Free That Runaway Summer by Darlene Gardner Page A

boisterous type. She couldn’t say anything of the sort, of course. It would bring up too many questions she couldn’t answer.
    “Sure, you would,” Jill said. “You keep up with your daughter.”
    “Lindsey is a fifteen-year-old girl who loves to listen to her iPod and text her friends. She only expends unusual amounts of energy at the mall.” Annie’s voice was indulgent, the same way it was whenever she talked about her daughter.
    “Speaking of Lindsey,” Annie continued, “she was in here earlier and pointed out something mighty interesting.”
    “What’s that?” Jill asked.
    Annie marched over to the bulletin board near the exit and pointed to the notice Jill had posted that morning. “This. You can’t leave until you tell me what it’s about.”
    “And here I thought that posting was self-explanatory,” Jill said.
    “‘Found—Caramel-colored female goat. Approximately one year old and two feet tall.’” Annie read the notice, her hands balanced on her slim hips. “Girl, that only brings up more questions.”
    “Only because you left out the important part.” Jill pointed with her index finger to the word her friend had skipped over. “It’s a pygmy goat.”
    “That clears it right up,” Annie said. “I find a freakishly small goat myself every so often.”
    Jill laughed. When she’d first met Annie, the other woman had been shy to the point of being withdrawn. No longer. Either marriage, motherhood or a combination of the two had brought her true personality forth. In the past year Annie had married her high school love, been reunited with the daughter they’d put up for adoption when they were teenagers and gotten rid of the port-wine stain on her face that must have fueled some of her previous self-doubt.
    “Dan says lots of people keep pygmy goats as pets,” Jill said. “It seems like this one was a pet, too, except she’s blind in one eye. That could be why somebody dumped her on the side of the road.”
    “How awful!” Annie exclaimed before her face scrunched up. “Wait a minute. Dan? Do you mean Dan Maguire? The vet?”
    Jill cleared her throat. “Yes.”
    “Oh, my gosh! He left a message for you when you were out on the river and I didn’t put two and two together.”
    “What are you talking about?” Jill asked warily.
    “You and the hunky vet! Penelope told me she was fixing you two up. I can’t believe one of her matches took!” Annie’s voice carried throughout the shop. Thank goodness there was no one present but the two of them.
    “You’ve got it wrong.” Jill raised both hands palm sides up.
    “Penelope didn’t fix you up?”
    “Well, yes,” Jill said. “Except it didn’t take. I was only with Dan last night because Tinkerbell has a broken leg.”
    Annie’s nose wrinkled. “Tinkerbell?”
    “The goat. Our best guess is a car sideswiped her and kept on going,” Jill said. “Tinkerbell managed to walk into the woods, probably on adrenaline, until she collapsed. My brother found her. He came and got me, and I got Dan.”
    “Poor Tinkerbell,” Annie said before her brow knitted. “But if that’s all there is between you and Dan, why did he leave you that message?”
    Jill had returned his call as soon as she’d gotten off the river, even before they’d stacked the rafts and put away the paddles.
    “Dan called with an update on Tinkerbell.” He’d also mentioned Chris had been waiting with Felicia outside the vet’s office that morning before it opened. “Stanley Kownacki knows of a farmer who raises pygmy goats. He offered to take her.”
    Annie frowned. “And here I thought you’d gotten yourself a hot boyfriend.”
    Jill couldn’t help but smile. “Why is everybody so concerned about my love life?”
    “Maybe because you don’t have one?” Annie’s question was rhetorical.
    “Ha, ha,” Jill said.
    “Before you go, I need to tell you about the call I got today from our new mayor,” Annie said. She was speaking of Charlie