending a hand.”

“I’ve been taking care of myself for over fifty years and taking care of this family more than half of that. Needing help goes against the grain.”

J.J. understood, so she straightened the bed while she waited. Erma managed, and even combed her hair.

“Why don’t you phone the clinic and ask about your medicine while I get the soup going?” J.J. said as they entered the kitchen. She handed Erma her cell phone and the pill bottle.

“I need the phone number off that yellow invoice,” Erma said, pointing to the counter.

Zoey retrieved the paper and gave Erma a hug.

J.J. half listened to Erma’s side of the conversation while she sliced cheese. “Then it’s okay to take one pill during the day and two at bedtime?” Erma asked. From the way her head went up and down like a bobblehead doll, J.J. could tell those were the revised directions.

“I like what you did with your hair,” Erma said to Zoey once she was off the phone.

“J.J. fixed it two new ways. She used a curling iron first. Do you think I can buy one?”

“You can ask your dad.”

They sat down to lunch. “I feel better already knowing I can cut back on my pills,” Erma said. “I wouldn’t have questioned the doctor. Thanks for nudging me, Jill.”

“Do you want to be called Jill or J.J.?” Zoey asked.

“Either. I answer to ‘Hey, photographer’ a lot, too,” she said, laughing.

Erma gestured with half her sandwich. “Jill is such a pretty name. Why use initials? They sound harsh.”

“Initials sound more professional. When I started out in this business, a helpful magazine editor told me a name can make the difference in being selected or not.”

“Seems weird,” Zoey said. “Erma, if you feel better, can J.J. drive us to town for ice cream?”

“I don’t feel that peppy. You girls go ahead without me.”

J.J. was proud of Zoey, who was the first to say, “No, we can’t go off and leave you alone.”

So they all stayed home and spent a pleasant afternoon by the pool.

Later, after a light salad supper, Erma said, “If I wait to take my night pills, I’ll be awake longer. Is anyone up for a game of dominos?”

“If you teach me,” J.J. said. “I’ve never played.”

Zoey ran to get the box and J.J. cleared the table. She soon discovered they were both cutthroat players. “I can’t think as fast as you add up the spots,” she said halfway through the game. “Zoey, you must be a whiz at math.”

Erma reached over and patted Zoey’s arm. “She’s a whiz at everything. This girl gets straight
A
s. Her dad is so proud of her. Me, too.”

Zoey blushed and ducked her head. Erma turned to J.J. “I said it before, but I’ll say it again...it’s nice having you around. You’re what Zoey needs.” Erma then muttered half under her breath, “And Mackenzie, too.”

J.J. bypassed that comment. “Are we going to finish this game? If not, I’m ready to call it a night. I can barely keep my eyes open.”

Erma won the round, and Zoey put the game away before going upstairs to bed. J.J. got Erma water to take her pills and settled her for the night. Then she loaded the washing machine, hoping that running it at the same time as the dishwasher wasn’t using too much water. She sat on the patio until it was time to switch loads, then went out again with a glass of wine while the first load dried. It wasn’t until after she’d folded the towels and crossed the patio in the moonlight that she thought about meeting Mack out there. And wow, his kiss.
Was she what he and Zoey needed?
Recalling his reaction, sadness overtook her.

* * *

T
HE
CATTLE
WERE
always restless following a move. Mack, Benny and the wranglers took turns in pairs riding through the herd during the night. Eldon played a harmonica, and the animals seemed to stop milling to listen. The sound soothed Mack, too. He’d always loved spending hours out with the cattle.

As the sun rose on a new day, Benny and Mack met on a knoll overlooking the green valley, now awash with red-coated cows. “What do you think, Benny?”

“They’ll calm down once they discover there’s water in the river.”

Mack leaned on his saddle horn. “They seem extra edgy to me. I’m going to leave Eldon and Trevor out here for another day. I need to get back to the ranch.”

“You’re the one on edge, Mackenzie.”

“Having Jill back messes with my head.”

“Your head, huh?”

“She’s just passing through, Benny.”

“Maybe she’d stay if some stubborn old mule would ask her.”

Mack loosened his reins. “I’m going down to make coffee. Then we need to round up strays and do a count. I want to be back to Turkey Creek by noon.”

* * *

THE
NEXT
MORNING
,
Erma got up to try J.J.’s attempt at French toast. Oddly, J.J. missed bantering with the men at breakfast.

Zoey said, “I got up early. Daddy said if I feed the horses and chickens and gather eggs without complaining, he’ll think about getting me a cell phone when school starts.”

“Young lady, you should help with chores without having to be bribed,” Erma said.

Zoey grimaced as she brought her plate to the counter.

J.J. stacked the dirty dishes. “Zoey, the vet said we should turn the cow and her calf out to pasture after feeding her this morning. Do you want to do that now?”

“I don’t know which pasture since all the other cows are up at the summer range. Dad and Benny should be home this afternoon. Will it hurt to leave the cow and her calf in the barn and let my dad put them where he wants them?”

“I guess not.” J.J. rinsed their breakfast dishes while Zoey emptied the dishwasher. “Should we wait until the men show up before we eat lunch?”

Erma, who still seemed groggy, shrugged. “You can do up a Jell-O salad now, and serve it with tuna sandwiches. That’ll keep if for some reason they don’t get back until later.”

“Okay,” J.J. said. “I saw packs of gelatin in the pantry. Anyone have a request for what kind?”

“Orange with mandarin oranges. Erma fixes it like that,” Zoey said. “This is the bowl she uses. Do you make up three packs and two cans of oranges?” she asked, leaning on the arm of Erma’s wheelchair.

“If all the men come in I’d double that.”

“You must cook boatloads of food,” J.J. said. “Do you ever run out of ideas?”

“It’s routine,” Erma said. “I like to cook more than cleaning house or doing mountains of dirty laundry. Speaking of laundry, did I dream I heard the washer and dryer running last night?”

“I ran a load of jeans and also towels. I folded everything and left stacks on the dryer. I’ll put another load in now. Shirts,” she said, pausing to see if anyone objected. No one did.

“I believe I’ll have one of you wheel me out to the patio while you do morning chores,” Erma said. “I’m so used to running in and out that yesterday I felt cooped up.”

“I’ll set you up out there with a pitcher of iced tea if Zoey grabs the egg baskets. There, does this look right?” J.J. asked.

Zoey peered into the Jell-O bowl. “Looks yummy. I love the smell of oranges, don’t you, J.J.?”

“Orange is nice. I like vanilla, too. And cinnamon. There may be an orange scent to the shampoo I told you about. I’ll send you some to try.”

“You’d send me stuff all the way from New York?” Zoey watched J.J. make room in the refrigerator for the bowl.

“It’s no big deal. Working with models like I do, I see the latest, greatest products. My salon can order almost anything on the market.”

“I can’t imagine having so many choices,” Erma said, gazing at Zoey. “We’re lucky the general store stocks tried-and-true products that don’t cost a mint.”

Zoey rolled her eyes, prompting J.J. to recall the girl’s earlier remark about shampoo from the general store. “I like my hair to smell good,” she said. “Specialty products offer more variety.”

“Huh,” Erma responded. “I’ll grab the pitcher of tea while you load the washer. Then we can go outside. It’s gonna be a scorcher. There’s a breeze, but a hot one. We may only stay by the pool a little while.”

For early spring, the heat felt oppressive. J.J. parked Erma in the shade and said to Zoey, “If you want to feed the livestock, I’ll go straight to the chicken coop. Erma’s right about it being stifling. Let’s divide up the chores so we’ll finish faster and be back in the shade sooner.”

“Suits me. Don’t worry if there aren’t as many eggs today, J.J. When it gets superhot the hens don’t lay as many.”

“I don’t blame them.” J.J. laughed. “The roosters get to strut around catching a breeze while the hens have to sit on those warm nests.”

That comment made Zoey giggle.

They met again within half an hour outside the barn. “Hey, we’re both done,” Zoey exclaimed, blotting her sweating forehead on her arm. “Race you to the patio. I hope there’s still ice in that pitcher of tea.”

“You go on. I don’t want to risk breaking any eggs. You were right—I only got one full basket instead of two.”

Zoey slowed her steps. “I can wait and walk with you.”

“No, no. Go ahead. Pour me a glass of tea.” Zoey, who didn’t need a second urging, took off at a dead run. J.J. shook her head, wishing she had as much energy. As she neared the patio, she noticed puffs of dust rising in the distance. She watched as the line moved toward the ranch. Setting her basket of eggs on the table, she nudged Erma. “Look to the west. Do you think someone is moving a herd? Or could it be a dust storm building? We had those when I lived in Lubbock. This land is so flat and dry I imagine they’d be fiercer here.”

Erma shaded her eyes. “Mercy.” She gripped J.J.’s forearm. “That’s not dust, its smoke. A grass fire. Headed our way. I don’t mean to alarm you, but three weeks ago, a rancher south of town lost his barn in a grass fire.”

“I
am
alarmed,” J.J. said, digging her cell phone out of her pocket. “Should I call the local fire department? Surely someone needs to know.”

“Call 9-1-1 and report its location relative to Turkey Creek Ranch. They put out an alarm and all the available ranchers gather out there with water barrels and wet gunnysacks. They form a chain and beat back the flames. We’d better make tracks outta here, Jill. Dang, what a time for our menfolk to be away.”

J.J. held up a hand to quiet Erma, and reported the fire as concisely as she could to the dispatcher on the phone. “They’ll sound an alarm and get firefighters and ranchers right on it,” she said, pocketing her phone. “Erma, we can’t leave without wetting down some of this area in case fire reaches the ranch before they can put it out.”

“What can we do?” Erma asked. “A woman, a girl and a hurt old lady.”

Zoey started to cry. She scooted her chair around and tucked her head against Erma’s shoulder. “I don’t want our house to burn down.”

“Listen,” J.J. said. “Let’s collect some important things from the house while we have time. Mack’s pickup is here. Erma, do you know where he keeps his keys? We can load up the bed. I’ll park it on the main road, and I can connect those hoses I saw in the barn, too. You and Zoey wet the barn and house siding while I take the horses, the cow and the calf to the creek.”

“Mack leaves his keys in his truck,” Erma said. “The ranch records are on the laptop computer on his office desk. Zoey, you know where the suitcases are in the hall closet. Jill’s right, we each need to pack a bag with essentials. Now get going.” She passed Zoey the egg basket.

The girl hesitated until J.J. said she’d meet her in the kitchen. Casting a last glance at the gray puffs she now knew were smoke, J.J. wheeled Erma toward the house. “We have some time,” she told the others. “The fire line is still quite a ways out from the ranch.”

Chapter Seven

“I’m scared,” Zoey said, hauling two suitcases into Erma’s room. “If our house burns down, where will we live?”

J.J. took one suitcase, opened it and set it on Erma’s bed. She opened the lower dresser drawers to make it easier for Erma to get her belongings. “We’ll do everything we can to keep that from happening, Zoey.”

“I want Daddy.”

She wasn’t alone on that score.
“I know, honey. We can try to call him after we collect everything and move his pickup to safety. Your dad said some of the summer pasture is out of cellular range. Although, if he and Benny are headed home, he may be closer to a cell tower. You can try calling him from the house phone after we get the pickup packed up. Regardless, Zoey, he can’t help until he gets back, so we need to prepare. Okay?”

Zoey nodded, but still seemed frozen to the spot.

J.J. handed the second suitcase to the girl. “The wildfire is still a ways off. Hurry...go pack some undies, pajamas, jeans, shirts...whatever fits in this bag. Bring it out to your dad’s pickup and I’ll meet you there. Erma, I’ll come back after I see to the animals.” J.J. gave Zoey a big hug before dashing out across the patio. She didn’t want to look at the creeping fire, but couldn’t help herself. If anything, the band stretched wider but still seemed like dust.

She ran to the barn. The two horses obviously sensed that something was amiss. They whickered and shifted restlessly in their stalls. Yesterday she had seen Zoey take lead ropes from a wall hook. Locating them, she grabbed two and looped one around the neck of each horse before leading the horses outside. The pinto snorted and his nostrils flared. J.J. wasn’t sure how far it was down to Turkey Creek. She’d gone there a couple of times in the past to make out with Mack. That was long ago, but thankfully landscapes didn’t change.

Only people did.

The stream was closer than she remembered. She considered wading across it to tie the animals to saplings on the other side. She was worried that if the fire reached this point and sparks jumped the creek, the horses might still be lost. Trusting that Mack could track them if they bolted, she freed the pair slapped their rumps so they’d cross the stream, and raced back to the barn. The cow and her calf were harder to budge. J.J. tugged and pulled and even cursed the heifer. Finally, she scooped up the gangling calf and jogged down to the stream, hoping the mother would follow.
She did.
Relieved, J.J. left them both at the water’s edge.

Panic rose when she thought about everything that might be lost. Mack’s family history was here. That spurred her to hurry and unlatch the chicken coop. She propped it open with a rock. If the fire didn’t reach the ranch, Mack might hate her for releasing all his livestock.
So be it.

Zoey was standing nervously next to the pickup. J.J. hauled two hoses out of the barn and asked, “Do you know where we can connect these?”

“There’s a faucet next to the front porch at the house, and... Oh, there’s another...a tall pipe out by the corral. I tried calling Daddy, but he didn’t answer. Where’s Erma?”

“I haven’t been back to the house. Would you go see if she’s ready and help wheel her out? I’ll connect these. Then if you and Erma begin soaking the buildings and the grass by the barn, I’ll grab more stuff from the house. Things like the family pictures hanging in the hall, and the laptop—”

“I didn’t pack my photo album,” Zoey broke in. “Or the picture of my mom. It’s on my nightstand.” Tears spilled over her freckles.

“Sweetie, run and get them now. And any important mementos you can carry. Listen. Sirens. If they make a fire break between us and the fire, we’ll probably do all of this preparation for nothing.”

“I hope so.” Zoey ran back to the house and J.J. uncoiled both hoses. She stretched them out full length and tightened their connectors to the faucets, giving each an extra wrench. Her head spun because there was so much to do.

Erma had wheeled herself to the patio and had managed, however awkwardly, to drag her suitcase along.

“Let me carry that. Erma, why didn’t you wait for me or Zoey? You’ll hurt your hip again. Here, take this hose. I’ll turn on the water and you spray as much of this side of the house and the surrounding ground as you can.”

Picking up the suitcase, J.J. detoured by the front of the house. After turning on the faucet, she set the suitcase in the pickup bed next to Zoey’s bag.

“Erma, I’m going in to rescue Mack’s family pictures. You mentioned his laptop. Can you think of anything else I need to grab for him?”

“He has a checkbook and ledger in his middle desk drawer. His clothes would be in his bedroom. If you can, grab a few things out of his closet. It’s good of you to think about his family photographs.”

J.J. took off for the house again at a run. In no time she returned, her arms piled high with photo albums and frames, and Mack’s jeans and shirts flapping from hangers. Over her shoulder was draped an old crocheted bedspread she’d spotted on a quilt rack in Mack’s bedroom. He had a couple of photographs on his wall, but she’d been too weighed down to grab them.

“I’d forgotten all about the bedspread,” Erma shouted over to J.J. “Mack will appreciate you saving it. It’s one of few things he has left that belonged to his mother.”

Zoey staggered out of the house, bowed under the weight of her treasures. J.J. noticed a couple of stuffed animals, red boots, some books and a photo album. Helping the girl put her load into the pickup, J.J. caught sight of an eight-by-ten framed photo of Faith Adams—well, Faith Bannerman. But the photo was premarriage. Faith wore a cap and gown. Judging by how young she looked, J.J. guessed it was her high school graduation picture. Taking care to cushion the glass frame between Zoey’s stuffed toys, J.J. wondered how she’d missed finding Mack and Faith’s wedding pictures. There hadn’t been any among the family portraits in the hall or the wedding photo albums.

“Zoey, I need you to turn on the water to the hose I connected by the corral. Wet the ground between the corral and barn. That entire area is dry grass. I’ll go move your dad’s pickup to the highway. Back soon.”

“Did you try calling my dad? Shouldn’t
we
leave now, too?”

“I’m pretty sure he and Benny are headed home by now. I think he’d want us to do everything possible to save the ranch before we go.”

“But he’d ride faster if he knew we’re in trouble.”

“I’ll phone as soon as I move his pickup. Come to think of it...I don’t have his cell number.”

Zoey rattled it off, and J.J. hoped she got it right over the roar of the pickup motor. She crossed the highway and parked in a pull-out on the opposite side. The fire would have to jump two lanes of asphalt to reach Mack’s pickup, she thought as she pocketed his keys. Returning at a run, she called the number Zoey had given her. Mack’s phone rang twice, then cut off. She tried a second time but it went straight to voice mail. When she attempted to leave a message all she got was static.

By now she felt grimy. Somehow she’d scratched the underside of one arm and also had a bloody gash on her right knee. She waved at Zoey and Erma, then darted into her room. J.J. contemplated whether it’d be smart to trade the shorts she wore for jeans. But that would mean tugging off her boots—precious time better spent helping wet the house and barn. She haphazardly tossed a few clothes in her bag and carried it and her camera bag outside. Turning her rented SUV around, she gauged how far away to leave it so she could still wheel Erma over the bumpy terrain, load everyone and scoot out to the highway if it seemed they’d lose the battle to the encroaching blaze.

For the first time she smelled smoke. Her stomach tensed. The gray line had moved closer and billowed higher. Now she could actually see red-orange flames licking along the ground amid the acrid odor driven toward them on the hot breeze.

“Erma, how are you holding up?” J.J. yelled, choking a little on the taste of smoke.

“I’m okay,” Erma said into the crook of her arm. “Look over there! La Mesa’s fire trucks are pumping water, and our neighbors are trying to beat out the flames with soaked gunnysacks, just like I told you. There’s nothing there but dry grass, but I can’t tell if they’re making headway.”

“Me, either. We’ll do what we can, but we need to give ourselves time to make tracks out of here no matter what.”

“You won’t get an argument out of me. Right now I think the barn is in the most worrisome spot. I wish this danged hose was longer. I have more water pressure than Zoey does coming out of that well.”

“I didn’t see any other hoses in the barn. But I brought buckets. I’ll go fill them at the creek. If I saturate the ground around the small corral, maybe the rails won’t catch fire. We’ll have to hope that and Zoey’s efforts will stop the flames short of the barn.”

“Jilly, dear, don’t be killing yourself hauling water. It’s not far down to the creek, but it’s all uphill coming back.”

J.J. heard the slight wheeze in Erma’s voice and feared the smoke was getting to the older woman. She debated loading everyone up right now. But the line of fire moving steadily toward Mack’s barn seemed to be getting ahead of the people fighting it.

Dashing back to the kitchen, J.J. wet three dish towels and hurried outside again. She tied one around Erma’s nose and mouth and the second around Zoey’s face, taking the third for herself.

“Did you get Daddy on his cell?”

J.J. shook her head. “I tried twice, kiddo.” She hated to see how Zoey’s shoulders slumped.

It dawned on her that the pool was much closer than Turkey Creek, so she took her buckets there. In spite of how the flagstone hurt her knees when she dropped down, she filled both buckets and ran as quickly as she could to the corral. She dumped the water on the yellowed grass around the posts most in danger from the approaching fire. She repeated the process several times until her back and arms ached and her legs shook, threatening to give out.

The last time she passed Zoey, who was still valiantly spraying water on the lower part of the barn and the ground between it and the corral, the girl slipped the towel off her mouth. “J.J., I’m hot and tired. Can we please get out of here?”

Skidding to a stop, J.J. took note of Zoey’s red-rimmed eyes and figured her own must look as bad. A fire truck lumbered through the pasture that led to the creek, and J.J. heard the empty pumper sucking up creek water.

Nodding, unable to speak through the thickening smoke mixed with tears that clogged her throat, she set down her buckets and propped Zoey’s still-running hose through one handle so it would continue to spray the barn planks after they left. Looping an arm around Zoey’s shoulders, they hastened to Erma.

“We have to go,” J.J. said. She turned off Erma’s hose because the people fighting the blaze had pretty much stamped out the fire headed for the house. The corral and barn still sat in its path. J.J. was afraid that if the barn caught, flying embers could ignite the house. She banished her fear. “We gave it our best shot,” she said, her voice little more than a rasp as she took the handles of Erma’s wheelchair with smoke-blackened hands, and the three of them hustled to the SUV.

Zoey climbed into the backseat and buckled in. She buried her face in the wet towel while J.J. boosted Erma into the passenger seat, collapsed the wheelchair and tossed it into the back. She slid behind the steering wheel, noticing how filthy her bare legs were, but just before she closed the door, she heard a dog barking.

“It’s Jiggs!” Zoey dropped her towel and released the catch on her seat belt. “Daddy’s home! Daddy’s home,” she shouted, flinging open the back door.

“Wait,” J.J. implored, but it was too late. Zoey had already burst out of the truck, falling to her knees in the gravel parking strip to greet the collie.

Mack and Benny must have galloped their horses around the pool and across the patio. They bore down on the SUV. Mack was first to dismount, and was nearly bowled over by Zoey, who’d scrambled up and launched herself at him with arms widespread.

“You’re covered in soot. What the hell?” He met J.J.’s eyes with fury as he lifted Zoey back into the SUV. “I gave you credit for having good sense, Jill. I need to help fight this fire. Do you suppose you could manage to get my family out of imminent danger? Oh, and take Jiggs and our horses.” He snapped his fingers until the dog bounded in next to Zoey. Gathering the reins of his and Benny’s lathered horses, Mack tied them to J.J.’s back bumper. “And where’s my pickup?”

J.J. stabbed a finger toward the main road where the rear of his pickup was barely visible. Her throat was so parched she had no voice left to defend herself. He slammed both open doors of her SUV and she jumped. Mack clearly expected her to follow his imperious order, because he turned away and ran to help Benny unroll a long, fat blue hose from the pool’s pump to the corral. Within seconds J.J. saw water gush out of the hose to flood the whole interior of the small corral. She put the SUV into gear and realized how much her palms hurt from being rubbed nearly raw by the bucket handles—she’d lost track of how many heavy buckets of water she’d carried from the pool to the corral.

“They’re using the pool’s back-flush system,” she whispered to Erma. “Why didn’t I think of that?” She underwent a coughing fit that slowed their departure.

Erma patted her back. “Mack doesn’t know what you’ve done, Jill. Put yourself in his shoes. Grass fires burned out two ranches earlier this spring. I’m sure he and Benny saw the fire from a ways out. They’d know the ranch is in its path. Fear drove them to ride hard. Look how sweaty those horses are.”

“Yeah,” Zoey said from the backseat. “Daddy sometimes yells at me if he’s afraid I’d get hurt doing something. He always says he’s sorry and he doesn’t stay mad, because he loves me.”

J.J. drove to the main highway and parked. She was shaking too hard to go farther, and she didn’t want to drag the plodding horses.

“Are you all right?” Erma asked in a low voice.

J.J. scrubbed a trembling hand over her face. “Belated reaction to a crisis. Or possibly from Jiggs’s cold nose in my ear,” she said, trying to make light of her wooziness as she reached back to nudge the dog away.