Everyone knew Margery Windsor in Sawtooth and the surrounding areas.
Plus, she’d never shied away from motorcycle club parties, or town events, or even the grocery store.
She never stopped.
Until lately.
I’d known the moment I’d popped into her cottage when I arrived in town that she wasn’t doing well.
She could hide it over the phone.
But in person?
There was no missing that she’d lost weight.
“My mom is having issues,” Denver sighed. “Looking like she’s not going to make it much longer.”
The dinner was somber after that.
Margery was well loved among everyone, and there wasn’t much to celebrate once they’d learned that she was likely not going to make it much longer.
Denver, Boone, and I walked back to the vet clinic a half hour later, quiet and contemplative.
“What about moving her in with one of us?” I suggested.
Her out there by herself…
“You know she won’t do that willingly,” Denver pointed out. “She’s very independent.”
She was, the old bat.
“Let me work on her,” I suggested. “Boone has an extra room. I could say that I want her to be a part of the pregnancy.”
“Did you tell her?” Boone asked.
I shook my head. “I wanted to tell her with you.”
Boone looked like I’d shot him.
“Oh.” He swallowed.
Denver knocked him in the shoulder with his own. “Let her try. We’ve been failing on our own.”
Boone just shook his head. “Two stubborn women going head-to-head? What could go wrong?”
Denver chuckled and headed to his truck.
I headed to Boone’s passenger side, which he held open for me.
I got inside and he closed my door gently, then rounded the hood.
I saw the dark circles under his eyes and wondered if he’d gotten any sleep last night.
“What else is bothering you, Boone?” I wondered.
I’d always been able to sense when he was struggling, and right then he was thinking pretty hard.
“My grandmother may be old, but she hears all the gossip there is to hear.”
