said Doc Spencer, stepping in from the cold. “You say that every week,” said Candy. She closed the door behind him and reached for his coat. “And I mean it. So this time I brought you a little something.” He handed her a carefully wrapped package he’d hidden behind his back. “Flowers? For me?” Candy’s eyes widened. “I’m sure your horse would enjoy them too, but I brought Bess an apple instead. You might want to put those in water.” Candy stared at the package in her hands, looked up and blushed. “Oh, right.” As he had since before Adam was born, Doc hung up his coat and hat, toed off his boots and pulled slippers out of his pockets. He followed Candy out of the mud room and settled himself in his favorite padded armchair. He put his slippers on and rested his feet on the stool just before a white cat jumped into his lap. He automatically rubbed furry ears. A calico mewed on the floor, but he only had enough room for one. No one dared to have pets in the house while Grant Richardson lived.
