many mysteries I read. She said the difference between her and me was that she read books to put them ina theoretical context, whereas I read books to find out whodunit.”
Jack smiled. “I’m sure she wouldn’t have thought much of my reading habits either.”
Lily winced at the appropriate but still painful use of the past tense in reference to Charlotte. Jackmust have noticed it, because she quickly blurted, “So, ready to see the farm?”
The morning sun shone on the green pasture and freshly painted barn, making the pastoral sceneso cheerful it could have sprung to life from the pages of a Little Golden Book. Of course, in a LittleGolden Book, the horse in the pasture wouldn’t be quite so swaybacked.
The old chestnut gelding’s spine dipped in the shape of a horseshoe. “This ole boy was treatedawful mean by his owners,” Jack said. “I figured the least I could do was let him get old and fat.” Thehorse nuzzled the pocket of Jack’s coveralls in search of sugar cubes. Jack fished out a cube and handed itto Lily. “Here, feed it to him. Just hold it in the flat of your palm. Not that he’s got much teeth to bite youwith.”
Lily offered the sugar cube and scratched the horse’s velvety nose.
As they walked across the farmland, they were assailed by dogs— brown dogs, black dogs, yellowdogs, and spotted dogs, all of questionable breeding but unquestionable devotion. Jack led Lily into thebarn. A black streak shot past them. “That was D-Con,” Jack explained. “Barn cat. Standoffish.”
“Runoffish, more like,” Lily said. “Thing took off so fast I wouldn’t have known it was a cat ifyou hadn’t told me.”
Jack laughed. “I told you about my one-horned goat, didn’t I?” She led Lily to a stall, the home ofa black-and-white ram with a single, curlicued horn. Seeing company, he rested his front hooves on thefence. His eyes, like all goats’ eyes, were innocent and knowing at the same time.
“Well, aren’t you cute?” Lily scratched his bony back. “You might just be making a cameoappearance in my new book.”
“Ole Pan here’s the way I got Sandy to come to my place the first time. I told her I had a unicornand asked her if she wanted to come see it. Pretty slick, huh?”
“Pretty slick indeed.” Lily was attempting to rescue her shirttail from Pan, who was nibbling it asthough it was a delicacy. She finally pulled it out of his mouth and, laughing, turned toward Jack, whowas looking at her with a hard-to-read expression.
“Was Charlotte pretty?” Jack asked.
It took Lily a moment to get her bearings. “Um, yes, I thought so. She wasn’t that emaciated, doe-eyed kind of pretty that you see in the magazines. Hers wasn’t a fragile beauty ... but bigger and stronger.”