The Sweetgum Ladies Knit for Love - By Beth Pattillo Page 0,10

of Esther’s spiritual routine. She and the Divine had been cordial but distant acquaintances for years, and that had seemed to suit them both. Esther knew her duty, she did her duty, and she expected God to do His. Why she still thought that the Almighty would hold up His end of the bargain, though, she had no idea. Any real hope of divine intervention in her life had died with her first child more than thirty years before.

The road curved sharply to the left, and Esther’s foot pumped the brake. The piercing sun blurred her vision, and then a haze of brown and white streaked across the highway in front of her. She slammed on the brakes, her high heel catching beneath the pedal. The car skidded to the right, and Esther whipped the wheel in the same direction to correct her slide, but to no avail. She heard a sharp thump and then the car banged against the guardrail that separated the highway from Cooter Creek ten feet below. The Jaguar jerked to a stop, the engine and her own blood thrumming in her ears. Her breath came in short gasps. The seat belt pressed against her chest, pinning her in the car.

She had hit something living. She knew it instinctively.

With shaking hands, she struggled to unfasten the seat belt. After several tries, she managed to release the catch and untangle herself from the restraint. She opened the car door and pulled herself out.

She’d hit some sort of animal, of course. Not a skunk, or she would smell it. And the fast-moving blur had been too small for a deer. Esther moved around the front of the car and saw a mop of fur lying motionless on the asphalt.

A dog.

More tears stung Esther’s eyes. She knelt beside the animal and felt for a pulse at its neck. Did dogs even have a pulse there? A wave of nausea overcame her, for this was exactly how she’d knelt beside Frank when he’d collapsed that last fateful day.

“Come on,” she pleaded, not sure whom she was addressing—the good Lord in heaven or the limp form of the dog. And then she felt a small movement beneath her fingers. It wasn’t dead.

Relief washed over her but was quickly replaced by dread. What did she do now? She’d never owned a pet in her life. Her experience with animals was limited to shooing them away from her so they wouldn’t put a run in her stockings or get paw prints on her designer suits.

The dog whimpered, and instinctively she reached to rub the animal behind the ears. His fur was wet and matted, and when she ran a gentle hand down his side, she could feel his ribs. She needed to get him to the veterinarian, but how?

Esther could arrange a seating chart for the Centennial Society luncheon in under fifteen minutes. She knew how to pressure the local florist into letting her buy wholesale. And she could motivate a caterer to stretch food for fifty to accommodate an extra ten people. But she didn’t know how to get this pitiful animal off the highway and into her car.

The sound of an approaching vehicle caught her attention, and she looked up to see a battered pickup truck slowing to a stop on the shoulder of the road. At that moment, she realized how vulnerable she was, kneeling in the highway by the dog, but the animal looked up at her with huge, sorrowful brown eyes, and she couldn’t bring herself to move to safety.

A tall, red-headed man, about ten years younger than Esther, emerged from the truck. His shirt was the same rusted gray as the pickup. “You all right?” he asked as he moved toward her. Then he saw the dog beside her. “Is he dead?”

Esther shook her head, beyond grateful that the man had stopped. He looked like a farmer. Surely he would know what to do about the dog.

“He’s alive, but he’s hurt. I need to get him to the vet.”

The man nodded. “I can help you get him into your car.”

Her heart sank. She had hoped the man would offer to take over and see about the dog. “Thank you. Although…” She fixed a troubled expression on her face. “I don’t really know anything about dogs.”

“Not much to know.”

He dropped to one knee and ran his hands over the animal, much as Esther had, but his motions were far more competent, experienced. He was oblivious to the damsel-in-distress