Changes of Heart by Paige Lee Elliston Page A

their paths.
    That’s something. That’s something good . She said a brief prayer for the pilots of the two fighters she could no longer see or hear, and hefted herself to her feet. She wavered dizzily for a moment; her right knee was throbbing now, her body aching. She wiped the blood from her left palm on her jeans and inspected the cuts. They were minor—little more than light abrasions seeping a bit of blood. She shookher head to clear it, not wanting to leave this place, at least not quite yet. Maybe it was the utter solitude or the strange kinship she felt with the settlers who’d lost their child, or perhaps it was the tomblike silence, but this inhospitable and infertile piece of land was where she needed to be, and that was enough reason.
    Maggie limped toward the battered soddy, favoring her right leg. What had once been a home was now an overgrown hovel dug into the side of a hill. There was little to see. Supporting timbers had collapsed inside the cavelike excavation, and the interior was thick with scrub growth that had taken root in the dirt floor. She took a shuffling step forward, heard the blood-chilling rasp of a rattlesnake’s warning from inside, and scurried backward, the pain of her knee momentarily forgotten. The shade given over the smaller rock where she’d been sitting had grown a bit as the sun moved through the sky, and she returned to her seat and leaned back, closing her eyes.
    Ellie’s words about Danny Pulver returned to her mind, and with them her own questions about the man.
    What do I know about Dr. Daniel Pulver? He’s a great vet and I’m in love with his dog. He’s from Maine and studied at Cornell Veterinary School. He admitted that Cornell was very difficult and that he had to sweat and grind for the good—although not stellar—grades he got. He’s never been married and doesn’t seem to be close to the family he left in Maine .
    Maggie stretched her right leg out in front of her. There didn’t seem to be fresh blood at the tear in her jeans, but the entire limb was throbbing.
    Danny was quiet—but he was funny too—at least at times, and with people with whom he felt comfortable. A loner? Maybe. But he’d dated a few locals over the past couple of years. Julie Downs, the reporter at the News-Express , had gone to a movie with him a year or so ago, and then, a couple weeks later, to dinner. After that, Julie said he didn’t call, and it was clear she wished he had.
    A slight breeze moved over the plateau where Maggie sat, and the touch of it against the sweat on her face was delightfully cool.
    Could he be in love with me, just as Ellie believes? Is it possible he had those feelings even before Richie died ? Maggie shook her head. He’s a Christian. He wouldn’t allow himself into a state of covetousness. His faith is too strong . But suppose he’d gone to Ellie for counseling, and she’d inadvertently—because of her Alzheimer’s—shared with Maggie what Danny had told her?
    Maggie sighed and stood, using her hands against the big rock to help herself up. Too many questions and not enough answers. She started toward the edge of the rise, realizing that the seat of her jeans was going to take a beating on the way down to her truck, because her right leg was stiff and her knee screamed at her when she put weight on the right side of her body.

    Danny’s SUV was gone when Maggie parked near her barn, and both Turnip and Dakota were in the small fenced paddock, cropping grass, their coats shining from recentgrooming. Maggie limped to the house. A note tacked to the door, written on one of Danny’s prescription blanks, fluttered at her. She took it down and read it.
    Maggie—
    I saw you turn away from your driveway earlier. I hope I’m not chasing you away from your own home. Is everything OK?
    Danny
    Maggie sighed and went into her house. There were four or five cans of Diet Pepsi and an almost full carton of grapefruit juice in the refrigerator, but