him. Common sense and any handy mirror should have warned her that she was out of his class. A small-town farm girl probably held little appeal for a man like Jarvis.
The worried look on the newscasterâs face caught her attention, breaking up her pity party. She caught the tail end of his spiel, delivered in a suitably somber manner.
ââ¦the shallow earthquakes have been rolling through the boot-heel region of the state and downinto northern Arkansas and western Tennessee and Kentucky for the past three days. These cluster quakes finally slowed to a stop earlier this evening and show no immediate sign of resuming. Experts tell us that the quakes are too slight for most humans to notice, although there have been reports of animals exhibiting some skittish behavior in the areas surrounding the epicenter of this seismic activity.â
He paused to take a breath and pasted on a bright smile before continuing. âAnd how about them Cards today? Weâll be back with all the top sports stories after this commercial.â
No wonder the alpacas had been restless. Normally they were placid creatures, happy to graze and hang out with their herd. But for the past couple of days, theyâd spent most of their time clustered together in one corner of the pasture, grazing only intermittently. It was a relief to have a reasonable explanation. If their odd behavior had continued for another day, she wouldâve called the vet out, an expense she could ill afford when nothing was obviously wrong.
She started flipping channels, looking for something to hold her interest. She finally picked a repeat of an old detective show, figuring since she knew how it turned out, she wouldnât have to concentrate much. The minutes slipped by as she watched the star of the show pull together the rightanswer to the mystery again, the way he did every week.
Wouldnât life be simpler if she could wrap up every problem that sheâd ever faced in sixty minutes, with time out for commercials? Of course, if she was going to live out her life in a television series, she didnât want to do it in a rumpled suit, looking at crime scenes.
But as far as she knew, theyâd never made a show about a woman who raised alpacas, spent her evening hours knitting, and had no social life at all. Whoâd want to watch it? It was boring enough to live it.
Obviously her pity party was back in full swing. Sheâd be better off going to bed and reading herself to sleep. After turning off the television, she checked the doors. When she looked out on the porch, both dogs were asleep. Dozer lifted his head briefly, thumping his tail before going back to sleep.
She turned out the lights and trudged upstairs, wishing she had something more exciting waiting for her than a stack of unread books.
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Jarvis stumbled out of bed, feeling more hungover than rested. Before heâd taken his second step, something sharp jabbed into his big toe.
âDamn it, what idiot left all this crap all over the floor?â
Stupid question. This was his room, therefore it was his mess, making him the idiot. As brain dead as he was feeling, it was a pretty accurate assessment of his mental capacity. He blinked his bleary eyes, trying to make sense of the papers scattered on the carpet. When he spotted the black-and-white picture of Gwen Mosely, it all came rushing back. Heâd tossed the folder of information from Jake on the bed six days ago. Six long days ago.
God, he hurt all over. Too much to bend over to pick it all up. Maybe after a shower his brain and body would function well enough to do that without keeling over. Twelve hours of sleep hadnât come close to making up for day upon day of nonstop fighting.
At least nobody from his side of the barrier had died this time. Toward the end, even Jake had been well enough to join the party. It had felt damn good to have his friend back. They were used to fighting together, instinctively