Penelope scowled. “Everyone is being silent about it, other than asking me how I am.”
Georgie smiled and squeezed her arm. “That’s because we’re concerned about you.”
She huffed out a breath. “Then someone needs to tell me what’s going on before I stumble upon something that will get me hurt.”
Georgie stiffened, her expression suddenly serious. “You’re right. You should come out to the Ridge tonight for dinner. It affects my whole family, so you should hear it from them.”
Penelope blinked. “Your whole family?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry, we’re not the mafia or anything. Go ask Dot about the men yesterday and then go to work. I’ll pick you up from your place at five thirty.” Georgie waited only long enough for Penelope to nod her agreement and then rushed out of the room.
Concern tightened Penelope’s muscles. This was a lot more than she suspected.
Did she really want to get involved?
***
By the end of the day, Penelope was ready for a shower. She’d received little in the way of extra information from Dot, only advice to call if she saw anything suspicious. The ocean was choppy, which made the journey to the island rough and unpleasant. She was damp, salty and had had enough sun to last her a while.
She drove back to her place to find Georgie waiting for her. Damn, she’d forgotten about dinner. Quickly, she got out of her car. “Sorry, I’m late.”
“Don’t stress, there’s no rush. Go have a shower.”
Penelope unlocked the door and led Georgie inside, conscious of how sparsely her house was furnished. “Can I get you a drink?”
“I’m fine.” Georgie grinned. “Go have a soak. You look as if you need it.”
Penelope pulled a face. “I look that bad, do I?”
“The ocean was rough today. I’ve been there.” Georgie made shooing motions and Penelope took her advice, spending time under the shower to wash away the salt and fatigue. When Penelope returned, Georgie was examining Penelope’s crocheting attempt.
“What is it?”
Penelope laughed. “It’s supposed to be a baby’s blanket.”
Georgie’s raised eyebrows spoke volumes. “Amy knits. Maybe you should bring it out and ask for advice.”
Though her cheeks warmed, she didn’t mind the gentle teasing from Georgie. “I’ll show her a photo if the topic comes up.” She snapped a photo with her phone and followed Georgie out of the house.
An hour later Georgie pulled into a dirt driveway which had an aggressive looking ram on it, that was also kind of cute. “Nice painting.”
“My brother Charlie painted it before he died.”
Penelope cringed. “I’m sorry.”
“It always makes me smile, and Charlie would get a kick out of knowing it was still here, announcing the entrance to the station.”
“How big is the station?”
“About a quarter of a million acres,” Georgie said. “We farm sheep, but we’ve also just started a campground.” She gestured to the myriad caravans and tents set up behind a horse yard and sheds.
To Penelope it was all red dirt and straggly bushes. How could anything survive out here, particularly something like sheep? “How long has your family owned the land?”
“Since 1871,” Georgie answered, and she pulled up outside a farmhouse, which looked as if it had been added to over the years.
“Wow.” It must have been one of the first settlements in the area.
A blue heeler barked and trotted down the back steps to stand next to the driver’s side door. “Hey, Bennett.” Georgie patted the dog and Penelope followed her up the steps to the porch.
