Chapter 16 #2
“That’s a fine idea,” Young Tommy said. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but like I told you the other day, we look after our own.”
“I know you do.”
Morgan shook the sheriff’s hand and the deputy’s and watched while Jack put his wallet in his back pocket. Then he made a gesture with his head to indicate Jack might shake their hands, too, and show that there were no hard feelings about the local law just doing their jobs.
“No harm, no foul,” Jack said as he did, with only a slight shake in his voice.
They waved the sheriff and the deputy off, and Morgan stood in the open doorway and looked out on the snowy, frosty, sunshine-filled world. Already he could see clouds piling along the horizon, white curls over the bare treetops. Another blizzard was on its way, and he needed some fresh air.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m going to get my galoshes and put on my coat, and you and I are going to drive around town.”
When Jack raised his eyebrows, Morgan added, “Yes, we’re going to make nice with everyone. And we need to restock the kitchen before the next storm. We’re going to buy that ice cream I’ve been craving, and then we’re going to the Bean There to get some freshly ground coffee for you. And me.”
“Really?” Jack asked, a hint of a smile rising in his eyes.
“Yes, really,” Morgan said. “Look, I apologize for putting you in the middle of that. I wanted to avoid everyone in this stupid little town, but it’s becoming obvious to me that I can’t.
So we’re going to drive around, smile and wave at the people and make ourselves known, and then hunker down for the next blizzard. Okay?”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Jack was laughing at him in the way he had, that Morgan had come to know. A gentle, teasing laugh when Morgan was taking himself too seriously.
As Morgan turned, intending to put on his galoshes, he heard his phone ringing in the office.
“You get that,” Jack said. “I’ll warm up the truck.”
“Fine.” Irritated all over again, Morgan grabbed the phone from the desk and winced when he saw Mabel’s number, sorry as he could be that he’d ever shared his with her. “This is Morgan.”
“Hello, Morgan, this is Mabel,” she said in her brightest company voice. “I wanted to thank you for sending Nimble over—such a strange nickname—”
“It’s Jack, actually,” Morgan said, trying to deflect what was sure to be a rant about what was an appropriate name and what was an inappropriate one. “His name is Jack.”
Jack was an entirely different person from Nimble, and Morgan wanted to dig deeper into that, but for now, he had to deal with Mabel.
“Jack,” she said. “That’s nice. And he was nice, too, taking care of everything and petting Mister Rocket like they were old friends, and making himself small in the corner of my kitchen while he drank the hot chocolate I made for him.
” Her voice shook as she said this, as if the memory of dark-haired Jack in her kitchen was almost too much for her to bear.
“That was very kind of you,” Morgan said, his voice fading away as he thought about it all over again.
That he’d sent a strange young man over to offload a chore he wouldn’t have wanted to do even if he were capable of doing it.
Making her admit Jack into her little home without knowing who he was. Whether he meant her harm.
He, Morgan, was not an older woman living alone, so it had never occurred to him that it might be an issue. Lucky for everyone that Jack was a nice guy, but unlucky for everyone that Morgan was still an asshole.
“I apologize for not introducing him to you properly, but he’s a friend of mine, so—”
That was a lie. Well, it wasn’t a lie. Jack was his friend, but Morgan didn’t know him well enough to send him over to an old lady’s house, so he, Morgan, should be punished and soundly until he learned his lesson about being a nicer person.
“We’re going to be out and about today,” he said. “Is there anything you need? Anything we can do for you before the next blizzard shuts all of us in our homes again?”
“That’s very kind of you to ask.” He could hear the warm smile in her voice. “While Jack was here, I was finishing up baking a rhubarb crumble, but it’s way too much for Mister Rocket and me. I was wondering if you might want to stop by and take some of it with you.”
Normally Morgan would have scoffed and said no, imagining mangy dog hairs everywhere. He typically didn’t eat food other people had cooked for that very reason, but Jack had spoken so well of her kitchen—and besides, he needed to make amends.
“We’d love to,” he said in his best voice, the one he’d used back in Denver when introducing himself and shaking hands. “We’ll run our errands and be there in an hour or so. Will that work?”
“Mister Rocket and I will be waiting,” she said, as though Morgan had soothed her in all the right ways. “And if you’d like to warm up with some hot chocolate when you get here, I can make you some.”
“We look forward to it, Mabel,” he said with all the certainty he possessed, though it was not something he’d ever thought he’d be saying when he arrived in town for his aunt’s funeral. “Jack likes it sweet,” he added, though she probably already knew that. “We’ll see you soon.”