Riding Shotgun

They started back to the house. “Esther didn’t mention that she was expecting you,” Grace said.

“I haven’t talked to Esther or Charlie in months,” Pierce admitted. “Actually, I haven’t been in this area in years. I thought I’d surprise them.”

“I’m so sorry. You must not have heard.”

She sounded genuinely upset. “What’s the problem?”

“Charlie’s dead.”

“Oh, no. Not Charlie.” The news hit hard, and he struggled to get his mind around it. “When did that happen?”

“Three months ago.”

“I hadn’t heard. Neither have my brothers. It’s hard to believe. I mean, he was in great health the last time I saw him. He wasn’t that old.” Pierce was rambling, talking as much to himself as to Grace. “How did he die?”

“I don’t know.”

That seemed a bit strange. “How long have you known Esther?”

“Not long,” Grace said. “She sprained her ankle yesterday. I’m staying with her a few days to help out. I’m sure she won’t trust me gathering eggs again.”

“Don’t count on that. Esther will just demand you do it until you get it right. She’ll drive you like a team of horses and make you love her for it.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“How’s Esther doing, I mean without Charlie? They were so close—still held hands and had every meal together. She was the only one who could talk him down when he got really riled about something.”

“What kind of things riled him that much?”

“Mistreating one of his animals. People lying to him or not doing what they’d promised. Politics.”