A Town Called Valentine - By Emma Cane Page 0,20

computer with a big square monitor in a corner of the dining room. Were the widows even connected to the Internet? she wondered. They might still have dial-up.

The mechanic at the service station had had a chance to look at her engine and told her that the car would need about five hundred dollars’ worth of work. Emily winced at the thought. Since she didn’t need the car right away, the mechanic agreed to store it for a couple weeks, without charge, until she was ready. As she walked away, she felt embarrassed and frustrated—and grateful for his kindness. She wasn’t used to having so little money and reminded herself that perhaps she’d been spoiled during her marriage—maybe even by her mother. Though Emily had waitressed as a teenager, it had been for spending money, not the essentials.

The grocery store was on Main Street, too, and after stopping there for supplies, Emily walked back to the boardinghouse. The mountains were an impressive blackness rising up against the starlit sky. Then she heard several howls in the distance and picked up her speed, looking at the lights of the Victorian house as a beacon in the night. Only upon reaching the porch did she feel herself relax.

The widows were waiting in the kitchen, all flustered that she hadn’t called them, that she’d been out so late. She refrained from pointing out that she didn’t have their number, but they were ahead of her, giving her the number of the boardinghouse, and insisting they have her cell number in return. She felt uncomfortably tied to them.

“I have my own cell phone,” Mrs. Thalberg said with pride. “My grandkids insist on checking up on me.”

“And she hates that,” Mrs. Palmer said with a roll of her eyes. “I have a cell phone, too, you know, but you don’t see me braggin’.”

“My family knows where to reach me,” Mrs. Ludlow said calmly. “I just don’t see the need.” She nodded toward her walker and spoke without bitterness. “It’s not as if I drive anymore.”

“She has other skills that more than make up for it,” Mrs. Thalberg said, washing her hands at the sink. “Wait until you taste this pot roast she made.”

“Oh, no,” Emily insisted, setting down her bags. “I refuse to allow you to feed me when you’ve been so good to let me stay here.” Although the kitchen did smell incredible.

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Thalberg said. “We all take turns cooking. Today, I was at the ranch, and I knew I’d have a wonderful meal waiting.”

Emily studied Mrs. Thalberg’s corduroys and padded jacket. “Do you go to the ranch often?”

“Though I used to live there, I find I don’t miss it so much, what with my husband gone to his reward. I went to help my daughter-in-law Sandy weed the garden.”

Emily hoped her surprise didn’t show, but Mrs. Thalberg laughed.

“I’m still good for an occasional workday, Emily Murphy. Don’t forget to ask if you need help.”

She didn’t want the widows to see her chaotic building, so all she did was raise both hands to placate them. “I promise I will. Now if you’re going to be so kind as to feed me, I want a place on that cooking schedule.”

She spent a surprisingly enjoyable hour with the widows, received her first baking-at-altitude lesson, then was graciously permitted to use the computer. Though the desktop looked old, with a big, boxy monitor, the Internet connection was pretty good, and she was able to do some research on the work she’d need to do. YouTube had an amazing amount of how-to videos. Hal’s Hardware even had its own website with a complete database of their products online. That seemed rather strange for a small town, but she shrugged her curiosity away.

When she almost fell asleep at the desk, she knew it was time to turn in. Since she’d showered before dinner, she barely remembered hitting the pillow. At dawn, her cell-phone alarm jarred her awake, and just shutting it off made her wince. Sitting up in bed, she circled her shoulders, feeling the aches and knowing it would be a long day. But that was no excuse for not running, she firmly reminded herself.

After dressing in shorts, Nikes, and a zipped sweatshirt over her t-shirt, she went outside just as the sun was rising. Once again, she came up short, staring in wonder at the imposing mountains that seemed so unreal. Would she ever get used to the sight?

Warm-up stretches made her muscles feel a bit

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