Free The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club by Wanda E. Brunstetter Page A

the mess Brutus made wasn’t done just now. He did it yesterday while you were at work.”
     
    “How do you know it was my dog and not someone else’s?” Jan questioned. “There’s several other dogs in this here neighborhood, you know.”
     
    “Humph! I know it was Brutus.”
     
    “How can you be so sure? Did you actually see him diggin’ up the flowers?”
     
    “No, but I saw him wandering around my yard soon after you left for work, and it wasn’t long after that when I noticed that my flower beds had been torn up.” She shook the umbrella a little harder this time, sending a spray of water in Jan’s direction.
     
    He stepped back, but not before getting hit in the face with a few drops of liquid sunshine. “I ain’t believin’ that my Brutus tore up your flower beds, but I’ll do my best to keep my eye on him from here on out.”
     
    She pursed her lips and tipped her head back as she stared up at him, her milky blue eyes narrowing into tiny slits. “And just how are you planning to do that? With you working all day, that mangy mutt of yours is free to do whatever he wants. You know, there are laws about controlling your pets.”
     
    Jan couldn’t argue with any of that. When he put Brutus outside every morning, he had no idea what the dog was up to all day. But he didn’t think Brutus wandered very far, because when he arrived home from work, the dog was usually lying on the front porch waiting for him. Since the house he’d bought a few years ago was in the country and on nearly an acre of land, Jan had never felt the need to chain the dog up or build him a pen. Now, with Brutus being under suspicion with the neighbor, Jan figured he’d better do something about the situation. He sure didn’t want the old lady calling animal control and having Brutus hauled off to the pound.
     
    “I’ll tell you what,” he said, smiling at Selma. “I’ll build Brutus a dog pen just as soon as I find the time. Until then, I’ll keep him in the garage when I’m gone. Is that okay with you?”
     
    “Yes, I suppose that will keep him from digging up my flowers again, but what about the pansies he’s already ruined? Are you going to buy me some new ones?”
     
    Jan hated to shell out money for flowers he wasn’t sure his dog had wrecked, but he didn’t want to rile the old lady anymore than she already was. So rather than argue about it, he reached into his jeans’ pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. “Think this’ll cover the cost of some new posies?”
     
    She gave a quick nod. “It was pansies your dog destroyed, Mr. Sweet, and you’d better see that it doesn’t happen again.”
     
    “No, it sure won’t.”
     
    Selma lifted the umbrella over her head and hurried away, muttering something under her breath about wishing she had a better neighbor—someone without a dog.
     
    When Jan returned to the living room, now out of the mood to work on the wall hanging, he spotted Brutus lying on the sofa. “Mrs. Nash would probably pitch a fit if she knew I allowed you to be on the furniture.” Jan plopped down beside Brutus and reached out to stroke the dog’s silky ears. “Lucky for you I didn’t invite her in.”
     
    Brutus grunted and nuzzled Jan’s hand with his wet nose. Jan was glad for the loyalty of the dog, because he knew some people couldn’t be trusted. With the exception of his biker buddies, Jan didn’t allow himself to get close to many people—especially women. He hadn’t lived forty years without learning a few things about the opposite sex. He’d been burned once by a cute little thing who’d promised to love him forever, and he’d vowed sometime ago that he’d never let it happen again.
     
    Deciding to watch TV for a while, he reached for the remote under his sleeping dog’s paw. As he did, he looked closer and noticed some dirt caked on the pads of Brutus’s front feet.
     
    “Brutus, was that you diggin’ up the flower beds next