A Whisper in the Mountains: A Gnatty Branch Farm Novel

By Susan D. Schadler

A hidden secret can mend a broken life. A still, small voice changes everything.

Jesse English returns to the mountain home that made her feel safe and loved and strong. She prays that the unsettling thoughts of surviving cancer but not surviving marriage will be scattered by the mountain winds. But even here, Jesse must fight scandalous,

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trilogy Christian Publishing
• Release date: Apr 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685563578

Susan D. Schadler

Susan D. Schadler experienced a happy childhood visiting her grandparent's farm in the Eastern mountains of Kentucky. She followed in her family's steps and entered the education profession, teaching high school and university classes of English and Education. She lives with her husband, Larry, on their own farm, where they share the love of God, each other, their land, and especially their Brittany named Bentley.Visit her at susandschadler.com.

Book preview

Acknowledgments

I am grateful to the people at Trilogy who have shared this publishing partnership with me.

To Rhett Hartwell and Jody Patton. Both of you have been so encouraging from the initial acceptance call through all of the production stages. I knew you were just a quick email away. Your kindness and professionalism have guided me through a new experience that I had wanted to have for a long time. I felt you cheering me on to completion. Thank you.

To the World Mission Media editor and Trilogy designer. Thank you for the fine-tuning and the brilliant skills you shared.

I truly feel God placed us together to complete this book.

A Whisper in the Mountains…

A Gnatty Branch Farm Novel

Prologue

No, no, my dear God, no, please no!

Phillip Hodges stiffened in his driver’s seat, clutching the steering wheel, as he watched the new red 57 Chevy convertible speeding towards him, then hastily swerve to avoid his stopped truck. The car that he knew belonged to his employer’s son left the narrow mountain road—airborne. Hodges jumped from his truck listening to the car crash through the bushes and the trees. He hurried to the edge of the rough paved road in time to see the car hit the bottom and roll, landing on its side against a large rock. Maybe someone could have survived? Hodges started down the mountainside, half running and half sliding. He was almost to the car when an explosion threw him backwards several feet. He recovered and ran to the burning car. The unbearable heat did not stop him from trying to see inside.

Philip Hodges climbed on top of the rock that held the burning car just in time to see the flames engulf the young man in the driver’s seat. He saw that image until his own death twenty years later.

Chapter 1

"Why did she get the farm? Cathleen Dalton was my grandmother too. I only received $500! It cost me more than that to come back to this atrocious place!" Her words hissed towards the attorney sitting across from her at his desk. His expressionless face, developed with years of practice, so irritated Regina Dalton she began to see it in various twisted manifestations.

Cathleen was very specific. Jesse is to receive Gnatty Branch Farm and all its assets. Mrs. Dalton had a few minor bequests. Everything else is the property of Jesse English. I don’t know how many other ways I can tell you the same thing. You have a copy of the will, as you are entitled. James Allen stared at the hysterical young woman as she glared at him. A chilling unexpected smile appeared on her face.

She rose in one slithering movement and said in a more controlled voice, You haven’t heard the last from me. In an abrupt turn, she left the office, slamming the door.

Can’t believe they are related, James Allen said aloud to his empty office. He returned his attention to the stack of papers on his desk. A few minutes later, he raised his eyes to the closed office door. He thought of Cathleen Duggan Dalton. Catey to her numerous friends. Such a fine woman. She had blue eyes that remained quite beautiful when she used them to hold a person’s attention—eye-to-eye. James had been entranced by those eyes for decades.

Catey had asked her attorney, her friend after all the years he had taken care of her few legal concerns, to her home at Gnatty Branch Farm just a few weeks before she passed. She fixed him hot brewed tea and fresh strawberry scones. The scones were a secret family recipe her mother had given her in Ireland. Catey made the scones for special church suppers and for after-the-funeral dinners. James sat at her familiar kitchen table and discussed her will and final wishes, as she had called them.

"James, you just might have a wee bit of trouble, as my mama used to say, with my will. With the Gnatty Branch part of it. Robert and I were blessed with three children. Sometimes it was a blessing. She grinned that wonderful crooked, knowing smile. Sometimes having three children—especially when those three children weren’t children anymore—was simply a pain in the backside! Would you care for another scone? I know they are a particular favorite of yours, James."

James laughed and passed his empty plate to her. "Catey, don’t you worry. I will make sure that no one can take anything from you after you are gone that you didn’t plan to give them. Another scone would be grand! By the way, I didn’t see this recipe left to anyone in the family. I thought you always promised to pass it on to someone after you were gone."

My Livvy and my Mary Cara already have the recipe. She smiled. "They promised to make a special large batch for after my funeral. You will see in my wishes that I want to have my friends come back here to Gnatty Branch and enjoy the scones baked by my daughters and the tea from the canister I have waiting in the cupboard. My girls know which cups and saucers to use. I don’t want paper plates! They are willing to do this last thing for their mother, although we did have a few tears between the three of us as we discussed my request. Only natural. A few tears that show we love each other and will miss each other until we meet again in heaven.

James, my Olivia and Mary won’t cause any trouble to you. You know that. We had a good visit before Mary and Brendan left on their traveling. My girls understand why I want Jesse to have the farm and why I am not leaving it to one or both of them. I don’t want it sold like David or his wife, Anna, and their Regina wanted. Can you believe they came here last month wanting me to sell the farm to them and then move into a rest home in town? They had brochures! I couldn’t believe they would have the nerve. Well, yes, I guess I do. David and his wife and daughter never wanted anything to do with this farm or being in the mountains or being with their family. My Robert was so hurt that his only son seemed to hate the very land and people that meant so much to him.

Catey, I wasn’t going to tell you, but they also stopped by my office. They were interested in whether you had a current will. They wanted to know what was left to them.

Catey held her cup and sat it down without taking a sip. She stared above James’ head at the mantle full of family pictures. Did they now?

Of course, I didn’t tell them anything they wanted to know.

I know you wouldn’t, James. I guess a mother always hopes that the bad she sees in her own children will work itself out. I don’t think David will lose that sense of greed. The trouble is that Anna and now Regina seem to strengthen that sense to take all you can get and more. Maybe after I am gone, something will happen in his life. I don’t know. I haven’t stopped praying for him. I pray for all of my family. She reached for James’ hand. I want you to know I also pray for my friends, and I thank my Father in heaven that I have friends that are good people. People that can be trusted. I’m sorry, and I’m ashamed you have to see that my own son is not one of those people.

James thought of the brash young woman who had just left his office. She was not going to disturb the final wishes of his friend Cathleen Dalton.

"Mother, I told you this would be a waste of my time. These mountain people don’t care if you try to reason with them. They are stubborn. That lawyer said these were her wishes. Her wishes? What about our wishes? She’s gone. She wouldn’t listen when she was alive. We tried to make things easier for her. We offered to take care of the farm. She could move to town in some retirement place. You even found one for her. Regina stood on the sidewalk outside James Allen’s office in Kincaide, causing people to stare at her as they passed. She didn’t realize how loud her voice had become. Her softened voice rose again as she answered her mother’s questions. No, Mother, I haven’t talked to anyone else. Not Jesse. I wanted to see if we could arrange something without getting involved with her. My cousin must think she finally won everything she ever wanted. It’s not fair! Regina held her cell phone as if she were ready to sling it into the road. Mother, get him to dig. We need more information if we are going to get the farm. I want to see a development that will devastate these mountain hicks. What does my father say should be our next step? I can hear his voice, Mother. What now?"

Jesse stretched out her arms to her sides, raised her face to the sun, and started to turn in slow, deliberate circles, feeling the breeze gently lift her hair. Oh, Father, how good this feels. I had forgotten.

Her twirling began when she was a little girl, about six. Her grandfather had laughed and clapped for her so many years ago. She could hear him telling her, Faster, little Jess. Now, turn the other way. Go the other direction so you won’t get so dizzy! Jesse had not known his thoughts at the time; not until much later would she know that as Robert Dalton watched her entertaining him, he had thanked God for the mother who had let his daughter go and given him a sweet little granddaughter.

Each time Jesse circled around today, she recalled the feeling of the little child who loved spending her time outside in the sun, the mountains, and the cool wind. She felt the abandonment of a little girl whose only responsibilities were to entertain herself and be back home before her mother or grandmother began looking for her for lunch or supper. The circles ended, and she swayed in the tall summer grasses dancing in the mountains that had surrounded her during all the seasons of her life. Jesse brought her arms down to encircle her body and smiled. She started a solitary waltz listening to the gentle music playing in her mind.

What would it be like to share a dance in the mountains with someone? To hear a whisper in the mountains from someone? Would someone else understand the magic of sharing God’s wondrous creation and moving gently and humming tunes while swaying and feeling the air—cool or warm or cold or hot? She wondered.

The sudden sound of a shot cracked the air. She froze. Then another shot. Jesse hid behind the large trunk of a nearby oak tree. She crouched, leaning against the comforting bark and listening to find the source of the noise, which was not always easy in this valley of trees and rocks and shrubs and flowering plants and fences. Sounds often ricocheted around the base of the mountains before reaching silence.

A third shot. This time a yelp joined the fracas. Jesse looked carefully around the tree toward the sound. She heard the sad whine of an animal that did not sound too far away. Moving as quickly and as quietly as possible, Jesse made her way to the noise that seemed to be a bit weaker each time it was uttered.

Just under a birch tree by the wooden fence that separated her property from Willow Creek Farm, Jessie found a whimpering beagle with blood seeping down his shoulder. He lay on his side trying to raise his head; his scared amber eyes looked at her as only a dog can.

It’s okay, boy. Don’t be scared. I’m not going to hurt you. Just be still. Let me see what’s happened here. Jesse knelt beside him and examined the wound, gently talking to him and lightly touching his shaking body. It looks like the bullet is still in there, sweet boy. I am going to have to get help. Hold on. I’ll try to be easy.

Jesse tenderly wrapped the dog in her jacket and picked him up. He let out a cry but offered no resistance. You know I am going to take care of you. Don’t worry, boy. Beagles have been some of my best friends, she looked up in the sky. Father, I need Your help. Show me what to do.

Coming through the woods to her house, Jesse listened for more shots and looked to find the person responsible for shooting a little dog. She was angry—and a bit scared.

Dr. Edward Cameron examined the beagle in his office in Kincaide. Jesse, good thing you found this little guy. That bullet did considerable damage. He needs surgery right away. Any idea who did this?

None. I was in a field just outside Willow Creek behind my farm and heard a few shots. No one should be around there shooting. Not this time of year. I admit that makes me a bit nervous.

It should! You never know who might be out wandering around where they shouldn’t be, Dr. Cameron looked at her over his glasses as he continued to examine the wound. I don’t see a collar. Do you know who owns him?

No, I’ve never seen him, she caressed his nose and under his eyes. He reminds me of Duke.

Dr. Cameron smiled. I thought the same thing when you walked in with him. Like old times seeing you with Duke coming to Kincaide to visit your grandmother. He was a good dog. How long has he been gone?

About three months. Not long before I moved back to the mountains. I miss him every day, Jesse’s eyes filled.

The really special ones don’t ever leave us completely. You know that. This little guy—should we call him Duke for right now?—will be okay. You had him here in good time. The surgery should last about an hour as long as everything is as I think it will be.

I think Duke is a great name. Thank you, Doctor. Call me on my cell when you know anything. I am going to see the Sheriff. Just to let him know.

Good idea. And, Jesse, you be careful.

I always am. Thanks. Take good care of little Duke. Jesse looked at his sweet eyes before leaving him. To herself, she prayed, Father, please be with that little dog. He is one of Yours. Thank You for letting me find him.

Jesse sat in the sheriff’s office drinking a cup of coffee. Sheriff Tim Johnston and Jesse had been friends since she first started visiting her grandparents when she was a little girl. She had campaigned for him ten years ago when he decided to come back to Kincaide and run for office.

Jesse, we have had reports from locals seeing strangers on the road around Willow Creek. I have sent deputies to investigate a couple of times. So far, we haven’t found anything out of the ordinary.

Isn’t it hard to find anything on that property? It’s huge, and the forests are dense, Jesse offered.

I think about ten square miles. I looked it up at the courthouse one time. That is roughly 6,400 acres, Tim added. That’s a lot of land for someone to own—especially someone who doesn’t live near it. And it would be an even bigger pain if the Kenney family didn’t help us and the fire department take care of their family’s estate.

I have heard that they donate equipment to both departments. And money to hire extra people?

"They call the money grants. The sheriff’s department has one more full-time deputy and two more part-time deputies, thanks to our grant. We also have three new cruisers, an SUV, and two canine units, thanks to the generosity of the Kenneys. Ian Kenney makes an appointment to see me every six months or so with a proposal. We discuss the state of his estate. I remind him we are not his personal security team. He assures me that he doesn’t view us in this way, and the papers his lawyer draws up are completely legal. Ian was the level-headed one of the family."

I remember Ian. I had a bit of a crush on him at one time, Jesse grinned. The handsome older boy in college. I would see him at church or at the games when we would be visiting here on the weekends. He was friendly every time. He didn’t seem to be a snob or thought that his family should have special privileges just because his great-great—whatever was here first to get a big chunk of land and then made a ton of money in the coal mines. Grandma Cathleen liked him. Tim, I know you would never do anything illegal or immoral with the Kenneys or anyone else. I’m sure that estate is a headache for your department and the fire department.

Did you hear Jerry just bought a new fire truck? One that he says can take care of a seven-story building. Of course, we don’t have a seven-story building in Kincaide, but we are ready for it!

Tim and Jesse laughed at Jerry, another friend they grew up with. He can get carried away, but his men respect him. There haven’t been any serious accidents in his department since Jerry Weaver became chief.

He is a good guy. It’s nice to know the Sheriff and the Fire Chief as personal friends. Makes me feel safer. Remember when we would sneak in to see Willow Creek when we were in what—junior high? And remember Anita Kenney who thought she was ‘hot stuff’ because her grandfather was Judge Kenney.

We, boys, called her other names! That I won’t share with you.

I appreciate that! Jesse slapped his arm.

"When she married, she wanted to be called Anita Kenney Jones because she wanted to make sure everyone knew she was a Kenney. I guess plain Jones wasn’t good enough."

She was a year ahead of us in school. I liked her clothes, but I didn’t like her. Of course, she would never talk to me since my grandparents lived on a farm. But Ian was good-looking. And the other boy—Harry. He was the youngest? I don’t remember seeing him very often when I was here.

Tim filled up both coffee cups. Jesse mocked, Thanks, Tim, but this coffee is not really that great.

Hey, it’s hot, and it’s free. Maybe you could make the next pot?

Jesse walked to the coffee counter and dumped the thick black liquid down the drain and began to prepare a new pot. Maybe if you cleaned this every now and then…

You sound like my wife.

Thank you.

Jesse sat back down while the coffee brewed. Now, what about Harry?

I don’t know much about Harry Kinney. He is a lot younger than we are, and I believe his family sent him away to school for some reason. I’m not really sure. Ian never mentions his family except in general terms. I get the feeling Ian would like to return to Kincaide. Something keeps him away.

That’s too bad. Willow Creek is a beautiful place, and it could be a magnificent home again. I like to wander over there sometimes, as we did when we were kids. Remember, we were told not to go there, so, of course, we had to see what we were missing. And when we did sneak in, we really thought we were pulling something over on the adults. Most of the time, we only entered on a dare or a double-dog dare. Willow Creek. What a thorough source for ghost stories and strange tales. You know we, mountain people, like our specters and spirits! she laughed. My grandfather told great legends about people and things that happened in the mountains and the woods and at the Kenney estate. What I don’t care for, though, is hearing gunshots. None of his stories involved ghosts with guns!

I don’t like it either. I wonder if that little dog wandered into something it shouldn’t have. I will send a couple of deputies out to your house. Can you show them where you found the dog?

Of course, Sheriff. I am going home now. Ask them to come to the barn. I am late giving my mare her injection. She had a little trouble foaling last week. Dr. Cameron wants her to stay in the barn for a couple of weeks. Then she will be fine. He is a great vet, just like his dad was.

Becky took Tim, Jr., and the new puppy to him last week. Timmy cried louder than the puppy did when Doc gave him a shot. They both got treats, so Timmy told Pete, the pup, that the doctor was okay. Becky laughed so hard telling the story, after Tim and Pete were tucked away in bed, of course. Timmy told his little brother, Ryan, that he needed to come next time to the vet with Pete. Then they could all three get treats!

Oh, how sweet! Becky told me to come over and see Pete.

Maybe come for dinner next week. Becky will call you.

Sounds good. She stood up to leave.

Wait, Jesse. Seriously, you be careful out there by yourself. I don’t know why you wanted to take over all of that responsibility alone. It’s too secluded for one person and too much work.

Tim, I could not imagine strangers living on my family’s land. I practically grew up there. You used to come to play with me, and so did Jerry and his brothers and sisters. We would have the best time. I think about playing hide-and-go-seek in the orchard. Catching lightning bugs to put in a mason jar. Pouring salt on slugs to make them shrink up. Some of the things weren’t too nice, but we didn’t know. We were just experiencing the mountains and the farm!

"We, boys, liked when you came home! We talked that you should just move here and go to school with us. You were the best sister around."

Yeah, until you would chase me with snakes! Jesse shivered. I made the mistake of letting you know I was afraid of them.

Tim laughed, Yes, ma’am, you did! That was great.

Very funny… try it again, and I will tell Becky!

But Jesse…

Tim, Gnatty Branch is perfect for me and early retirement and a new career. My writing has been more inspired; I guess this is the way I could describe it. I do have plenty of work, but I enjoy it most of the time. I will deny what I am about to tell you if you ever bring it up at my sanity hearing, but I feel my family around me out there. When I am in the garden, I hear Papaw telling me to space the seed a little farther. Or I see Mom and Dad walking, holding hands in the apple orchard. I don’t feel scared or lonely. It’s my home. I know I can’t get to everything that needs to be finished, but I truly do enjoy being on our land. Something about those mountains, you know! Jesse grinned at him.

Yeah, I know. Just be careful. Do you have that pistol I gave you ready to use if you need it?

Tim, I appreciate you worrying about me. You were always like the big brother I didn’t have, but I don’t feel comfortable with the pistol.

Plan to be available Saturday afternoon. We are going to target practice. And no arguments! Becky said she would help you with some pointers too.

Yes, Sheriff!

Jesse turned up her favorite radio station as she turned down Abram’s Creek Road on her way home to Gnatty Branch Farm. She was thinking about Tim. What a good friend. The two of them had been more like brother and sister, never anything romantic. However, Tim had given her her first kiss. That night at the Halloween party at the Methodist Church, the young teenagers had planned to sneak outside to get a kiss and a brag. Only one couple at a time went out back while the rest covered for them if anyone started looking. Tim and Jesse had taken their turn out by the playground. After the kiss, they started laughing and poking each other. Their short one-night romance was over, never to be repeated. Of course, they couldn’t admit they had laughed hysterically when they came back in to join the others at the punch bowl. Everyone just sort of grinned and giggled. Come to think about it: no one had gone back out for a second kiss. The first one lasted a short time too. Maybe everyone had laughed!

Six years earlier, Tim had married Becky, a woman ten years older than he. They had met at a sheriff’s convention in Nevada. After a few flights to Nevada, they had surprised everyone when he brought Becky home. The people of Kincaide had welcomed her, even though some of them talked about the age difference. Tim and Becky started their family right away with two great little boys. Timothy, Jr., was five, and his brother, Ryan, had just turned three. They had their mother’s dark hair and their father’s easy smile.

Jesse felt blessed to have good friends and the mountains to surround her. She had told Tim a bit of a lie so he would not worry. Sometimes she was lonely, not often, but just sometimes, like this morning dancing in the mountains. If she could find someone who felt like she did about her land, she might consider sharing.

Jesse, this is Edward, Dr. Cameron. Duke’s surgery went well. He’s been in recovery for about half an hour. Are you going to take care of him, or do you want me to arrange for the Humane Society to pick him up?

Please don’t call them. I’ll be there as soon as he’s ready to come home. I suppose I do need to report that I found a dog, but I don’t want anyone to claim him.

I knew that would be your answer. Also, don’t worry about the bill; we’ll figure something out later when we determine who the owner is and who is responsible for shooting him.

Jessie hung up the phone, grateful that Duke was going to be okay and praying that he was a stray. She missed having a dog.

Frank Preston walked back to camp carrying his 22 rifle. That damn dog! I shot him but couldn’t get to him cause some woman came crashing in to save him.

You are going to have the whole freaking place in here, you stupid fool! Owen Ash jumped up with his harvesting knife in hand. I told you not to fire and not to run after it… you are nothing but a bloody idiot! Did you kill her too?

No, Owen, no. I didn’t know who was with her. I looked around and got lost. I won’t let it happen again. True terror showed in Frank’s eyes as the older, more experienced Ash came towards him. The horrific knife in his right hand.

So, no one followed you?

No, Owen, I swear. I swear. I swear on anything you say. I was real careful. I swear. I don’t know what got into me to run after that dog. I know you told me not to. I just did. Owen, don’t! Frank’s scream didn’t last long.

In an easy, natural motion, Owen ran his knife between Frank’s ribs right to the heart. As easy as skinning a deer. The same look in Frank’s eyes as he had seen when he came up on that doe. Captured surprise. Owen liked to go for the heart even when the animal was dead or nearly dead. Frank. Always useless, then a problem, now dead. Owen wiped his knife on Frank’s jeans. He liked to have things simple.

He stood there looking down at the lifeless heap deciding whether he should bury it or drag it to the back of the cave until he salvaged what he could. He looked around, marveling at the perfect spot to harvest ginseng, grow a little pot, maybe even brew a little shine like his daddy used to do at the mouth of a cave. Not too much smoke escaped. The cave had sheltered something else for eleven years. Nice used bills. About a hundred thousand of them. Now this idiot of a cousin. Owen had to think. Take his chances; no one will come looking and find more than a dog shooter? He didn’t shoot the dog. That woman. Should he take care of her, just to make sure? It would be easy to find out who she was. He could ask about his dog. He could even give her a reward. Owen laughed, thinking about how stupid women could be if you offered them just a little. They were so easy. That waitress. Dumb Tammy. But she had other natural characteristics. If she had just done what he had told her. What was her last name? He had spent eleven years trying to remember. It didn’t really matter.

Chapter 2

Hey, girl. It’s okay, Sundee. Hold still, girl. You know I won’t hurt you. Jesse stroked the mare’s neck as she was getting ready to give her the injection. Your little boy looks so good today. She smiled at the sorrel foal Rhett standing beside his mother. He was used to seeing Jesse in the stall and did not seem to mind her playing with his big ears. Jesse pressed the hypodermic needle into Sundee’s neck. Good girl. Dr. Cameron will be out to see you later this week. He might let you go back in the pasture. Let me check your water.

I guess being on your own makes you talk to anyone or anything that will listen, Tim Johnston laughed as he stood watching Jesse. What did you say earlier about a sanity hearing?

Jesse jumped. Tim, you rat! Sneaking up on me! Thanks so much for the heart attack! And yes, I do talk to my animals, and more importantly, they answer me—in their own ways.

You are going bonkers out here by yourself. We need to find you a man!

No, thanks. You and Becky tried that once before. That date still sends shivers down my spine! Jesse demonstrated with a visual shake. I’ll take care of that myself when I have some extra time. Who knows, maybe I already met him somewhere. Or maybe I just don’t need a man.

Whatever. Show me where you found the dog.

Where are the deputies?

Another call came in, so I came out here myself. Evelyn Henderson called about some smoke she saw on the other side of Willow Creek.

That’s scary. Much smoke?

I haven’t heard yet. Let’s go. I might get a call.

Sure. This way. Jesse led Tim to the opening by the creek, where she came out with the wounded dog. They walked further into the woods for about ten minutes. I think it was about here. I remember seeing some mountain laurel around a little creek and a grove of birch trees. Yes, here it is. There is some of his blood on those leaves. See it?

Yeah, I see. Tim pounded a metal fence post he had carried with him into the ground at the spot and tied a red plastic flag to it. Maybe my deputies can retrace the path the dog took to find out what he wasn’t supposed to find or see. Or maybe the dog will just tell you! Tim raised his eyebrow and pointed at her. Don’t come back out here for a while. Stay close to your house and barn. And please be aware of things around you. I have a bad feeling that something is going on out in these woods. And the sooner I can find out what it is, the better for all of us. So…

Thanks for worrying about me.

I couldn’t forgive myself if I lost the best hide-and-go-seek partner the county ever knew! And the best first kisser!

Oh, my gosh! I was just thinking about that on the way home. You were horrible!

I was? You had bubble gum in your mouth!

I did not! I remember you clonked my glasses with yours. It is a wonder we made contact at all! Did you ever tell Becky?

No way. She thinks my kisses are simply perfect!

Please! They laughed and punched each other’s arms again.

But honestly, Jess, you have to be careful right now until we find out who is messing around where he shouldn’t be. That is still private property. I can at least hold him for trespassing until we find out what is going on. Let’s go. I need to find out what Chet and Bill found out about the smoke.

Okay, but this was a good place to play when we were young. I think if there had been a gold medal for the best hiders and best seekers, we would have won. So much fun. So many good memories. We were so blessed as kids to get to grow up here in the mountains! Do you have time for a cup of coffee while you wait for the call?

Sounds good. Do you have anything sweet to go with it? Becky has me on a diet.

We’ll see. If you tell Becky, I will deny it!

They laughed and told more stories as they walked back to Jesse’s back porch steps and into her kitchen.

Don’t you keep this place locked?

Do you? she asked him as she prepared the coffee.

That’s different.

Because you are a man?

No, I have Becky!

Jesse laughed, She would shoot you if she knew you said that!

Really, Jess, you ought to think about maybe finding a roommate.

Male or female?

Tim threw a dishcloth at her as he said, You are hopeless!

Love you, too, Tim, she said as she caught it. Look what I found. Fresh blueberry muffins. Should we or not?

Do you have any honey or ice cream?

Deputy Chet Arless answered the sheriff’s call on the car radio. Cell phones didn’t always carry in the mountains. "Yes, Sheriff, the fire is out. It looks like some kids had a campfire that got out of control. They tried to extinguish it and did a fairly good job. Just some smoke. Everything is fine. There are three boys. The first one’s name is Ronny Carter. He’s a belligerent little imp. Didn’t care one bit to tell us who his dad is. A Rick Carter. He thought that would make us let him go. His