with the mystery man of Murphy Mountain, the Cartwright boys’ near miss with disaster. Was there a more foolish human on earth than a teenage boy?
And then the disturbing find in the root cellar: a skeleton in a wedding dress and thirty silver bars. Thirty pieces of silver, Sarah had said. Blood money. Nic shivered at the memory even before she threw off the toasty-warm bedclothes and stepped into the chilly morning air.
While she showered and dressed, Nic took a quick mental inventory of the day ahead of her. Today was Wednesday. She had no overnight patients at the clinic, no boarders. Her first appointment wasn’t until after lunch. She’d been scheduled to go out to the Double R Ranch this morning, but the foreman called yesterday and moved the visit to next week. She served as backup vet for most of the ranches in the area, and that would continue until Dr. Walsh over in Creede retired in two more years. The Double R was the only ranch around that called her first, but that was because the Double R’s owner, Henry Moreland, had had a falling-out with Dr. Walsh.
She probably should check on Dale Parker. The burn he’d sustained on his forearm needed a doctor’s attention, and even though he’d promised to make the drive into Gunnison today, she didn’t trust him not to weasel out. Other than that, she was free to help Celeste.
Last night Gabe Callahan had quietly relayed news of their root cellar discovery to Sheriff Zach Turner, who had made the decision to wait until daylight to attempt any further investigation. He’d stretched yellow crime-scene tape around the perimeter of the house—cellar included—and used his bullhorn to warn folks to stay away from the damaged building, whose “walls could tumble down at any second.” Then Celeste had appropriated the bullhorn, thanked her fellow citizens for their help, and promised invitations to everyone to the party she would throw once repairs to her home had been completed.
Nic donned jeans and a sweatshirt and made her way to the kitchen to find the dirty dishes from the previous night gone and a breakfast of bacon, pancakes, and juice ready and waiting. “Celeste! You shouldn’t have cleaned up my mess.”
“Why not?” Standing at the stove, Celeste glanced over her shoulder. “You plan to help me with mine, don’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“Excellent. I knew I could count on you. Now, sit down and eat, Nicole, because as soon as we’re finished here, we need to drive up to Eagle’s Way.”
A glass of orange juice halfway to her mouth, Nic froze. “Eagle’s Way? Why?”
“I need to discuss my plans for Cavanaugh House with Gabe, and you need to take Archibald to him. In all the confusion last night, he forgot his dog.”
His dog? Nic opened her mouth to protest, but reconsidered and poured syrup onto her pancakes. Celeste had a point. The boxer obviously had chosen Gabe. She’d find it interesting to watch his reaction to the fact. It would tell a lot about the man. “Why would you talk to Gabe Callahan about Cavanaugh House, Celeste?”
“It’s part of my Angel Plan. Dear, have you ever wondered what drew you home in the wake of your divorce?”
She gave it a moment’s thought. “The people. The place. It’s home for me. Eternity Springs … soothes me.”
“Exactly,” Celeste replied with a nod as she filled Nic’s sink with water. “Eternity Springs calls to people in pain.”
Like Gabe Callahan. It made a weird sort of sense, but … “That’s a little woo-woo for me, Celeste.”
“It’s spiritual. You understand. You’re a spiritual woman.”
“I’m not a New Ager. I’m Methodist.”
Squirting green dishwashing soap into the water, the older woman laughed. “Spirituality is part of the fabric of organized religion. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Often it’s simply not as obvious. The healing energy in this valley is significant, although it’s been muted by a sickness of spirit that infected its people long ago. We need to exorcise that sickness and encourage the healing that’s available. All will be stronger because of it.”
“That’s still borderline woo-woo with me,” Nic said. Then she addressed another part of Celeste’s proposal that piqued her curiosity. “So, what, you want to use Gabe as a test case or something?”
“I want to engage Gabe Callahan’s professional services. He is a landscape architect.”
“He is? How do you know?”
“I recognized him. Two years ago his firm designed a play area for a children’s hospital in South Carolina. I was on the board