Page 7 of Home Changes
Allison lifted a finger. “Hold on, Edna. Something just knocked over my trash can.”
Edna was already backing toward the door. “Oh, girl, let me get out of here. You lock up. I know you’ve got your run with Kathy coming up. And now, remember, don’t you go spreading rumors. I’m just looking, not selling yet.”
Allison chuckled. “I got you, girl. I’m not saying a word.”
She followed Edna out the door, locked it behind them, and tugged the shade down to signal the bakery was closed.
Jogging back through the shop, she grabbed the old broom near the back door. If it were a groundhog, or worse, a raccoon, in her trash again, she would swat it clear to the next county.
She pushed open the door and froze.
The trash can lid lay discarded on the concrete. The bag she’d tossed in earlier, full of expired bread and pastries, was ripped open.
Carefully, Allison moved forward and peered into the can.
No raccoon. No groundhog. No critter in sight.
But the food?
Gone.
She glanced around the alley behind the store. Nothing else was missing or out of place. Nothing disturbed except the trash.
“What in the heck …” Kathy Marks jogged up just as Allison was circling the can. “You’re not ready yet?” Kathy asked, slowing to a walk.
“Just give me five seconds. Edna came in late, and then I thought I had a raccoon or skunk in the trash.”
Kathy took a quick step back. Then another. And another. “Raccoons and skunks? I don’t deal with either.”
Allison laughed, the tension easing from her shoulders. “We all remember what happened with your dogs and those skunks.”
Kathy held up both hands, fingers crossed. “Not for a long time, thank God.”
Allison sprinted up the back steps, tossed the broom inside, and grabbed her keys. Between thebread orders and Ken's visit, she’d already changed into her T-shirt and running shorts earlier in the afternoon.
Kathy stood by the back porch, recounting the details of a playground fight that had broken out earlier in the day.
By the time Allison had locked the back door and zipped her keys into her pocket, Kathy was still mid-story.
They took off down the street together at a comfortable jog, feet pounding the pavement in a steady rhythm.
It was just another day in paradise.
CHAPTER 3
Seth turned down the long gravel driveway that led to his childhood home. Gomer sat alert in the passenger seat, his dark gaze scanning the fields and trees as they approached the small, weathered house tucked against the edge of the property.
Damn, it hit him just how much the place needed attention. Desperately.
The white paint was peeling, flaking off in thin strips like dried leaves, and a few shingles were missing from the roof. He made a mental note to inspect the attic as soon as possible. If there was water damage up there, it could lead to a far worse problem.
Inside the house, his father had let things go. Sethwouldn’t call Chester a hoarder, but the man hadn’t thrown out anything that might one day prove useful since Seth’s mother had died. Stacks of cartons, bulging paper bags, old magazines, and random boxes cluttered the rooms. Bonfire fodder, all of it.
He’d work on it while he stayed with his dad. Seth had called as soon as he and Gomer landed in Rapid City to let Chester know they were on their way. Ken was stopping by later to give him a rundown on how his dad had been doing while he was gone.
As he pulled into the driveway, the front door creaked open, revealing Chester Hansen, squinting through the mesh of the screen door with his hands planted on his hips.
Seth got out and walked around the truck, letting Gomer hop down beside him. The old man watched them both with a mix of suspicion and confusion.
