That Runaway Summer

by Darlene Gardner

  Jill laughed. When she’d first met Annie, the other woman had been shy to the point of being withdrawn. No longer. Either marriage, motherhood or a combination of the two had brought her true personality forth. In the past year Annie had married her high school love, been reunited with the daughter they’d put up for adoption when they were teenagers and gotten rid of the port-wine stain on her face that must have fueled some of her previous self-doubt.

  “Dan says lots of people keep pygmy goats as pets,” Jill said. “It seems like this one was a pet, too, except she’s blind in one eye. That could be why somebody dumped her on the side of the road.”

  “How awful!” Annie exclaimed before her face scrunched up. “Wait a minute. Dan? Do you mean Dan Maguire? The vet?”

  Jill cleared her throat. “Yes.”

  “Oh, my gosh! He left a message for you when you were out on the river and I didn’t put two and two together.”

  “What are you talking about?” Jill asked warily.

  “You and the hunky vet! Penelope told me she was fixing you two up. I can’t believe one of her matches took!” Annie’s voice carried throughout the shop. Thank goodness there was no one present but the two of them.

  “You’ve got it wrong.” Jill raised both hands palm sides up.

  “Penelope didn’t fix you up?”

  “Well, yes,” Jill said. “Except it didn’t take. I was only with Dan last night because Tinkerbell has a broken leg.”

  Annie’s nose wrinkled. “Tinkerbell?”

  “The goat. Our best guess is a car sideswiped her and kept on going,” Jill said. “Tinkerbell managed to walk into the woods, probably on adrenaline, until she collapsed. My brother found her. He came and got me, and I got Dan.”

  “Poor Tinkerbell,” Annie said before her brow knitted. “But if that’s all there is between you and Dan, why did he leave you that message?”

  Jill had returned his call as soon as she’d gotten off the river, even before they’d stacked the rafts and put away the paddles.

  “Dan called with an update on Tinkerbell.” He’d also mentioned Chris had been waiting with Felicia outside the vet’s office that morning before it opened. “Stanley Kownacki knows of a farmer who raises pygmy goats. He offered to take her.”

  Annie frowned. “And here I thought you’d gotten yourself a hot boyfriend.”

  Jill couldn’t help but smile. “Why is everybody so concerned about my love life?”

  “Maybe because you don’t have one?” Annie’s question was rhetorical.

  “Ha, ha,” Jill said.

  “Before you go, I need to tell you about the call I got today from our new mayor,” Annie said. She was speaking of Charlie Bradford, who’d been elected last November in a special election after the previous mayor was unable to finish his term due to poor health. “You don’t mind if I straighten up as we talk, do you?”

  “I’ll help.” Jill walked with Annie to a shelf containing bottles of suntan lotion and insect repellent in no discernible order. “So what’s up with Charlie? Did he tell you any jokes?”

  “A quote, not a joke,” Annie said. “Something about a lie traveling halfway around the world while the truth was putting on its shoes.”

  “Teresa says politics have given him a whole new source of material,” Jill said, referring to Charlie’s wife. She’d become acquainted with the couple during the spring festival and liked them immensely, especially Charlie, partly because he was so delightfully corny.

  “Charlie was actually calling about something serious.” Annie picked up a bottle of Coppertone that had fallen on the floor and placed it back on the shelf. “He knows I rent out mountain bikes and wanted to fill me in on a race called the Poconos Challenge.”

  “I’ve heard of it,” Jill said slowly.

  “Oh, good. Then you’ll be up to speed when Charlie contacts you.”

  “Why would Charlie call me?” Jill asked.

  “He’s looking for a cyclist to present the proposal to the nominating committee.” Annie stood back and surveyed the straightened shelf, apparently satisfied. “I told him he should try you.”

  “I don’t think—”

  The phone rang, interrupting Jill.

  “I’ve got to get that.” Annie moved toward the counter, talking as she went. “No one else is around today. My dad’s got the day off, although I had to twist his arm to get him to take it.” She picked up on the third ring, answering, “Indigo River Rafters.”

  Annie’s smile grew wide as she listened to the caller. “You sure can talk to her, Dan,” she said, her twinkling eyes on Jill. “She’s right here.”

  She covered the mouthpiece and held out the phone to Jill, her eyebrows shifting up and down. “He sure does call a lot for a man who’s not interested in you,” she said in a loud whisper.

  Darned if Jill’s heartbeat didn’t speed up.

  She took the phone, avoiding looking at Annie. “Hey, Dan.”

  “We’ve got a problem,” he said. “Your brother overheard me talking to that farmer about Tinkerbell. Now Chris is missing and so is the goat.”

  THE QUAINT DOWNTOWN of Indigo Springs, with its array of businesses that catered to families, afforded a lot of places for a ten-year-old boy to hide.

  Add in a half-blind pygmy goat with its leg in a cast and that changed things.

  Dan figured he and Jill should have located the pair in about five minutes flat. It had been twice that long since he’d met Jill in front of the vet’s office, and so far they had no leads.

  They spotted the bored-looking man sitting in the shade on a park bench outside a Main Street boutique at about the same time. From his seat, the man had a panoramic view of the downtown street where tourists strolled past restaurants, specialty shops and art galleries.

  Jill reached him first, approaching with a smile, as she had every other person they’d questioned. She wore an Indigo River Rafters ball cap, quick-dry shorts, a T-shirt and old tennis shoes, yet still managed to look beautiful.

  “Sorry to bother you,” she said in her unhurried drawl, “but we’re looking for a ten-year-old boy—”

  “He hasn’t been found yet?” the man interrupted, his heavy dark eyebrows arching. He crossed his arms over his barrel chest. “He’s been missing for a good while.”

  “Pardon me for asking, but how do you know how long he’s been missing?” Jill asked.

  “I’ve been sitting here waiting for my wife to finish her shopping for what seems like forever. A fellow came by—” the man paused and scratched his chin “—oh, must have been a half hour ago and showed me a photo.”

  Jill’s hand flew to her throat. Her face paled. “A man showed you a photo of Chris?”

  Deep wrinkles appeared in the man’s forehead. “I don’t think that was the boy’s name. Or maybe it was. This old brain doesn’t work as well as it used to.”

  Neither of them had been especially alarmed up to this point, assuming Chris was trying to elude them. Now Jill’s breaths came so hard, Dan could hear them. He took a step closer to her, placing a hand on her back. She was trembling.

  “The boy in the photo,” Dan asked. “Did he have curly brown hair and brown eyes?”

  He felt Jill’s body tense as the man considered the question. “Brown hair, yes, but I don’t know about the curly part. He was about…hey, there’s the guy.”

  He pointed to a wiry, middle-aged man walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the street. The man was accompanied by a woman and a tall, skinny kid with long, straight brown hair. The kid’s eyes were downcast and his hands shoved into the pockets of his worn jeans. Still, it was obvious he was in his early teens.

  “We found him,” the man yelled, waving to the guy on the bench.

  “Dad, you’re embarrassing me.” The kid’s comment was audible from across the street, even with the light midday traffic passing by.

  “That the boy you’re looking for?” the man on the bench asked.

  “No,” Jill
said.

  Dan felt the tension leave her body and wondered why she was so relieved. Her brother, after all, was still missing. “Like Jill said, the boy we’re looking for is only ten.”

  “Guess that boy’s older,” the man said. “I couldn’t see his face real good with that hair in his eyes.”

  “Chris is a lot shorter than that boy,” Dan said. “He’d also be with a pygmy goat with a cast on its leg.”

  “A goat, you say?” The man chuckled. “Nope. Haven’t seen either of them.”

  “You sure about that?” Jill asked. “Chris is wearing a white T-shirt and dark blue shorts. He looks a lot like me.”

  “Lady,” the man said, “I might not have noticed the boy, but no way would I miss a crippled goat.”

  “He has a point,” Dan remarked after they thanked the man and left. He moved his hand from her back to her shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Chris is fine. It’s the middle of the afternoon, and Indigo Springs is a safe place.”

  “I know that,” she said. The sun shone on her face, illuminating the faint worry lines around her eyes and mouth. “It’s just that you read so many stories nowadays about child predators. I thought maybe some weirdo was going around secretly photographing kids.”

  “Unless he was a pretty dumb weirdo, it seems unlikely he’d be showing photos of the kids around town,” Dan said.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said. “I over-reacted.”

  “Perfectly understandable.” Dan had learned from experience that emotions didn’t always make sense when they involved a loved one. “What I don’t understand is how your brother gave us the slip. Like the man said, that goat’s an attention getter.”

  He looked through the glass front window of an ice cream parlor as they passed, spotting neither Chris nor Tinkerbell. No surprise there. He couldn’t think of a single business in town, aside from his own, that would welcome a goat.

  “Felicia said she’d call if Chris showed up at home.” Jill’s Southern drawl was more pronounced than usual. “So where do you suppose he is? We’ve been from one end of town to the other, and nothing.”

  “It’s my fault,” Dan said. “If I’d checked to see if Chris was listening to my phone call, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

  “You don’t know that,” Jill said gently. “Chris would have found out sooner or later that farmer was coming to pick up Tinkerbell.”

  “Then I should have figured out Chris would pull something like this.”

  “How?” Jill laid a hand on his arm. Her eyes, when they touched on his, were gentle and without reproach. She smelled of shampoo and river water, a surprisingly agreeable combination. “I’m his sister and I couldn’t have predicted this.”

  Her comment didn’t make him feel particularly better.

  “Stop beating yourself up,” she said. “Like you said, we just need to figure out where a boy could hide a goat.”

  They resumed walking, her shorter, quicker steps perfectly in sync with his slower, measured gait.

  “Maybe Chris isn’t hiding.” Dan spoke his thoughts aloud. “Maybe he went to a friend’s house.”

  “I’m afraid Chris doesn’t have any friends,” Jill said. “At least, not any he’d feel comfortable visiting.”

  “Haven’t you and Chris lived here for a while?”

  “We have.” She paused, as though searching for words. “It’s just that Chris is, well, shy. With the homeschooling, he’s not around kids his age.”

  Not for the first time, Dan wondered at her reasons for homeschooling her brother. If he hadn’t been aware of the seconds ticking by, he would have pointed out there were other social outlets. Like sports teams and Boy Scouts. “How about your friends, then?” Dan asked.

  “I don’t think so,” she said slowly. “Chris usually stays home when I visit friends. About the only time I got him to come with me was when… Oh, my gosh! I bet that’s where he is!”

  They’d reached a street corner. Instead of crossing, she made a ninety-degree turn and walked quickly toward a residential neighborhood of manicured lawns and grand old houses.

  “Care to tell me where we’re going?” he asked as he kept up with her.

  “Sorry.” She was practically jogging. “Do you know Annie Whitmore?”

  “Sure,” he said. “She’s married to the doctor. Their daughter Lindsey brings her dog, Hobo, to the office.”

  “Then you probably know Lindsey moved to town at the beginning of the summer to live with Annie and Ryan.”

  Dan nodded. He wasn’t certain of all the details, but he was aware that Lindsey had been adopted as a baby and that the Whitmores were her biological parents.

  “Well, I got Felicia to give me her recipe for double chocolate chip cookies and brought a plate over to welcome Lindsey to town.”

  “And Chris came with you,” Dan guessed.

  Jill turned up a sidewalk to the most impressive house on the street, a sprawling Colonial with yellow siding. The lawn surrounding it was of stunning perfection. The flower beds hugging the house were awash with color.

  “He did,” Jill confirmed. “He and Lindsey hit it off. She taught him how to play Guitar Hero.”

  “Guitar what?”

  “It’s a video game, darlin’. All the young people…” She abruptly stopped talking and grabbed his arm, her lips curving into a smile. She wore no makeup, her skin was slightly sunburned and the sun made the freckles on her nose stand out. She’d never looked better. “Did you hear that?”

  He nodded. “Sounded like a bleat to me.”

  They followed the sound around the house to a backyard filled with more flowers, green shrubs and tall oak trees. Chris and Lindsey had their backs toward them, completely engrossed in the antics of the pygmy goat. Tinkerbell pushed an inflated beach ball with her nose, waited for the ball to settle, then ran after the ball to nudge it again.

  Dan felt a surge of pride that the animal was getting along just fine on its mending leg.

  Lindsey spotted them first, her pretty face breaking into a welcoming smile. “Jill! Dr. Maguire! You have got to come over here and watch Chris’s goat!”

  Chris turned around then, too, his expression not nearly as welcoming. Tinkerbell did a one-eighty when the wind blew the beach ball in an unexpected direction. Lindsey laughed delightedly.

  “He’s so cute I can’t stand it,” Lindsey said. “If I didn’t have Hobo, I’d beg my mom and dad to get me a pygmy goat, too.”

  “Tinkerbell doesn’t belong to Chris.” Jill strolled up to the girl, slanting her brother a pointed look. “Isn’t that right, Chris?”

  Chris said nothing, staring sullenly at the ground. There was something about him that was so vulnerable Dan couldn’t help but empathize with him.

  “Really?” Lindsey asked. “Then whose goat is she?”

  “We don’t know,” Dan said. “We think someone dumped her on the side of the road, but it’s possible she’s a pet that got loose.”

  “Then she doesn’t live in a crate inside Chris’s bedroom?” Lindsey asked.

  “Of course not,” Jill said. “Some people keep pygmy goats as pets, but they don’t live in houses. They’re more like farm animals.”

  “Tinkerbell doesn’t want to go to some dumb old goat farm.” Chris thrust out his lower lip. “She wants to come home with me.”

  “She can’t, Chris,” Jill said gently. She obviously didn’t have it in her heart to be angry at him any more than Dan did. “You know Mrs. Feldman doesn’t have anywhere to put her.”

  “Then why can’t she stay with Dan like last night?” Chris asked. “Then I could come visit her.”

  “We talked about this, Chris.” Dan pitched his voice the same low tone as Jill’s. “The Humphreys raise pygmy goats. They make a point of never selling just one. Goats are social animals that aren’t happy unless they have company.”

  “I can keep Tinkerbell company!” Chris cried.

  Jill went
to her brother and put a hand on his shoulder. “I know how you feel about Tinkerbell, but she has to go to the farm.”

  “She can’t.” Chris sounded triumphant. “It’s way past four o’clock.”

  “That’s when Humphrey was supposed to pick up Tinkerbell,” Dan explained. He put a hand on Chris’s free shoulder so both he and Jill were bracing the boy for the blow to come. “I called the farmer and told him we’d bring Tinkerbell to the farm.”

  “No!” Chris cried, shaking off their hands.

  “You heard Dan about how goats like to be with other goats,” Jill said. “The farm is the best place for her.”

  Chris’s shoulders slumped.

  “Tell you what, Chris.” Dan met Jill’s eyes over her brother’s head, hoping he wasn’t stepping over any lines. “You can come with me. That way you can check out the farm and make sure Tinkerbell will be happy there.”

  Jill mouthed a silent Thank you.

  “All three of us can go,” Jill said. “That is, if Dan doesn’t mind.”

  Was she kidding? Dan would seize on any excuse to spend time with her, even though his intention had been to ease Chris’s distress.

  “Of course you can come,” Dan said. “Lindsey can, too, if she’d like.”

  “Thanks, but my mom and dad are taking me to that new pizza place.” Lindsey looked from Dan to Jill. “You two should go there some time. I hear it’s a cool date place.”

  “We just might do that.” Dan kind of liked the idea. “Thanks for the tip.”

  “But we—” Jill began.

  “Need to get going,” Dan interrupted. “We want to get Tinkerbell settled with plenty of time before it gets dark.”

  IF JILL HAD BEEN a pygmy goat, she doubted she could have resisted the Tiny Treasures Farm.

  From a cursory glance, it looked like any of the other farms nestled in the valleys of the Pocono Mountains. A detached farmhouse with red siding and white awnings was positioned to the right of a long gravel driveway. To its left was a medium-sized red barn surrounded by a fenced area.

  Only upon closer inspection did the differences become apparent. Between the barn and the house was an odd playground equipped with old tires, boulders, wooden cable spools and lots and lots of little goats.