“The same.” His mother had obviously taken a liking to Noelle. “Come, sweetie. You must be starving. Come inside and I’ll make you a sandwich and get you something to drink.”
Finola reached out for Noelle’s arm.
Butter leaned her neck over the stall door, teeth bared in what might have been mistaken for a smile.
His mother wagged a finger at the mare. “Don’t you dare bite me, Butterfinger.”
The horse took a step back, her tail swishing and her chin lifting as she nickered.
Finola wrapped an arm around Noelle and started to walk her toward the house.
Realizing that his mother had taken over, Duval fell in behind the two and walked in silence until they got to the entrance.
His mother stopped as soon as they were in the sunlight, her hair taking on a kind of golden halo.
“McCrae?”
He stopped short, and lifted an eyebrow. “Yes, Mama?”
She beamed at him.
For a moment.
“Go do your Ranger thing. I’m going to feed Noelle and then you can have her after.”
His mother nodded with a kind of finality that he was used to.
“Buh-bye now.”
Finola turned back to the house and took Noelle by the hand.
“Come along, dear. Let me feed you and get you out of the sun.”
Noelle managed to look over her shoulder at him before she was swept inside.
Duval shook his head.
Not only had he been dismissed, but his mother had kidnapped their expert with the ease of Girl Scout waggling a box of Thin Mints in his direction.
With a sigh he turned on his heel and walked back to the excavation site.
CHAPTER 4
NOELLE
She found herself ensconced in an overstuffed couch that had the appearance of a Victorian farmhouse fixed with the down home comfort of a relaxing bed and breakfast in a small town.
It was a little confusing, but oh so comfortable.
As Finola King set down a glass of ice-cold iced tea with a fresh cut lemon wedge on the edge of the glass, Noelle offered, again, “Please, Missus King. I’m happy to help.”
“Heavens no, dear.” Finola smiled. “I live for company.”
As she bustled back to the kitchen, Finola called over her shoulder.
“Would you like a chicken salad sandwich? Or… a BLT? Or…something warm?”
Noelle had been on the verge of ordering after every suggestion, but hadn’t gotten the words out.