His eyes lit, and something remarkable happened. Mr. Stoic tilted back his head and laughed.
CHAPTER 7
BO MADE A MAD DASH TO TOWN AND SUPERMARKET with Tricks riding shotgun. She was uneasy about leaving a stranger alone in her house though, really, what was he going to do? Go through her kitchen cabinets? He might crawl up the stairs but he sure couldn’t climb them, and there was nothing more interesting there than her underwear drawer if he got his jollies that way. She doubted he’d make the effort, though, even if he were capable of it. He hadn’t even wanted the TV on. She suspected he’d gone back to sleep as soon as they left.
The thin layer of snow was already melting and the roads were in good shape. She left Tricks in the Jeep, with the windows down a little for some cold fresh air, and made a record-breaking trip through the supermarket.
First, because it was most important, she restocked on food and treats for Tricks. Then she backtracked to the front of the store and began loading up on fresh fruit and some veggies, though fresh vegetables generally needed some sort of cooking and she didn’t do much of that, but maybe she’d throw together a loaded salad, or something. She got frozen pizzas, he-man milk, bacon and eggs, canned biscuits, frozen pancakes and waffles, anything she could think of that was fast, easy, and something a guy might eat. Pancake syrup. The makings for hamburgers. Chips and salsa. Cheese, cheese, and more cheese. Olives? Did men eat olives? But olives reminded her of Italian food, so she got some frozen lasagna and the makings for spaghetti, which called for garlic bread. My God, feeding the man was likely to eat up everything Axel was paying her!
She didn’t take the time to edit her selections or plan any meal in particular because she was in a hurry. When she was checking out, the tiny white-haired cashier, Miss Virginia Rose—a retired schoolteacher who hadn’t taken well to retirement so she’d gotten a job at the supermarket where she could keep tabs on the whole damn town—raised her eyebrows at the mountain of food Bo loaded onto the conveyor belt. “Goodness, I’ve never seen you buy so much food.”
Miss Virginia wouldn’t directly ask, but she would certainly set the table for confession.
Bo was happy to oblige. The best way to avoid the appearance of guilt was to be up front with as many details as possible. “An old friend is staying with me for a while. Can you say ‘junk-food junkie’?” She pushed two packs of Oreos forward, one regular and the other golden so he’d have a choice. She might snag one or two of them herself.
Miss Virginia might have wanted Bo to enlarge on the old friend, but she was in a hurry and resisted. News would get around town soon enough. She couldn’t hide him, didn’t intend to try. If people thought there was a mystery, they’d start trying to solve it, and nothing good would come of that.
She paid cash for the mountain of food, her normal procedure these days. Once she’d have swiped a card without thinking, but when she’d hit her limit on multiple cards while she was renovating the barn, she’d had to learn different habits. The grand total on the bill made her wince, which reminded her she needed to check her bank balance some time today to make certain Axel had deposited the promised funds. What time did banks credit electronic transfers, anyway? Her inquiring mind really wanted to know.
She loaded the groceries into the back of the Jeep. Tricks had been perfectly content watching people come and go, though Bo received a welcome lick when she slid behind the wheel. She scratched behind Tricks’s ears and said, “Let’s go, sweetie. I want time to take you for a nice long walk before we head to the station.”
Her tire tracks when she’d left were the only ones on the snowy driveway, meaning her guest hadn’t changed his mind and driven away during the not-quite hour and a half she’d been gone. The Tahoe was still in the same place, its windshield still covered with snow. There were no tracks leading from the house to the SUV, so he hadn’t even gone outside.
She let Tricks out of the Jeep and watched as she dashed around, smelling things, peeing, and smelling more things. She let the dog nose around while she got one bag of groceries out of the back and unlocked the door to take them in.
Morgan was asleep, one leg stretched out and his right foot on the floor. His left arm was curled across his chest, his right arm dangled. The blanket was kind of over him, but mostly not. If the noise of her entry hadn’t wakened him, she saw no reason why he shouldn’t continue sleeping. His body needed the rest.
Hurriedly she brought in the rest of the groceries, put them away, then grabbed Tricks’s tennis ball and headed out for their walk. By the time they returned, she had just forty minutes before she was supposed to be at the station.
She hesitated, glancing at the sleeping man. Let him sleep, or wake him up for a quick sandwich? He needed to eat, but he also needed to sleep or he wouldn’t be doing so much of it. What did she know about taking care of invalids? Not much, obviously. Now, if he were a dog, she’d be much more adept. When she’d gotten that little ball of fur she’d named Tricks, she’d been so terrified of her own ignorance that she’d read every article and book she could find on taking care of dogs. She’d never been the warmhearted, nurturing type, so it was ironic she’d landed in this role.
She hesitated for a minute, then slapped together a ham and cheese sandwich, put it in a sandwich bag along with some chips, and set them as well as a glass of water on the coffee table where he’d see them when he woke up. That would have to do.
She and Tricks drove back to town. On the way, she called the bank to ask about electronic transfers, and after a few minutes of holding, the head cashier picked up again and said, “Chief, we had a transfer come in overnight for you. It’s already been credited to your account.”