“Still, a young man at twenty-two should have been dating, not running a spread the size of the Double C.” Mrs. Givens tsked her disapproval.
Zoe agreed, knowing better than anybody what it had cost Grant to take over the ranch at age twenty-two, leaving his dad and stepmother free to move to Portland like Lottie had wanted. He’d given up his plans for a career on the east coast and lost his fiancée all in one devastating blow.
He’d resurrected the career, on his own playing field…but not the relationship. And he hadn’t had another serious one since.
“Not that he hasn’t done his share of dating these past six years. He’s very photogenic.” Which was the older woman’s way of alluding to Grant’s many pictures in the press with the supermodels and actresses who graced his arm socially.
Linda was the daughter of an aging rock star who’d breezed into town and thought nothing of dating the area’s most eligible bachelor…until he’d gone into “protect Zoe” mode.
Mrs. Givens smiled conspiratorially with Zoe. “I’m sure you know more than the tabloids even…”
The woman was an inveterate gossip, and Zoe had no intention of responding to the thinly veiled hint to share what she knew of Grant’s lovelife.
“It’s to be expected, I suppose.” She ushered her landlady to the table, where she had already laid out the tea things. “I’m trying a new apricot blend tea. I hope you like it.”
“That sounds lovely, dear.” Mrs. Givens was a true tea connoisseur. She went to sit down and an ear-splitting yowl assaulted Zoe’s ears. Alexander must have been sitting on the chair again.
Mrs. Givens shot up from the chair, stumbled one step forward, and fell over Princess. She gasped and crashed to her knees on the carpet. Her blond wig went askew and her thinning gray hair stuck out on all sides. Her polyester dress rode up so that the tops of her knees were exposed, and nausea climbed up Zoe’s throat.
Not today. The tea had been an attempt to stay on the good side of her landlady, but now disaster loomed darkly on Zoe’s horizon. Feeling doomed, she rushed to the woman’s side and lifted Mrs. Givens to her feet. “I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”
The older woman took several gasping breaths. “I…I…”
Zoe pushed her into the now empty chair. “Sit down. I’m sure you will feel better in a few minutes.” She patted Mrs. Givens shoulder, not at all sure the older woman would feel better in the next millennium. Her expression was not promising. “Let me pour you a cup of tea.”
Mrs. Givens nodded, causing her wig to tip further over her left ear. “A cup of tea. Yes. That would be nice.” She rose unsteadily to her feet. “But first I think I’ll freshen up in your powder room.”
“Certainly.” Zoe helped Mrs. Givens to the closet-sized bathroom—remembering the hamster hidden in there only when a truly awful sound emerged from behind the closed door.
The landlady came tearing out of the bathroom, her eyes wild. She pointed a trembling finger at Zoe. “You have a rodent in your…your…”
“His name is Bud. He’s a hamster. While technically still rodents, hamsters are domesticated and quite safe as pets.”
The expression of horror convulsing Mrs. Givens’ features didn’t auger well for Zoe’s chances of explaining her way out of the situation. She tried anyway. “Please. It will be all right. Bud is harmless.”
Mrs. Givens shook her head violently, causing her wig to fall to the floor. Princess and Alexander immediately attacked it with all the fervor of hunting felines left in a cramped apartment for too long.
“My wig,” Mrs. Givens wailed. Her hands flew to her head as she tried to hide the gray and white hair.
Wanting to cry, Zoe jumped to the rescue of the wig. She wrested it from the two cats and handed it to Mrs. Givens, who yanked it back on without much improvement in her appearance.
She stood up, trembling with indignation. “I have been more than tolerant.”
“Yes,” Zoe hastened to agree.
“I have put up with large dogs, screaming parrots, annoying cats, and even allowed you to keep your goat in the old chicken coop. But I will not stand for rodents.”
Zoe didn’t know what to say. Everything her landlady said was true. “I’m going to try to find a home for him. It won’t take me very long. Children love hamsters. I’m sure one of my students will be happy to take Bud home as a pet.”
Their parents would be even happier to get the paraphernalia that went along with a hamster for free.
Mrs. Givens sadly shook her head. “I know how much you love your animals, dear. But I simply will not abide a rat living in my home. Even if you found a home for him today, I would not feel safe. Who knows what you would bring home next?” She shuddered delicately. “You might even take it into your head to adopt a snake.”