Page 28 of Sweet Obsession
Jillian hurried up the porch steps, acutely aware of the cameras following her movement. Mrs. Kirby stood, folded her chair with practiced efficiency, and ushered Jillian toward the front door.
“Lovely visiting with you all,” Mrs. Kirby called over her shoulder to the reporters, quietly closing the door and turning the lock behind them.
“That,” Jillian waved a thumb over her shoulder in the general direction of the front yard, “was the most impressive thing I have ever seen.”
Sara Kirby simply smiled. “Nonsense, dear. Just a bit of housekeeping.” She patted Jillian’s arm.
“Hello!” Blake’s voice came through the cell phone that Jillian momentarily forgot she was holding.
“Sorry. We’re still here.”
“And the reporters?”
Jillian glanced through the lace curtains. “Are leaving.”
“You’re kidding? Maybe I should have Grams march over here and dispatch the reporters still camping out on Mom and Dad’s lawn.”
“Do you need me, dear? I’m sure I can teach your reporters a thing or two about good manners if you’d like.”
Through the speaker phone, Blake chuckled. “Thanks, Grams, but I’m sure it will be fine. As soon as they stop rummaging through the trash, I can probably sneak down the alley the same way I got here. Jillian, since I’m stuck here for the immediate future, you might as well go ahead and update Grams on everything happening.”
“Everything?”
“If you don’t mind.”
She shook her head even though he couldn’t see her through the phone. “Got it.”
“Thanks. You’re pretty awesome yourself.”
A few more words and assurances and the call was disconnected. Placing the phone in her purse, Jillian turned to Mrs. Kirby. “About that secret woman the reporters are looking for…”
Chapter Fourteen
Blake stared out the kitchen window, nursing his second cup of coffee and watching the morning light stretch across the Sweet Ranch. Two days had passed since Jillian’s rescue mission to his grandmother’s house, and while some of the reporters had apparently gotten bored and moved on to more interesting celebrities, like vultures waiting for roadkill, too many were still lurking around Honeysuckle.
Today was the day. Dr. Crawford’s appointment was scheduled later this afternoon in Miller’s Creek. Somehow they had to get his grandmother there without creating a media circus that would follow them all the way to the specialist’s office.
“Any brilliant ideas brewing in that coffee?” Alice slid a plate of scrambled eggs in front of him and another in front of her daughter.
“Still working on it.” Blake picked up his fork, though his appetite had pretty much disappeared along with his peace of mind. “We can’t exactly waltz out the front door with Grams and hope nobody notices.”
“We could maybe do it in waves?” Jillian shrugged. “I could pick Ms. Sara up and maybe take her to the beauty parlor, get her nails done. Then come back to get you, while Mom goes into town to pick your grandmother up. They’ll never think anything of Mom and your grandmother.”
“Not a bad idea,” her mother nodded, “then we can all meet up somewhere out of town and y’all head to the doctor and I’ll head home.”
“Something like that.” Jillian stabbed at her eggs.
The plan had possibilities. “Better than just waltzing out the door with her.” Though, after his misjudgment on how this talk to the press would go, he was leery to follow any new plan.
Brady, who had been dozing by the back door, suddenly lifted his head. His ears snapped to attention, and a low growl rumbled in his chest.
Coming down the steps, Kade’s gaze narrowed at the unsettled dog. “What is it, boy?”
“At least we know it’s not you coming home for a surprise visit.” Their mother’s tone was teasing yet laced with just enough reproof for not having let her know he was coming home. Her gaze turned toward the dog.
Brady rose to his feet, a rigid line from nose to tail. He paced a tight, agitated circle, his gaze fixed on the front windows, the fur along his spine raised. The growl deepened.
Blake set down his coffee cup.
