help her
figure out who they were and if she could find out more about the money Hal owed.
There had to be a way. She had access to the books now. Or she would, shortly.
Which was what Nikki was screaming about. Stan had felt compelled to break the news
that she’d gotten roped into working at the dairy farm, knowing full well what Nikki
would say about it. She’d called early to get it over with.
“How can you work there?” Nikki continued. Her voice had come down a notch, and Stan
hesitantly put the phone back to her ear.
“I’m not really working there. I’m just . . . helping this woman out for a few days.
Well, a few weeks, I guess. I’m not really sure.”
“That’s working there, in my book. Jeez, Stan. Don’t you listen to anything I say? Hold on.” There was a minute or so pause, then Nikki came back on the line.
“Check your e-mail. I just sent you a video. You have to see what they do to these
cows.”
“Nikki. Please. Stop. I love cows. But I don’t know what to say. This is a farm town.
The woman lost her husband. She has four kids to feed and the cows are here and they
need care, too. What else can I do?”
Silence on the other end of the line. Braver, Stan continued. “Even if I did stage
a revolution and helped them, where would I take five hundred cows? Where could they
go? Seriously. Where do cows who don’t live on farms live? Who takes care of them?
It’s not like we can ship them to India.” She remembered Nikki had told her once that
cows were treated like holy objects in India.
“I’m not saying you should stage a revolution.” Nikki’s voice was sullen now. “I’m
just saying, it’s embarrassing to have my best friend supporting an animal torture
chamber.”
Stan sighed and rubbed her temples. It was already shaping up to be a long day. “Look.
I’m not supporting the farm. I’m not even taking any money. I’m just going to use
my spare time to help this woman get through the next few weeks and then I’m done.
I’m not condoning the farm. I’m not doing marketing for them. I’m not even drinking
milk.” She didn’t mention the cheese she sometimes bought for her treat recipes. Dogs
and cats both loved cheesy treats.
Nikki hmphed at her. “Fine. Don’t tell me about it, okay?”
“My lips are sealed,” Stan promised, and hung up. Why did she do it to herself? She
had a bad habit of needing to explain herself to people, friends and family included.
She needed to work on that.
Outside her window, the sky was gray and serious. Probably nice and cool out. She
could take the dogs for a walk around the green, then go for a bike ride. Then she
could start planning her treat orders. Brenna was coming tomorrow to bake, but she
could get a head start today. She glanced at the animals. Scruffy was still sprawled
out on the pillow next to Nutty. Nutty didn’t even blink. He liked to sleep in on
Sundays. From his bed on the floor, Henry lifted his head and woofed at her.
“Morning, guys. You wanna hit the green?”
Henry wagged his tail. Scruffy sat up and handed Stan her paw.
“Let’s get on with it, then.” She glanced at her phone, which had just lit up with
the morning local news alerts she had set up. Weather, cloudy with chance of showers,
high forties by noon. A water main had broken in the next town. And an early morning
dispute in a Frog Ledge café had sent one to the hospital and one to jail.
Stan’s mouth dropped open. A Frog Ledge café? There was only one real café in Frog
Ledge—Izzy Sweet’s Sweets. Stan scrolled to her contacts and hit Izzy’s name to dial
her cell. The phone went straight to voice mail.
“Huh,” she said to Henry, the only one who was actually paying attention to her. “What
do you think of that?”
Henry’s tail smacked the floor in excitement.
“I’m thinking the same thing,” Stan said. “We should take a walk down there instead
of
figure out who they were and if she could find out more about the money Hal owed.
There had to be a way. She had access to the books now. Or she would, shortly.
Which was what Nikki was screaming about. Stan had felt compelled to break the news
that she’d gotten roped into working at the dairy farm, knowing full well what Nikki
would say about it. She’d called early to get it over with.
“How can you work there?” Nikki continued. Her voice had come down a notch, and Stan
hesitantly put the phone back to her ear.
“I’m not really working there. I’m just . . . helping this woman out for a few days.
Well, a few weeks, I guess. I’m not really sure.”
“That’s working there, in my book. Jeez, Stan. Don’t you listen to anything I say? Hold on.” There was a minute or so pause, then Nikki came back on the line.
“Check your e-mail. I just sent you a video. You have to see what they do to these
cows.”
“Nikki. Please. Stop. I love cows. But I don’t know what to say. This is a farm town.
The woman lost her husband. She has four kids to feed and the cows are here and they
need care, too. What else can I do?”
Silence on the other end of the line. Braver, Stan continued. “Even if I did stage
a revolution and helped them, where would I take five hundred cows? Where could they
go? Seriously. Where do cows who don’t live on farms live? Who takes care of them?
It’s not like we can ship them to India.” She remembered Nikki had told her once that
cows were treated like holy objects in India.
“I’m not saying you should stage a revolution.” Nikki’s voice was sullen now. “I’m
just saying, it’s embarrassing to have my best friend supporting an animal torture
chamber.”
Stan sighed and rubbed her temples. It was already shaping up to be a long day. “Look.
I’m not supporting the farm. I’m not even taking any money. I’m just going to use
my spare time to help this woman get through the next few weeks and then I’m done.
I’m not condoning the farm. I’m not doing marketing for them. I’m not even drinking
milk.” She didn’t mention the cheese she sometimes bought for her treat recipes. Dogs
and cats both loved cheesy treats.
Nikki hmphed at her. “Fine. Don’t tell me about it, okay?”
“My lips are sealed,” Stan promised, and hung up. Why did she do it to herself? She
had a bad habit of needing to explain herself to people, friends and family included.
She needed to work on that.
Outside her window, the sky was gray and serious. Probably nice and cool out. She
could take the dogs for a walk around the green, then go for a bike ride. Then she
could start planning her treat orders. Brenna was coming tomorrow to bake, but she
could get a head start today. She glanced at the animals. Scruffy was still sprawled
out on the pillow next to Nutty. Nutty didn’t even blink. He liked to sleep in on
Sundays. From his bed on the floor, Henry lifted his head and woofed at her.
“Morning, guys. You wanna hit the green?”
Henry wagged his tail. Scruffy sat up and handed Stan her paw.
“Let’s get on with it, then.” She glanced at her phone, which had just lit up with
the morning local news alerts she had set up. Weather, cloudy with chance of showers,
high forties by noon. A water main had broken in the next town. And an early morning
dispute in a Frog Ledge café had sent one to the hospital and one to jail.
Stan’s mouth dropped open. A Frog Ledge café? There was only one real café in Frog
Ledge—Izzy Sweet’s Sweets. Stan scrolled to her contacts and hit Izzy’s name to dial
her cell. The phone went straight to voice mail.
“Huh,” she said to Henry, the only one who was actually paying attention to her. “What
do you think of that?”
Henry’s tail smacked the floor in excitement.
“I’m thinking the same thing,” Stan said. “We should take a walk down there instead
of
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