For now.
Micah parked near the side entrance of the house, and they both sat in the SUV a moment without moving.
Grace stirred in her car seat but didn’t wake.
“She did great today,” Micah finally said.
“Yes.” Naomi looked back at the baby. “She did, didn’t she?”
She reached for the door handle, but Micah’s voice stopped her.
“Naomi.”
She looked at him.
“Stay alert,” Micah said. “Okay? Until we figure out who left that note.”
She nodded. “I will.”
He held her gaze a beat longer before nodding and stepping out of the vehicle.
Naomi climbed out then unbuckled the car seat carrier and lifted it. While she did that, Micah grabbed the diaper bag and fell into step beside her as they headed toward the house.
Before Micah even reached the door, Ruby stepped outside.
Her gaze from Naomi to Micah and back again. “Well, hello, you two.”
“Hello, Ruby,” Micah called.
“Micah, good to see you. You staying for lunch?” She tilted her head and gave him a pointed look. “Before you answer, just know that I won’t take no for an answer.”
He couldn’t help but smile. Ruby King had a way of making invitations sound like decisions that had already been made.
“I made chicken salad,” she continued. “Everyone always raves about the recipe. It will make you want to slap your mama—something I don’t condone, by the way.”
Micah’s mouth twitched. “Well, I can’t turn down an invitation like that.”
He glanced at Naomi, half-expecting her to look uncomfortable with the idea of him staying. But she just adjusted her grip on the car seat carrier and gave a small nod.
“Good.” Ruby smiled as if satisfied then held the door open. “Come on in before the cold gets in with you.”
They stepped inside, and the warmth of the house wrapped around them.
The yellow lab appeared from the living room at a full run, tail wagging so hard his whole back end swayed. He went straight to Naomi, jumped up to say hi, and then circled back to sniff at the car seat carrier with interest.
“No jumping,” Naomi murmured. “It’s bad manners.”
As if he understood, he sat down and looked up at her.
Naomi set the carrier on the entryway floor and crouched, rubbing the dog’s head with both hands. “Hey, Good Boy. Did you miss me?”
Micah raised an eyebrow. “Good Boy?”
Naomi looked up, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Temporary name. I couldn’t keep calling him ‘the dog.’”
“Fair enough.”
She straightened, her hand still resting on the dog’s head. “By the way, someone called about him. Says Good Boy is his dog.”
