Misty Pope might be a little flighty. And silly. And even not-so-smart. But she has good eyesight. That's for sure. She wasn't lying when she

said that Ivy Ramsey was attractive. Beautiful.

I was so mortified that she had overheard what I'd said to Misty, about good looks and eyelashes, and not being in any hurry to meet her. I felt

my face flaming in embarrassment. It didn't help that Misty was giggling at my big mouth.

"Hello," I managed. "I'm Harlie McFadden."

Ivy Ramsey's face, which hadn't lost its friendliness, brightened even more. "Oh yes, Harlie!" she said. "I've heard about you."

Well, when someone says that, it can be a good thing, or a bad thing. But, considering that she was smiling and looked friendly, I didn't

think it was anything bad.

"Oh," I said, not really knowing what else to say.

"They were all good things," she said, as if she knew what I was thinking.

"That's good," I said, still embarrassed by my verbal guffaw.

Misty had finished sacking up my groceries and I handed her the money from my pocket, and then she counted out my change.

One of the bag boys, Jackson Waddell, stood, waiting for me, a sack of groceries in each arm. I picked up the two other bags, and headed

outside to the truck, Jackson following behind me. I was so deep in my thoughts that I was startled when Jackson said,

"Hey, Harlie?"

"Hmm?" I asked, shoving the sacks I was carrying over onto the passenger side of the truck seat.

"You goin' to the street dance next month?"

"Maybe," I said. "Probably." I took the two sacks he was holding and leaned into the truck, setting them on the floor of the truck cab. I

realized he was still standing there, watching me, and I smiled at him a little.

"How've you been?" he asked me.

"Oh, pretty good," I said. "How about you?"

"Okay." He looked flustered. "I was wondering, if you do come to the dance, if maybe you would dance a couple of

dances with me?"

I blinked at him, a little surprised. I hesitated a couple of seconds, and then said, "Well, sure, if I come, I will."

"Okay. That'd be great!" He was beaming at me, and I tried to think for a moment just how old he was now, exactly. I thought

he was a couple of years behind me in school, so eighth grade, maybe? Just a kid.

"Well," he said, sounding happy, "I'll see you, Harlie."

"See you," I echoed.

I was climbing up into the truck, fastening my seat belt, when I saw Ivy Ramsey come out of the store, carrying just one small

bag. She was heading to a black Chevy dually pickup parked out front. I hesitated just the merest of moments, and then

I undid my seat belt and got back out of the truck again.

Before I lost my nerve, I went over quickly to where she stood, opening the door to the truck.

She turned to look at me, smiling. "Hello, again," she said.

"Hi. I wanted to apologize for being rude, in the store."

I mean, what I thought was, even if she'd heard good things about me before, well now, after I'd shot off my big

mouth, she might think I was a real fresh kid. Doc G would be ashamed of me. He wouldn't agree with me being rude to whoever the new town veterinarian was,

whether male or female, or pleasant or unpleasant, or whatever. I could almost hear his voice in my head, saying something like, "No need not giving a

person a fair chance, Harlie Mac. She's here to do a job. You've no cause to give her a harsh welcome."

Ivy Ramsey tilted her head a little, looking thoughtful. "I wasn't insulted by what you said. Not at all."

"Oh. Well, that's good," I said.

We stood there, looking at each for a couple of moments. I guess, in a way, sizing each other up a little. I still wondered where she'd heard about me.

When we did speak, it was at the exact same moment, and we both stopped then, and she smiled again.

"You go first," she told me.

"I was just going to say that I'd probably better get going on home," I said, feeling awkward.

"Ah. Sure. I was going to ask you a couple of questions, but if you need to get going, maybe we could do it later sometime."

I was further surprised. And admittedly, I was curious.

"What questions?" I asked.

"Oh." She turned to set her sack of groceries in the truck seat. For the first time I glimpsed the furry poodle sitting in the seat. I could tell just by looking

that the poodle was old. He had the look of age in his eye, and his eyes were watery, as poodles tend to be. He was cute, though.

Ivy Ramsey let her hand rest on the dog's head.

She gave me a direct gaze. "I understand that you worked for the previous vet here."

I managed a nod.

"Doc G? That's what he was called?" she asked softly, her face kind.

"Yeah." I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

"He was certainly well thought of around the area."

I nodded again. "He was."

"I've some big shoes to try to fill," she said, sounding humble, and, despite myself, I felt a liking for her.

"I'm trying to figure out his bookkeeping," she continued then.

I found myself smiling just a little. "Yeah. He had his own system, for sure."

She reached out to scoop the poodle into her arms.

"This is Blue," she shared, and I reached out to pet the dog gently on the top of his head.

"He's cute," I said.

"He's my buddy," she said, and rubbed her chin over the top of Blue's head. "Aren't you, fella?"

Blue looked at her, with obvious adoration.

"I'd heard that you're interested in going into the veterinary field," she said then, and I again was surprised. Of course, there's a lot of ways she

could have gotten that information.

"Yeah. I am," I acknowledged, and again she seemed to read where my thoughts were.

"I met your brothers a couple of days ago," she said, enlightening me as to the source of her information. "At the Cattlemen's Association meeting."

"Adam," I said, and she nodded.

"Yes. Adam. And another one, too. I can't remember his name."

Since besides Adam, Brian, Crane and Evan are all members of the Association, too, I thought it could have been any one of them.

"Tall?" I asked, "with dark hair? Or not so tall, with red hair?"

"My goodness," she said, with a little laugh. "Actually, yes, very tall. But not dark."

"That's Crane," I determined.

"Wow. You have four brothers?"

"Seven," I said, and her eyebrows rose.

"Wow," she said again. "Where do you fit in?"

"The youngest."

"I'll bet you could tell some pretty good stories about growing up in a houseful like that," she said.

"Bunches," I confirmed.

"Well, Adam and I were talking, and he's the one that mentioned about you working with Doc G, and how you plan on pursuing a career in the field."

"Oh," I said, with a nod. Then, I added quietly, "I really liked it. Working for him."

"Adam said you did." She hesitated a moment. "He's very proud of you."

I was a little embarrassed. I shrugged. "I guess so."

"No guessing about it," she said, with certainty. "It was evident in the way he spoke of you."

I didn't know quite what to say, so I didn't say anything, and we stood, looking at each other again.

"Do you think you might be able to lend me a hand sometime?" she asked me then, and I felt my stomach give a little lurch. Part of me wanted to hear what she had

to say, and the other part wanted her to be quiet.

"If you understand some of Doc G's records and things," she went on. "Maybe you could clear some questions up for me."

"I don't know," I said, in hesitation, feeling several emotions all at once.

"I understand if you'd rather not," she said then, and put Blue back into the truck. She turned, and put out a hand to me.

"It was nice to meet you, Harlie," she said warmly, and I could tell she was sincere.

"Thank you," I said, taking her outstretched hand, and she shook it. Her handshake was firm, solid.

"If you decide to help, you can give me a call."

"Okay."

She got into the truck, and shut the door, looking at me thru the open window. "I'd better get to work," she said, and then, with the merest hint of a smile, she said,

"Big shoes, you know?"

I nodded, and she started the truck, and backed up, waving at me as she drove down the street.

7

I drove slowly on the way home, both to be careful, and also because I was thinking.

Despite my misgivings about anybody who happened to be Doc G's replacement, I didn't dislike Ivy Ramsey. In fact, there was something very likeable about her.

She was real, obvious from her dirty jeans and worn boots, and the caring she'd shown her dog. She was attractive, immensely so, but she didn't seem like the sort

of female who would only care about that. Obviously not, or she would have chosen a vocation that didn't involve getting animal blood or poop all over herself, sometimes

multiple times a day even.

I thought about going back into the office again, with its familiar sights, and smells. But no Doc G. I hadn't been inside since he'd died, and I wasn't at all

sure that I wanted to now.

As I drove into the driveway at home, and then up to the barn, I went ahead and backed up so that the feed would be easier to unload. I got

out, and was lowering the tailgate when Adam came around the corner, Evan and Guthrie on his heels.

"Made it back, huh?" Adam said to me, in greeting.

"Uh huh."

"Any problems?"

I knew he meant in general, like with the feed, or with my truck not running right, or any of that.

"No problems," I told him.

"Good deal," he said, and they all three began unloading the feed sacks.

"Are you gonna just stand there and look pretty?" Evan demanded. "Get up there and help."

I climbed up into the bed of my truck, and pushed the sacks off the top so that they could grab them easier.

When they were done, and it was all unloaded, and stacked against the wall of the barn, I sat down on the tailgate, letting my feet dangle.

"Did you get milk?" Guthrie asked me.

"I got two gallons. The milk truck didn't come today."

Guthrie went to the truck and opened the door, grabbing two of the sacks. "Come on, Evan," he said. "Help carry these inside. I wanna have some milk

with those brownies Hannah made."

Evan grumbled, but went to take the remaining two bags and follow Guthrie to the house.

"That boy will drink a gallon by himself," Adam said, and I shrugged with a smile.

"Most likely," I agreed.

Adam turned to go back into the barn, and I hopped down from the tailgate, following him.

I tagged after him, as he gathered up some tools, and a couple of boards, and went around to the side of the barn, where the glass had gotten broken

in one of the windows. I watched as he started taking the jagged pieces of glass out of the window frame, wiggling them a little to get them loose.

When he got one out, he dropped it into an coffee can setting on the ground.

I reached out, wiggling one, too, until it came out.

"You don't have gloves on," he said. "Let me do it, so you don't get cut."

I stepped away a little, until he said, "Hand me that putty knife, will you?"

I reached down into the small tool box, and took out the battered putty knife, handing it to him. He used it as leverage to tap out some of the glass.

"Lot of people in town today?" he asked, in conversation, as he worked.

"Just about usual," I said.

"Huh. You still plannin' on helping Hannah with the laundry?" he asked.

"Yeah. I will."

"Okay. Thank you."

"I don't mind," I said. After I watched him for a couple more minutes, I said, "I met the new vet."

"Did you?"

"Uh huh. We talked for a few minutes."

"That's good. It seems as though most folks are willing to give her a chance."

"But not all of them?" I asked.

"Well, you know how it is, when somebody comes into a small town like Murphys, and tries to do something that somebody else did

really well. People aren't always so welcoming or tolerant."

"Oh," I said, and for a moment I felt badly for Ivy.

"We have a real need for a vet around here, though," Adam went on. "So hopefully she'll get a warm welcome."

"Yeah, hopefully," I agreed, and took the putty knife from him as he handed it to me.

"Did you like her?" I asked, curious. "You and Crane?"

"Yeah. I did. And Crane did, too." He paused, and pulled off his leather gloves, sticking them into his back jeans pocket. "Did you?" he asked, turning the question

to me.

"Yeah," I admitted. "I didn't want to. You know what I mean?"

Adam gave me a half-smile of understanding. "I know what you mean."

As he went back to work, measuring, and then laying a board on the now open window, he began to nail it across the window.

"Aren't you going to replace the glass?" I asked him.

"When we get around to it. Until then, this is gonna have to do," he said, beginning to nail a second board up.

"She asked me if I'd come in to the office, and help her figure out some of Doc G's notes and records and things," I told him.

"She did?" Adam asked.

"Uh huh."

"Hold that for me, will you?" he asked, and I put my hands on the end of the board where he was pointing.

When he was done, he put the hammer back in the toolbox, and leaned against the wall of the barn.

"What'd you tell her?" he asked, looking serious, and I knew by the look on his face that he understood what a monumental thing this was to me.

"I didn't really say anything. I said I didn't know."

"Huh," he said, looking thoughtful, but his expression not really giving anything away, as to what he thought, one way or the other.

"I just don't know if I can go in there," I said slowly.

He nodded.

"It's stupid, huh?" I asked him.

"I don't think it's stupid at all. You'll know if it feels right."

"Okay," I said, sighing. After a moment, I said, "Sometimes I can almost hear Doc G. Like what he might say about something. Does that sound crazy?"

"I can hear Dad sometimes. When I'm trying to make a hard decision."

"You can?" I asked, feeling a gladness inside. "Really?"

"Really. So, to answer your question, no, I don't think it sounds crazy." He reached out and tapped my nose.

I smiled at him.

7