Daisy was okay with that. She beamed at the poodle, who was sitting next to Socrates, leaning against the basset’s sturdy, trustworthy shoulder. I was increasingly convinced that he’d pressed his paw—or more likely nose—to my phone’s screen, activating the panic button. The smear of doggy snot on the device seemed to be proof.
“I don’t suppose you want an accident-prone, sometimes thieving cat, do you?” I ventured. “Ms. Peebles is up for adoption.”
My offer was half-hearted. I had pretty much accepted that the wide-eyed feline would be part of an increasingly crowded tiny house. Tinkleston had tried to act like he didn’t care when Ms. Peebles had walked back through the door, but when I’d left for the party, the surly black Persian and the clueless tan cat had been curled up together in the windowsill herb garden.
I was sort of relieved when Daisy said, “I’m sorry, Daphne. I’m working such long hours at In a Pickle. I barely have time for Snowdrop.” She crossed her fingers. “And I think I’ll be even busier after this event. The food seems to be a hit.”
She’d given me no indication that she still planned to leave town, but I had to ask, on Socrates’ behalf, “So, does all this mean you’re staying in Sylvan Creek?”
Daisy smiled, and I was glad to see that her eyes were bright again, and her skin was rosy. “Yes. For now Snowdrop and I plan to stay put.”
That was great news, and I was happy for both Daisy and the dogs, who seemed to understand. They were nudging each other, both their eyes alight, and I did my best not to think about another person who wouldn’t be sticking around, only to fail miserably when my phone buzzed in my back pocket. Unlike Moxie, I hadn’t dressed up for the shindig. Somehow, I just hadn’t had the energy, and had gone with some nice jeans and a favorite shirt from a little consignment shop in France.
The phone buzzed again, and Daisy lightly touched my arm. “Take that. I need to get back to the buffet.”
“Wait . . .” I didn’t want her to leave, because if she did, I’d have no choice but to deal with the incoming text. However, Daisy was walking off, and against my better judgment, I checked the screen, which confirmed what I’d already known from the special tone I’d set. A series of notes I hadn’t expected to hear again. At least, not for a long time.
I wasn’t sure I even wanted to hear from Jonathan. Not until some time had passed. Yet, I couldn’t help but be intrigued by his message, which said, I’ll be at Crooked Creek Lane for another hour, if you want to see me one more time.
I read that message three times—then took a deep, deep breath and, with tremendous resolve, and more than a little regret, put the phone away.
Chapter 49
“I shouldn’t be doing this,” I told Socrates and Snowdrop, who bounced along next to me as we tore down Crooked Creek Lane, way too fast. The old VW was probably going to shake apart, but I had to keep my foot on the gas, because I feared we were already too late. More than an hour had passed while I’d debated, again and again, whether to go see Jonathan.
“He’s not going to be here,” I told the dogs, both of whom barked several times in raucous reply. Even Socrates seemed excited by the adventure. In fact, he’d kept following me around the party, nudging my leg and making a nuisance of himself until I’d broken down and piled him and Snowdrop into the VW for moral support. “Jonathan is long gone by now.”
I said that so I wouldn’t be disappointed when we emerged from the copse of trees to discover that the chapel was deserted.
Only that wasn’t the case, and I suffered a whole mix of conflicting emotions when I saw Jonathan’s truck parked near the church, where lights glowed dimly inside. All the scaffolding was gone, and in the moonlight, I could tell that the place was finished. The steeple gleamed bright white, and the flower boxes were filled with blossoms. The gazebo at the edge of the pond was also painted and strung with lights and lanterns that flickered with real candles. It seemed as though someone else, aside from Dorinda, hadn’t realized that the wedding had been canceled.
Hopping from the van, I released the dogs with hands that shook for reasons I wasn’t even sure I understood. I couldn’t sort out my own feelings, which ranged from excitement to self-reproach to frustration and a frighteningly powerful need to see Jonathan Black, all of which served to make my heart stop in my chest when he stepped up behind me and clasped his hand on my shoulder.
I turned around, hating how happy I was to see him, and all I could stammer out was, “I . . . I thought you’d be gone.”
He shook his head, not believing me. “I’m pretty sure you knew, by now, that I would’ve waited all night.”
I didn’t know what to say, and Jonathan took advantage of my rare silence, seizing an opportunity I hadn’t given him the evening before, when I’d spoken over him, again and again, in an attempt to convince him that I was right about our futures, and how we’d be happiest apart, in the long run.
“Daphne Templeton,” he said, taking my hand and leading me toward the pond, “now that you’re not talking, for a change, will you please listen to me, for once?”
* * *
“I told you, I can’t do a long-distance relationship,” I told Jonathan, who sat next to me in the gazebo, our faces lit by the flickering candles. The dogs were taking a stroll around the pond, giving us some space. “I just . . .”
“You’re talking again,” he said, grinning, while I kind of wanted to cry. “You promised I could speak.”
“I didn’t really do that,” I said, wiping one hand under my eyes. Maybe I was crying, but laughing, too. “I just said I’d listen. There was no pinkie swear.”
Jonathan crooked his finger. “Maybe there should be.”
I wrapped my finger around his, and we shook pinkies. “Fine.”
He released my hand and edged away from me, if only so I could see his eyes when he leaned forward. “If you’d listened last night, I would’ve told you that we can make this work. Because I’ve struck a deal with the Navy.”
I forgot that I wasn’t supposed to talk. “What kind of deal?”
“They want me in San Diego full-time.”
I already knew that, and I had to bite my tongue so I wouldn’t blurt that he hadn’t exactly found a solution. And it was a good thing I kept quiet, because maybe he had.
“But they’re willing to take me on as a consultant,” he explained. “A freelance contractor. It wasn’t their first choice, but they’re willing to compromise, based upon my experience as a SEAL and an investigator, which they consider a valuable combination.”
I tried to keep my heart still and dared to speak again, in spite of my promise, which I was keeping reasonably well. “And you’d be based ... ?”
“Here. In Sylvan Creek.”
My heart started pounding, and Jonathan must’ve seen my growing excitement. He squeezed my hand, urging me not to get ahead of myself. “There are a few downsides.”
Of course there were. Clamping down on my tongue again, I let him explain them.
“If I’m a contractor, I won’t just work at one base,” he said. “I’ll be expected to travel around the world. You’d have to accept that I would be gone at times. Maybe for extended periods. Although I’ve been assured that the San Diego stint was unusual. I’d more likely travel for weeks, as opposed to months.”
“But you’d return here?”
He nodded. “Yes. Of course. To you.”
The fact that he said he’d come back to me, not the town, or his home, was enough for me, but Jonathan continued explaining, laying out everything, so I’d have all the facts.
“The work wouldn’t be steady. At least, not at first. But I think, between your businesses and my income from investing in properties, plus my trust fund—which I only use for investment—we should be fine.”
I’d figured out that Jonathan came from a wealthy family, but I certainly hadn’t known that he had a trust fund, and his admission reminded me of Fidelia’s lie to Dexter.
I was glad
Jonathan hadn’t mentioned the money—though I didn’t know why he would have done that before—because we’d both always know that he hadn’t bought my love. Not that he could’ve done that anyway. He was well aware that money wasn’t a priority for me.
“You’re sure?” I asked. “About all of this?”
He grinned again. “San Diego’s not for me. And it’s time for me to part ways with Doebler, too. I can’t work with a guy who insults dogs.”
“I thought that was a one-time thing,” I muttered, distracted as I replayed a part of Jonathan’s and my conversation, latching onto something that suddenly struck me as odd. “You know, you just kind of combined our finances.”
Jonathan leaned back and rubbed his jaw, a bemused gleam in his eyes. “You had to catch that, didn’t you, detective?”
“What do you mean?” I studied his handsome face, which was matched by an even more beautiful and generous soul that he no longer hid from me. I wasn’t sure how I’d managed to break up with him the night before. Then I shivered, because the night was getting chilly. “Maybe we should go inside to continue this discussion.”
Jonathan was always chivalrous, and he surprised me by shaking his head. “No. You’re not going back into the chapel until I’m waiting for you at the altar.”
I heard what he was saying and understood the implication, and, even as my head reeled, part of my brain flashed back to Moxie’s premonition about the cake, and the note Piper had left. The one that followed up on the statement my sister had started to make at the farmhouse when I’d caught her trying to elope.
. . . you know why Jonathan brought the chapel back to life, right, Daphne? It’s where he wants to marry YOU . . .
“Jonathan?” My voice was breathless. “What are you saying?”
He leaned forward again, staring into my eyes and taking my hands in his. “I’m saying that I want to marry you, Daphne Templeton. That wherever life takes us next, whether it’s San Diego or downtown Sylvan Creek for some crazy canine parade, I don’t want to go without knowing you’re by my side.”
I let those words hang in the air for a long time, but not because I was unsure of my answer to his proposal. I just wanted to commit the moment to memory. The way Jonathan was looking at me. The words themselves. The warmth and sounds of the night, and the feel of his strong hands around my fingers.
I was also thinking about how Piper had wanted to marry Roger before he left for an extended period of time. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t clinging to Jonathan. But as he held my hands, I understood that the bond wouldn’t tie him to me in some desperate way. It was just ... important. A means of being together when physical distance would keep us apart.
“I want that, too,” I finally promised, smiling even as a few tears—the happy kind—slipped down my cheeks.
If I’d had any doubts about whether I’d picked the right guy, and I didn’t, they would’ve been wiped away as Jonathan pulled me to my feet and gently swiped his thumb across my cheeks. Then, by the light of the candles and some summer fireflies, and to the music of the pond’s croaking frogs, he drew me close and kissed me in a way that felt different, even better, if that was possible, than before.
Drawing back, Jonathan slipped a ring onto my finger—and the night erupted with overjoyed barks from two dogs who’d joined us at some point. A poodle with a starstruck look in her eyes, and a basset hound who, for the first time I could ever recall, lifted his muzzle and howled, his tail swinging wildly back and forth under the light of a full, and very auspicious, summer moon.
Recipes
Something’s Fishy Cat Treats
There was definitely “something fishy” about the Tiny-tanic, in a bad way. These treats are a little “fishy” in a good way. By that I mean they contain fish, which your cat will love—and they sneak in some healthy veggies, too. Your favorite feline will definitely be “on board” with these snacks!
1 medium-sized carrot, sliced into coins
1 small sweet potato, cubed
1 can sardines in water
Steam or boil carrots and sweet potato until tender. Drain and place in a food processor.
Drain the sardines and add those, too.
Blitz into a nearly smooth puree.
Form into cat-bite-sized balls and store in your refrigerator for up to three days or freezer for up to three months, if they won’t be eaten right away.
Fruity Pupsicles
My go-to summer pet treats tend to be easy to make, since they rely more on the fridge and freezer than the oven. These icy snacks will cool down your favorite pup while offering the healthy benefits of fruit. Socrates loves these treats on days when the mercury rises at Plum Cottage, which is air-conditioned the old-fashioned way—meaning the windows are open!
2 apples, any sweet variety
2 bananas
1 cup strawberries
2 cups natural coconut water
1 tablespoon honey
Prepare the fruit by washing, peeling, coring or hulling, as appropriate.
Add everything to a blender or food processor. Process until a smooth puree forms. Add more coconut water if the mixture is too thick; it should be slushy, not like a paste.
Pour into ice cube trays or molds, depending upon how clever you want to get, and freeze. I like to use a paw-shaped silicone mold, but, honestly, Socrates is fine with a plain rectangle. He’s not much for flashy presentation. If you want, you can also add “sticks” of your choice, like little pretzels, to make your pupsicles look more like the “real thing.”
Store treats in your freezer for up to three months.
Meow Mash-Up Cat Food
Tinkleston and Ms. Peebles mainly eat high-quality cat food from Fetch! pet emporium. Those foods are formulated to make sure their dietary needs are met. But every so often, I like to treat them to a home-cooked dinner. If you plan to start feeding your cat a steady diet of homemade food, please check with your vet, who may recommend supplements. Oh, and why do I call it a “mash-up?” Because it brings together chicken and fish, and you literally mash it at the very end!
1 whole chicken, without hormones or antibiotics
4 carrots
2 yellow squash
2 cups brown rice
1 hard-boiled egg
2 ounces clams in juice
Rinse the chicken and get it boiling in a large pot while you chop the vegetables.
Add veggies to the pot and cook everything until the chicken and vegetables are cooked through and tender.
Meanwhile, cook the rice according to package directions. If you have a rice cooker, good for you! This step just got even easier!
Drain the chicken and veggies and let everything cool. When you can handle the chicken, remove the meat from the bone, being careful not to get any bone fragments in the food. (Poultry bones are dangerous for cats.) Discard carcass.
Use a pastry blender to combine the chicken, veggies, rice, hard-boiled egg and clams until the mixture is coarse enough to have a little texture, but fine enough for a cat’s tiny palate.
Make sure the food is fully cooled before serving. You can also freeze the mash-up in sandwich or snack bags for up to three months so you have single-serving meals to thaw when you want to treat your furry friend.
Daisy Carpenter’s Secret Potato Salad with Dill
Daisy doesn’t normally share this recipe, but since I did help to get her cleared of murder and save her restaurant, which was literally “in a pickle,” I guess she took pity on me after I kept licking my plate clean at the barn party. She’s assured me that I can share the recipe with friends, too. I guess the secret is out!
3 pounds red potatoes, unpeeled
3 eggs, hard-boiled and roughly chopped
1 cup mayonnaise
¾ cup sour cream or plain Greek yogurt
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
2 tablespoons dried dill weed or 4 tablespoons fresh dill weed, minced
Salt and pepper to taste
Boil the potatoes until they are just tender. You don’t want them to be mushy. When cool enough to handle, cut them into bite-sized chunks.
Mix together the hard-boiled eggs, mayo, sour cream, vinegar, mustard, dill and white part of the scallions. Add the potatoes and toss gently. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
Sprinkle the dish with green scallion tops for a pretty presentation that will wow guests at your next summer picnic or party.
Hint: If you love pickle flavor, skip the apple cider vinegar and add a few spoonfuls of pickle relish. Yum!
Don’t miss the next adorable mystery
from the nationally bestselling Bethany Blake!
A Brushstroke With Death
AN OWL & CRESCENT MYSTERY
Available in November 2019
Read on for a preview ...
“Oh, goodness!” my friend Astrid Applebee cried, chasing her floppy straw sun hat down the stepping-stone path that led from my cottage to my studio, the Owl & Crescent Art Barn. The bat-like wings of Astrid’s unusual poncho flapped as she scooped up the hat, jamming it onto her head and flattening her unruly, dark brown curls. Turning back to me and the third member of our small sorority, Pepper Armbruster, Astrid frowned. “Time to batten down the hatches!”
Something Borrowed, Something Mewed Page 27
