Рита Браун - Sour Puss

"He'd parked in a reserved space. I should say the car was parked in a reserved space. Big Jake towed it, and so far no call from the professor about his car. And his housekeeper called. He told her he'd be home, and she said he is very punctual."

"Maybe he had a heart attack or something."

"Called all the hospitals, rescue squads, state police. Nada."

She noticed how pretty the paprika looked on the deviled egg yolk. "Well, something's wrong."

"Did he ever stop by during his visit?"

"He came to look at my Petit Manseng." She pronounced the French perfectly.

A wry smile played over Cooper's lips.

"God, you'll soon be as fussy as the rest of them."

"No, I won't."

"These are good."

"Hey, Miranda left a cheesecake with a chocolate bottom crust and raspberry sauce on top, French raspberries. She said the market had had a run on strawberries and raspberries shipped in from Florida and Georgia."

"Spring comes a lot earlier there."

Harry rose, returning with the cheesecake. Then she got up again.

"Now what are you doing?"

"Coke and cheesecake don't go. I'm making tea."

"Okay." Cooper happily assented. "So what happened when Professor Forland looked at your vines?"

"Nothing. He said they were healthy and he wished me luck."

"Hmm."

"Ever notice he looked like a worm?"

Cooper thought. "He did, didn't he?"

12

After a long Thursday morning, Fair stopped at the small coffee shop in Crozet. The days, incredibly busy, had flown by. It seemed like he'd checked fencing with Harry on Saturday and suddenly it was Thursday. Before he had his cup to his lips for a needed jolt of caffeine, Rollie Barnes pushed through the door. Seeing Fair at the counter, he sat next to him.

"Hello, Rollie, how are you today?"

"Cold. I thought Virginia was the South," Rollie grumbled.

"It is, but you're hard by the Blue Ridge Mountains."

"Kyle, I need a double shot," Rollie called to the owner, and then swiveled on his stool toward Fair. "Low pressure."

"Yeah, I know I shouldn't drink this much coffee. I'll get the jitters later, but I've been up since three-thirty this morning and I'm about beat." Fair wasn't complaining so much as stating fact.

"Something going on?"

"Too many people are turning horses into rich pastures. In spring if folks don't watch their horses they can founder. And I'm delivering foals that aren't Thoroughbreds. Late ones."

"Guess you heard Professor Forland is missing."

"Harry told me when I came home last night."

"Thanks." Rollie eagerly grasped the large mug when Kyle slid it to him.

"Doesn't make much sense. He doesn't seem like the kind of man to go on a bender."

"You never know about people. Everyone's got secrets." Rollie sounded learned.

Fair uttered the words that were music to Rollie's ears. "You're right."

Kyle, who'd been listening to theories about the professor's disappearance all week in the news, said, "Wouldn't believe the stuff I've heard." He paused. "He's captured by Al Qaeda. He is Al Qaeda. He's run off with Dinny Ostermann's wife. It goes on."

"People can talk." Rollie pointed his finger at the door to the coffee shop. "Who knows what goes on out there?"

Fair tapped his head. "Who knows what goes on in here?"

"Nutcase?" Kyle's brow furrowed.

"The professor?" Rollie propped his elbow on the counter.

Kyle leaned over the counter. "Or whoever snatched him."

Always one to look on the bright side, Fair added, "Oh, he might show up. Embarrassed maybe."

The door swung open at regular intervals. The lunch crowd started at eleven and didn't taper off until two in the afternoon. Kyle appreciated a large lunch clientele.

Fair slid his money across the counter. Rollie pushed it back. "I owe you a cup of coffee. You were right about the colt."

"How's the little fella doing?" Fair smiled broadly. He loved babies.

"Pretty good. 'Course, my wife spends more time with him than with me. She's so soft-hearted."

"That's why she married you." Fair honored him by teasing him.

Rollie thought about that a minute. "Might be right. You know, I wonder sometimes what the world would be like without women. Apart from being dull."

"We'd kill each other," Fair simply stated.

"Is this a woman-as-civilizing-force discussion?" Kyle cracked as he motioned for his waitstaff to pick up the pace.

"They are." Rollie placed a crisp ten-dollar bill on the polished counter.

Kyle, having had his troubles with women, grumbled, "What the hell do they want? Maybe they do make the world kinder, I don't know, but I can't figure out what they want."

"Whatever they tell you," Fair, accustomed to Harry being forthright, advised.

"They say one thing one day and another thing the next." Kyle put his hand on his hip. "It drives me crazy."

"Everyone, man or woman, wants to feel special," Fair said. "You have to figure out what that person really needs and then figure out what they want. The two aren't always the same, you know."

Rollie stared at Fair, taking his measure as if for the first time. "Guess you do."

"My experience in keeping a woman — happy—and mind you, I didn't the first time around; I learned this the hard way, by losing the best woman I could ever hope for— but give her what she wants. Simple."

"The Taj Mahal." Kyle grimaced.

"Oh, Kyle. You know what I mean." Fair leaned down, since he was now standing, and lowered his voice. "Give her what she wants in bed. Take your time. Count from one hundred backward if you have to, but take your time. Bring her flowers just because. Take out the trash. Wash and wax her car. Do stuff. Tell her she looks pretty."

"You do all that?" Rollie seemed amazed.

"Sure I do. Harry's a country girl. What makes her happy? A new pair of work boots that won't hurt her feet. And some flowers with the boots are okay, too. Maybe another woman would like the money for a new dress or something, but with Harry, practicality comes first."

"When did you know you'd won her back?" Rollie was now quite interested.

"Started two years ago when I bought the dually. Helped her buy it, really, and Art Bushey, who owned the Ford dealership then, helped me. But I knew I was across home plate when I bought her that colt by Fred Astaire. He was a yearling when I bought him, correct and good mind. She melted. After that it was a matter of time."

"Two years," Kyle matter-of-factly stated.

Rollie blurted out, "You hung on for two more years?"

"I kept asking her to marry me. I knew she'd say yes eventually. No one will ever love her like I do, and I learned my lesson. She knows that."

"I don't know if I have that stamina," Kyle declared.

"Then you don't love her enough," Fair bluntly replied, which was surprising coming from him.

"He might have a point." Rollie supported Fair. "I haven't met a man yet who doesn't have to jump through hoops of fire. Once you do it, you're okay. But I mean, they'll put you through fire."

"I just don't see the point." Kyle raised his voice and a few customers turned his way.

"Because you're a man," Fair said. "Listen to me. You don't have to see the point. You just have to do what needs to be done."

"Yeah, if you try to understand a woman you'll never get to first base. Some things you can understand, but other things, ridiculous as they are, are really important to them. So, like the man says, do what they tell you." Rollie chuckled at this.

He and Fair walked out together.

"Learned something about you today," Fair warmly said. "You pay attention."

"Sometimes."

13

"Slow down,"Pewter growled, running behind Mrs. Murphy.

"No!"

Ahead, a baby bunny ran evasively to avoid the sharp claws of the tiger cat. The little fellow just made it to his warren and the comfort of his mother as the cat pounced a great final pounce.