The Sweetgum Ladies Knit for Love by Beth Pattillo Page B

around. Usually she kept the portable handset nearby, but it wasn’t on the bed or the nightstand.
    “Where is that thing?” She climbed out of bed and went in search of the receiver, found it, and then paused when she didn’t recognize the number on the caller ID.
Wireless Caller
, the display said.
    She pressed the button to answer. “Hello?”
    “Mrs. Jackson?” The deep male voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.
    “Yes.”
    The caller cleared his throat. “This is Brody McCullough. We met week before last out on the lake road. I helped you with the dog. The vet’s office gave me your name and number.”
    “Oh, yes. I remember.” For no discernible reason, she felt her heartbeat accelerate. “What can I do for you?”
    “How’s the dog doing? Was Doc Everton able to help him?”
    “Yes, yes. He’s going to be fine. His hip was displaced, but the vet took care of that.”
    “Is the dog still at the animal hospital?”
    “Actually, no. He’s here with me.”
    There was a long pause. “With you?”
    Esther bristled at the hint of disbelief in the man’s tone. “I can assure you, Mr.—I’m sorry, what did you say your name was again?”
    “Brody McCullough.”
    “I can assure you, Mr. McCullough, that the dog is in good hands.”
    “I didn’t mean—”
    “I’m sure you didn’t.” But her tone let him know that sheknew exactly what he’d meant. “Is there anything else, Mr. McCullough?”
    “I’m sorry if I offended you. You just didn’t seem to be a dog kind of person, and if he was still at Doc Everton’s, I was going to offer to take him off their hands.”
    “You want the dog?”
    “Want? No. But I’ve got room enough at my place, and I thought I’d at least offer until I could find him a good home.”
    That took a bit of the wind out of her sails. “Oh. Well, it was nice of you to follow up.” She paused, unsure what else to say.
    “The thing is…” His voice trailed off
    “Yes?”
    “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, Mrs. Jackson, but are you sure you want to deal with that dog?”
    Anger sparked in her chest. “Mr. McCullough, are you implying that I would neglect or hurt that animal? As I recall, I’m the one who rescued him.”
    “You were also the one who hit him.”
    “Well, I never—”
    “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right.”
    “No. It didn’t.” She clamped her mouth shut and bit back the words that wanted to spew forth. Esther refused to admit that perhaps a bit of the sting came from her own conscience. She didn’t really want the dog, had only agreed to bring it home so that she wouldn’t look heartless in the eyes of Dr. Everton and his assistants. But now, after Mr. McCullough’s comments…
    Did she really appear so unfeeling to the world?
    The thought hit her hard, extinguishing the little flames of anger. The veterinarian had only reluctantly turned the dog over to her. And now a complete stranger was questioning her fitness to care for the animal.
    “Mrs. Jackson—”
    “Please call me Esther.” While the words invited informality, her chilly tone did not.
    The man sighed. “I’ve offended you, and I apologize. I shouldn’t have judged you—”
    “But you did.” She didn’t want to continue this conversation. “I can assure you that the dog is safe. Good night, Mr. McCullough.” She moved her finger to the Off button.
    “Wait—”
    Something in his tone kept her from disconnecting the call. “Yes?”
    “I’m not usually such a cretin.”
    “Cretin?” An impressive vocabulary for a farmer, she thought, and then cringed when she realized how snobbish the thought was.
    “I owe you an apology. More than an apology.” Brody McCullough paused. “I don’t expect you’ll agree to this, but I’d like to buy you dinner to make up for my insult.”
    Esther swallowed back the sharp retort that rose to her lips. Men’s minds were so difficult to understand. Why would he think that spending more time in