“Don’t call me that.” Jamie’s voice came out tight.
“I’m just messing with you, James.” Ruth laughed, chewing her gum. “How’s the ranch?”
“Call me an Uber. Now.”
A pause. Then, “Uh . . . sure. Where to?”
“Shorty’s.” Jamie pressed her fingers to her temple. “I’ll explain everything when I get there.”
Jamie collected her toiletries from the bathroom and looked into the mirror. She hadn’t worn any makeup since arriving in Franklin, but she couldn’t risk looking bad if some paparazzo snapped her picture. She skipped the base coat and applied eyeliner, mascara, blush, and lipstick. She removed her topknot, flipped her hair upside down to add some volume, and shook it out. She tossed her head back and shrieked, “Holy shit!”
“Sorry!” Clayton said, standing behind her. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Well, you did.”
He pointed to the mirror. “It’s Jamie Keaton!”
“What do you want?” she quipped.
“Real sorry about Duke.” He dipped his head, letting the silence settle for a second before looking back up, a slow grin spreading. “But hey, darlin’, we’re going to be grandparents!”
“I love that for you,” she snapped, arms crossed tight.
“Look, I didn’t know Poppy wasn’t spayed.”
“Neither did I.” She continued, “I rescued her from a shelter and I assumed they’d done it. I mean, she never gets her period.” She turned around and placed her hands on her hips. “Why isn’t Duke fixed?”
“He will be after this. Nolan said big dogs ought to wait a year.”
“Duke’s a puppy who’s going to have puppies?”
“He’s turning one this month,” he said, following her out of the bathroom. “The girls can hardly wait. They got their hearts set on taking one of the puppies—if that’s all right?”
“Fine by me.” Jamie folded the pile of clothes she’d left on the bed. “They can take all of them as far as I’m concerned.”
“Duke’s their first dog and they’re crazy about him.” He continued, “Tammy never did want a dog in the house when she lived here.”
“Why not?” she asked, deliberately avoiding his gaze. “Is she allergic or something?”
“She doesn’t like them.”
Jamie scoffed. “Who doesn’t like dogs?”
Clayton’s ex-wife sounded like a real gem.
He exhaled sharply and pointed at her suitcase resting on the bed. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” She yanked the zipper closed with more force than necessary.
“You’re leaving because of this?” His voice edged toward disbelief.
She let out a dry, humorless laugh. “No, Clayton.” She turned to face him, hands planted on her hips. “I need to finish my album. I can’t stay here forever playing Little House on the Prairie.”
“What about those threats?” Clayton asked, his voice tight with concern.
Jamie sighed, shoving another shirt into her already overstuffed suitcase. “I’m not worried about it.”
“Well I am.”
