Rain had brought a whole new scent to the land that evening when she took her walk. The city, or even the suburban areas where she’d lived, hadn’t smelled like the wet dirt surrounding her as she set her sights on a different walk. She turned to the right and walked toward what was left of the town of Rooster, only a block or two up the road. She made it to the old post office and sat down on the bench out front.

She’d heard about towns so small that they rolled up the sidewalks at five o’clock. She believed it that day, because not one person was out and about and not a single car passed by on the street. Maybe they all went to bed with the chickens, too—whatever that meant.

“Just what time do chickens go to bed anyway?” she wondered out loud.

“As soon as it gets dusky dark,” Flora answered.

Ginger would have recognized that voice anywhere, but it still startled her. “Hello. I’m Ginger.”

“I know who you are.” Flora sat down beside her. “And I know you’re living at the Banty House. I live back behind the old post office with my mother, and I usually get out for a little fresh air in the evenings. This is my spot.”

“Oh—I’m so sorry . . . ,” Ginger stammered. “I should be going anyway.”

“I’ll share with you,” Flora laughed. “Stick around a little while and visit. As you can see, not much happens around here, so we all get excited when someone new comes to town. When’s that baby due?”

“Not real sure. I think about the first of June, but I could be wrong,” Ginger answered.

“Well, the Carson sisters will take good care of you.” Flora sniffed the air. “There’s another storm brewin’ off to the southwest. The television weatherman says it’s going to bring some hail, so we might not oughta sit out here very long. I do love the smell of a good cleansing rain, though, don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ginger agreed. “The city don’t ever smell like this when it rains. Just gives off the scent of wet sidewalks.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Flora smiled. “Well, I’d best get on back, as much as I hate to. Mama gets restless when there’s a storm comin’. Maybe I’ll meet up with you again on this bench sometime soon.”

“Maybe so.” Ginger stood up and started back toward the house.

She’d gone only to the corner when she heard a vehicle and looked over her shoulder to find Sloan pulling up to the curb.

“Need a ride?” he asked.

“Love one.” She rounded the front of the truck.

He bailed out and went around the back side to open the door for her. The long bench seat was covered with a blanket and the carpet was gone, leaving only bare metal on the floor, but she felt like Cinderella again as he helped her into the truck.

“I was in town getting some weed killer for the cemetery, and I picked up some cat food for the new kitten. Did you see it?” he asked.

“Yep, but there’s two of them now. Hetty is the black one you brought in. But I found Magic on the back porch. She’s white and pretty close to the same size, and they seem to get along real well. Thank you for bringing food,” she said.

“No problem,” he said as he put the truck in gear and headed on down the street. “So, what made you decide to walk to town rather than to the log this evening?”

“It’s a little shorter distance, and it’s gettin’ harder to carry all this.” She pointed to her stomach. “If I keep getting bigger, the sisters can just roll me into the doctor’s office on Thursday. I feel like I’m filled up with concrete.”

For some odd reason, Sloan looked relieved. Did he think she was avoiding the log because of him?

He parked in the driveway at the Banty House just as the rain started to dot the windshield. He got out, ran around the truck, opened the door, and scooped her up in his arms. He took off in a dead run toward the porch while hail beat down on them. She wrapped her arms around her belly to protect the baby, even though it was only a few yards from the truck to the shelter of the porch.

She’d never been carried by a strong man—or any man, for that matter—before in her life. She could feel his heart racing in her ear and her own pulse rising. The experience took her breath away, even if hailstones were falling on them.

Betsy threw the door open and motioned them inside. “Did she faint again?”

“No, but I heard the hail hitting the top of the truck and didn’t want her to slip and fall on it,” he explained.

“That’s good.” Betsy slammed the door behind them. “Let’s get a good pot of hot chocolate going. You sure ain’t leavin’ until this stops, Sloan.”

“Thank you.” He set Ginger down. She started to lean in and hug him, but quickly stopped herself. Someone as good looking as Sloan Baker would never have a romantic interest in a woman like her, she thought. Besides, she was pregnant, and she would never settle down in a place like Rooster. Her child needed to be raised in a place that had ballet lessons and maybe soccer or T-ball for little kids. Ginger wanted it—boy or girl—to have all the things she’d never gotten to experience, and it dang sure wasn’t in Rooster.

Suddenly, Sloan jumped and then chuckled. “I guess they think I’m a tree.” He pointed to both kittens, who had their claws sunk into the legs of his camouflage pants.

Betsy laughed out loud and pulled them free, carried them to the parlor, and put them on the floor. “They’ll have to learn manners, and I’m just the one to teach them. Y’all come on into the kitchen with me. Connie and Kate will be here soon. They’re down in the basement checkin’ on the new batch of shine that Kate’s been workin’ on.” She went to the basement door and yelled, “Sloan and Ginger are here. I’m making hot chocolate, and it’s hailing cats and dogs and baby elephants.”

Both of the sisters appeared at the top of the steps within a minute or two, and Connie immediately looked around for Hetty and Magic. “The babies were right here under the table when I went down to the basement. Did you hide them so you can keep them in your room tonight?” She eyed Betsy suspiciously.

Betsy shook a wooden spoon at her. “I most certainly did not. They were being bad, so I banished them to the parlor.”

“Tough love, huh?” Sloan chuckled.

Both kittens slid around the doorjamb, with Hetty in the lead. They stopped long enough to have a squabble under the table and then took off like lightning streaks back to the living room.

The thought of having twins danced through Ginger’s mind again. The best thing she could ever do for her baby was give it a sibling—something she had never had. Sure, she had lots of foster siblings, all ages even. But a blood-kin sister or brother was something she’d always coveted.

“Guess hailstorms and thunder don’t bother them so much,” Kate said.

“I just hope that we don’t have to put a new roof on the house because of this,” Connie sighed.

“It sounds worse than it really is since y’all got a metal roof a couple of years ago,” Sloan reassured her.

Ginger couldn’t imagine Lucas saying something like that to Connie. He’d be too busy figuring out how much he could get for the silverware at the pawnshop, or how he could get them to give him a $1,000 down payment for a new roof. Then they’d never see him again.

The lucky woman who wound up with Sloan would sure enough get her Prince Charming. Ginger was surprised that he hadn’t already been snagged, but then the Carson sisters had hinted that he’d been sent home from the military with some kind of problem. Maybe that’s what kept the women from lining up at his front door.

Chapter Nine

Kate said the rain that fell all day on Wednesday was a blessing from heaven. According to her, it was just what the corn needed to sprout and grow. Ginger wasn’t so sure she agreed with her when it was still coming down in a slow, steady drizzle and she couldn’t take her walk after supper. She went to her room and took a book that looked interesting from the shelf. She stretched out on the chaise lounge. Normally, a story would have taken her to another world. Not so that rainy evening. Minutes ticked away slowly as she stared out the window at the falling rain.

“Hey.” Betsy poked her head in the door. “We was wonderin’ if you’d like to watch our programs with us?”

“What?” Ginger hadn’t seen a television in the house, and she’d been in every room.

“We have three shows we watch on Wednesday nights,” Betsy said. “Well, they’re not really on television right now, but we buy the DVDs when they come out and we watch them. I make popcorn. We have cold soda pop so we can pretend we’ve gone to the show in Hondo like we did once in a while when we were kids.”

“I’d love to.” Ginger closed the book and laid it aside. “I’ll make a bathroom stop and then be right down.”

“The lights go out at seven o’clock, and the shows start right after that. I’m going to make the popcorn right now. See you in the parlor.” Betsy waved and then disappeared.

Ginger was baffled. She’d just dusted the parlor the day before, and she hadn’t seen a television. Maybe, she thought, they hung a sheet up over the fireplace and showed old home movies on it. “No, that can’t be right,” she muttered. “Betsy said DVDs.”