He followed his nose down the hall toward the back of the house. Somebody had made coffee. Pictures covered almost every inch of the flowered wallpaper decorating the length of the hallway. Two baby pictures, a faded wedding photo, graduation pictures of a boy and a girl. He stopped and stared at a younger Sera. The dark hair was poker straight. A photograph of an orchard in bloom.
Leaving the old photos behind, he continued down the hall. The house was silent. His hostess was still asleep.
The coffee smell grew stronger as he entered the warm kitchen. The only light came from the flames glowing through the grates of an old white cookstove. Spying a coffeemaker on the counter, he touched the glass pot. Still warm.
He opened the overhead cupboard door and reached for a mug. Yellow script and a slipper-shaped yellow flower adorned opposite sides of a brown cup. The Wildflower.
“Coffee’s not more than twenty minutes old.”
At the sound of the unexpected voice, the cup flew out of his hands. Alex had always considered himself to have quick reflexes. He snagged the cup just before it hit the floor.
“Didn’t mean to startle you.”
Alex looked around the dim kitchen. He still couldn’t see where the voice had originated. The kitchen table in the middle of the room was unoccupied, a sugar bowl and salt and pepper shakers in the middle. In the corner opposite the cookstove was a rocking chair with an afghan, next to a lumpy dog pillow. At the sight, he stiffened. So there was a dog. Then he breathed a sigh of relief. The dog must be outside. He continued his perusal of the big kitchen. Sink, stove and refrigerator.
But when his investigation revealed a second dog pillow in the other corner occupied by a huge, spotted dog, his heart stopped. Snores came from the large wet nose, the lower lips quivering with each exhalation. The hairs on the back of Alex’s neck prickled as he took in the size of the black, brown and white animal. Cujo?
Returning his gaze to the rocking chair, he squinted. A tiny woman sat there with an afghan over her lap. Her face was in shadows, which was why his gaze had skimmed past her the first time. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.” Keeping his voice low, he sneaked a glance at the big dog. Still asleep. “Do you mind if I have some coffee?”
“Help yourself.” Her voice sounded hoarse. “So you’re Jean’s nephew from New York City.”
Alex set his cup on the table. The chair scraped against the floor as he pulled it from the table. When the dog lifted his massive head to investigate, Alex froze. Only when the head dropped to the pillow did he breathe a sigh of relief and sit.
He sipped the hot, strong coffee before answering. “Yes, ma’am. Sorry for the imposition. I ran into Sera at the airport, she called my aunt and my aunt talked her into letting me stay here overnight. I guess the bridge was flooded.”
“That’s my Sera. Always taking in strays. In between all her other jobs.”
Sipping the hot coffee, Alex’s brows knit at the reference. “Are you Sera’s grandmother?”
“I’m her great-aunt. You can call me Hope.”
He glanced up at the rooster clock over the sink. He had slept later than usual. “Is Sera still sleeping?”
“Heavens, no. She runs every morning. Says it helps her organize her thoughts. You turning up must’ve given her something to think about.” Chuckling, the woman stood. “Why don’t I fix you some breakfast? Bacon and eggs sound good?” She laid the striped afghan over the back of the chair and smoothed the front of her blouse. Her gray hair was wrapped in a braid and pinned on top of her head.
Alex couldn’t believe how tiny the woman was. Why, she barely reached his chest. “You shouldn’t bother. Coffee’s fine.”
But the woman seemed not to have heard him as she retrieved a heavy black iron skillet and dropped it onto the wood stove with a clang. Minutes later bacon sizzled.
“So you’re her great-aunt. Just the two of you here?”
She set a tub of butter and a jar of jam in the middle of the table and paused to give him her undivided attention. “At the moment. Chance was just home for a visit. That’s Sera’s brother.” Her face lit with a broad smile. “He’s a singer. That’s why she happened to be at the airport when you came in. Chance was on his way back to Nashville.” She carried a carton of eggs to the stove. “Mark my words. One of these days he’ll be singing at the Grand Ole Opry.”
She cracked an egg into a smaller skillet with one hand. The sound seemed to finally stir the big dog, who stood and stretched. He took two steps in Alex’s direction and growled, stared at him with droopy brown eyes.
“Should I leave?” He didn’t take his eyes from the dog.
“Why do you ask?” She was busy at the stove, laying crispy strips of bacon on paper towels.
“Cujo’s awake. Maybe I should go outside before he gets excited.” Alex eased out of the chair and backed toward the door. The dog dropped his nose to the floor and snorted. Alex reached behind him for the door handle when he heard a footfall outside. The door slammed into him and sent him flying in the dog’s direction. Coffee flew out of the cup as he tumbled onto the pillow where the big dog had been lying just seconds before. He curled up in a ball and waited, certain Cujo wouldn’t appreciate a stranger in his bed. Cool air drifted over him from the open door.
“What are you doing?” Sera’s voice was calm.
She probably didn’t want to further excite the dog. Feeling a breeze, Alex peeked through the crook of his elbow. Inches from his face, a fluffy white tail waved back and forth. “Protecting my vital organs.” When the tail continued to wag, he pushed himself upright and leaned against the wall. Pink tongue hanging out, the dog appeared to be smiling as he stared up at the young woman.
Alex was awestruck, his focus rooted to the woman who’d pushed through the screen door. Her yellow hood was pushed back, revealing dark, curly hair caught up in a high ponytail. Black ringlets caressed her cheeks, pink from exertion.
Her face flushed and dripping water, Sera covered her mouth with her hand as she looked down at Alex. “Good idea. Quick thinking, in fact.” She grabbed the dog on either side of the furry neck and spoke in a firm voice. “Cujo, not food. Not food. Outside.” She opened the door and the dog trotted outside. “There, you’re safe.” At the same time a mottled gray dog about half the size of the Saint Bernard appeared from the hallway.
Alex wondered if he had just been made a fool of but decided as long as the monster dog was outside he didn’t care. The gray dog appeared harmless. Rising from the pillow, he eyed the coffee leaving a dark stripe down the flowered wallpaper. “Sorry about your wall.”
Pulling two towels from a drawer, Sera handed him one and then, wiping her face with the other, moved to the stove to exchange a few quiet words with her great-aunt. Alex thought he heard a chuckle from the older woman, but it may have been a cough. He wiped the spilled coffee first from the wall and then the floor.
“Here you go, young man.” A big smile on her face, the older woman set a plate where he had been sitting before the dog woke up.
Three eggs and at least six strips of bacon. “I don’t usually eat this much for breakfast.” He glanced at the older woman, who still wore the wide smile. He could only guess she was happy to have someone to cook for.
With a chuckle she refilled his cup. “You’re a growing boy. Eat up, son.” She glanced behind him. “You deserve it after the morning you’ve