Daisies in the Canyon(44)

“Thank you,” Shiloh smiled.

“I love plain old chocolate without any nuts or caramel to mess it up,” Bonnie said.

“I just love candy.” Abby laughed.

An hour later, Bonnie took the keys from her oldest sister and slid into the driver’s seat. Abby went straight to the hog shed, loaded two big buckets with feed. Pigs were a grunting and snorting lot when they ate or when they knew the food was on the way.

“The whole bunch of you will look better to me when you are wrapped up in the freezer as pork chops and bacon,” she said as she poured the food into the troughs. Her nose curled at the scent. “You guys could use some heavy-duty deodorant. Shiloh better be glad that I hate chickens. She’d have run the first day we were here if she’d landed a job with y’all.”

Martha yipped at her feet and she reached down to rub the dog’s ears with her gloved hand. “What are you doing here? I figured you’d go on home after helping us feed the cows.”

She made a mental note to ask Rusty if Ezra had cured his own pork or if he’d had it done. Maybe there was a smokehouse somewhere on the property. “I bet you Bonnie will know how to process the bacon and hams. She can teach me how to do it, so next year . . .”

Whoa. She quickly stopped the thought process. When did you start thinking about next year instead of spring and one day at a time?

Martha wagged her tail and trailed along behind Abby, both of them soaked to the skin when they reached the house, and Abby still hadn’t figured out how she’d even begun to think about staying at the ranch.

Shiloh was busy putting her clothing in the washer when Abby pushed into the utility room and stopped to drip on a rug. The smell of laundry soap, the sweet scent of shower gel, and warmth met her, but it all quickly disappeared when Martha shook from head to toe. Eau de wet dog blanketed the room.

“Use this to get her dried off.” Shiloh pitched a towel toward her. “I already took care of Vivien and Polly. Thank goodness I came in the back door and they didn’t do that on the living room carpet. Tile can be wiped up, but I’m not sure I’d ever get the smell out of the carpet.”

“It would give us a good excuse to get it replaced,” Abby said.

“But could we ever agree on what color?” A towel was twisted around Shiloh’s head and she wore a thick terry robe, belted at the waist.

Right then, at that moment, Abby envied her that robe more than anything because it looked so warm. She peeled off her wet, muddy clothing and tossed it in a pile on the floor. Wearing only her bra and underpants, she shivered and headed through the kitchen to the hallway.

“You can have the washer next,” Shiloh said. “I only brought two pair of old work jeans, so it’s a tough job keeping them clean.”

Abby stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Me, too.”

“I tossed what was just wet in the dryer and put my muddy jeans and coat in the washer. I’ll put your stuff in next. This rain is so cold that I feel like I fell into a frozen lake even yet. I’m making hot chocolate and starting a fire. Shall I make three cups? I feel sorry for Bonnie. That little leather jacket is all she’s got.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ve got an extra camo jacket. Think she’d like to wear it?” Abby asked.

“You could ask her. Hey, what’s for dinner?” Shiloh asked.

Abby had forgotten all about it being her day to cook. “I was planning on meatloaf, but since it took twice as long to get the feeding done in this weather, how about vegetable soup and cornbread and maybe a pan of chocolate chip bar cookies for dessert?”

“Sounds wonderful. I’m going to my room and catch up on e-mails. My friends in Arkansas probably think I’ve died,” Shiloh said.

Abby finished undressing and tossed the pile of wet clothing toward the washing machine. Shiloh had piled her things on top of the dryer, so Abby grabbed them and headed toward her bedroom. She tossed them onto the bed; picked up her shower kit, a pair of pajama pants, an oversized T-shirt, and underwear; and headed toward the bathroom. If she hurried, she could be finished by the time Bonnie arrived. Martha curled up in the rocking chair and shut her eyes.

“Kind of nice being in out of the rain, isn’t it, old girl?” Abby said. “You just stay right there. You don’t need to protect me in the shower.”

She could have let the water beat down on her back for an hour, but the minute she felt warm blood flowing through her veins instead of ice water she turned off the faucets and threw back the curtain. Steam had fogged the mirror and hung above her head like smoke in a cheap honky-tonk. It felt so good that she would have sat down on the edge of the tub and soaked more of it in, but she heard Bonnie talking out in the hallway. Abby hurriedly threw a towel around her body and motioned Bonnie inside when she stepped out into the hallway.

“I left the steam,” she said.

Bonnie smiled. “Milk is strained and in the refrigerator. Poor old cow probably thought my hands had been dipped in ice water. I hope this is the last of winter.”

“Shiloh is building a fire and making us all a cup of good hot chocolate. I’m making vegetable soup for dinner. You’ll feel better in a little bit.”

“Thank God we don’t have to go back out until evening,” Bonnie said.

Abby found Shiloh curled up on one end of the sofa with a quilt thrown over her legs. She wore a pair of dark blue knit pajamas printed with bright red high-heeled shoes and had a book in her hands.