No Farm No Fowl by Julie Anne Lindsey

Author:Julie Anne Lindsey [Lindsey, Julie Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cozy Queen Publishing LLC

Chapter Twelve

I returned to my home alone. Bone-crushing gratitude carried me inside, and I thanked my lucky stars I hadn’t been arrested immediately for a crime I didn’t commit. The fact Mary went home without a scene, instead of imploding from rightful outrage, was another blessing.

I flopped onto the couch and called Mama to set a time for tea while I was still a free woman. Today seemed like the best option, all things considered. When I finished speaking with Mama, I took a chance and dialed the contact number I found on the Town Yum for Dirk Yoder. The moment Officer Anthony found soy in my café’s fridge, I no longer had the luxury of letting the investigation take its course. I had to suck up my apprehension and get back in the game.

Dirk Yoder didn’t answer, so I added him to my contact list and sent him a text.

An hour later, I examined myself in the mirror, dressed in something Mama had bought me when I still lived at Laurelwood. Thankfully I’d had the forethought to keep a few such clothing items on hand when I moved to Meadowbrook. My current wardrobe made Mama sneer.

I turned to examine my reflection from every angle. My body had changed in the years since a tailor had adjusted the pieces to my figure. The muted curves of a pampered young woman had become sharper and more distinct with age. Hard work on my property and countless miles walked and biked had shaved my round edges and tightened my core. Now, my merely adequate bosom appeared ample above a whittled waist, and my distinctly average backside had grown round from a thousand squats tending hens, pulling weeds and cleaning stables.

The cream blouse was loose across my chest, and my pencil skirt hung lower on narrowed hips than it ever had before. But at least the ensemble still fit.

I tried two more options, before settling on a knee-length sundress with narrow straps and a cinched empire waist. The pale-yellow color reminded me of the lemon trees outside my bedroom window at Laurelwood. I could almost smell the buds in bloom as I pulled the zipper up my side. Next I brushed my hair and twisted it into a pair of space buns to keep me cool, then grabbed my mini-backpack and donned my most comfortable sneakers.

Someone had borrowed the community pickup, and I wasn’t ready to ride my bike again. The bicycle had felt dangerous since the tires were flattened. How would I know if someone had also loosened the wheels or damaged my steering? What if I was halfway down a mountain and something went catastrophically wrong?

I definitely needed to have it inspected for mechanical integrity.

The sound of a distant four-wheeler caught my ear, but it wouldn’t do me any good. ATVs were great for hauling things through Meadowbrook; they weren’t legal to drive on standard roads.

I pursed my lips and scanned the road in each direction, hoping I’d somehow missed the small white truck.

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