The Search The Secrets of Crittenden Cou - By Shelley Shepard Gray Page 0,14
really. Entering the store always made her think of the fun house she’d visited once when a carnival came through the area. You never knew what was going to pop out at Schrock’s.
“You coming in or out?” a woman’s voice rang out from the back. “Make a choice, and be quick about it.”
Deborah felt her breath hitch at the harsh command. She hesitated, but only for a moment. Then she stepped in, fast. Before she could change her mind.
“Ach! Shut the door, wouldja?” the same harsh voice yelled.
Deborah shut it. Then wished she was still on the other side.
Four large gangly puppies were gallivanting her way, taking down everything in their path. Their paws were overlarge and their tongues wet and drippy.
“Dogs?” she yelped.
“Prepare yourself! They’re a mite rambunctious right now. Real excited for sure.” Mrs. Schrock was hustling in from the back with her warning.
She barely had time to brace herself as one let out a friendly woof and leapt.
Two paws landed on her thighs. Its littermate jumped right next to her.
When she bent to steady herself, two wet tongues whipped out and swabbed her cheeks. “Oh!” she squealed as a third puppy barreled her way, attacking from the side.
She fell on her bottom. With a few triumphant yips, the puppies gallivanted closer. In no time at all, she was soon covered with paws and fur and puppy slobber.
“Woof!” a fourth exclaimed, barking and licking with playful moves. She would have loved to play with them all. That is, if they weren’t bounding on top of her lap with the force and energy of four tiny locomotives.
“Oh, you puppies!” Mrs. Schrock exclaimed as she scurried to Deborah’s side and came to her rescue. With a gentle tug, the lady maneuvered the pups off and helped her to her feet. “All you all right, dear?”
Deborah was not. Her kapp and bonnet were skewed to one side, her pink dress and black apron were covered in dog fur, and one of her black stockings now had a quarter-sized hole at the knee.
But she pretended none of that mattered. “Jah. I am fine. Never better.” She smiled wanly. “Those puppies are sure frisky.”
“Indeed.” Still trying to corral the exuberant monster pups, Mrs. Schrock looked her over with a worried expression. “You’re not hurt? Are you sure?”
“I am fine, Mrs. Schrock. Truly, I like dogs. They just caught me off guard, that’s all. They are adorable puppies.” More like overgrown horses, but still . . . their sweet brown eyes, pink tongues, and happy antics were terribly cute.
Mrs. Schrock chuckled as two of the puppies lay down, exhausted. “They don’t usually greet newcomers quite so enthusiastically. They must like you.”
“Lucky me.”
Mrs. Schrock’s eyes twinkled merrily. “Yes, indeed.” Raising her voice, she opened the door to the storeroom and called out, “Walker? Where are you? I need your help, dear.”
“Walker left, Mamm,” a familiar voice replied, sending the last tiny bit of Deborah’s composure out the window. “It’s just me here.”
Her arms full of puppy, Mrs. Schrock frowned. “I didn’t see Walker leave.”
“Daed sent him to go help with a delivery—I thought you knew?” Jacob called back.
Listening to the conversation, Deborah’s spirits sank. Oh, but this visit to Schrock’s had just gone from bad to worse.
Jacob Schrock was back in town.
Chapter 5
“Perry loved animals, for sure. He cried for days when his beagle died. It was a blessing we had a new puppy for him.”
GLORIA SCHROCK
Deborah fought to keep her expression neutral. But it wasn’t easy, because all she really wanted to do was leave the store and never return.
Ignoring Deborah, Mrs. Schrock shifted the puppy in her arms. “Well, what are you doing, son? Haven’t you been hearing the commotion out here?”
“What do ya think I’m doing?” Through the open doorway, Jacob’s voice held more than a touch of impatience. “I’m trying to fix this pen so the dogs stop escaping.”
“It shouldn’t be too difficult. Your father put it together last night.”
“Daed put it together wrong. That’s why the pups were running loose all night.”
Mrs. Schrock glanced at the entrance to the storage room and winced. To Deborah, she whispered, “It was quite a mess back there this morning.”
“Ah,” Deborah said.
Raising her voice, Mrs. Schrock said, “I don’t know what your daed could’ve done wrong, Jacob.”
“There’s no telling. Daed can hardly put a shoebox together, let alone a wire pen.”
“Now, Jacob, that’s not very charitable.”
“You know I’m right.”
Deborah couldn’t help but smile at the interplay. It was so familiar. Well, how her family