Joanna looked from one face to the other. “Grateful,” she said at last. “It could have been so much worse.”
The meeting broke up several minutes later. Back in her office, Joanna found she already had a stack of messages. She was reaching for the phone to return the first one when it rang before she could pick it up.
“Joanna, how are you?” Eleanor Lathrop Winfield asked without preamble. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Mother,” Joanna replied. “I guess I’m a little tired, but otherwise fine. How are you?”
“Busy,” Eleanor replied briskly. “Maggie Dixon, Eva Lou, Marcie, and I just came back from the house.” Marcie Brundage was Joanna’s sister-in-law, the wife of a brother who had been put up for adoption by Joanna’s not-yet-married parents. Only recently, after the death of his adoptive parents, had Bob Brundage sought out his birth family.
“The men are busy as can be,” Eleanor rattled on. “They’ve brought in a Dumpster to clean the mess into. Milo has an insurance adjuster on the scene monitoring everything that’s broken and keeping track of whatever’s being hauled out. That way, in case Reba Singleton doesn’t pay up, you’ll at least be able to file an insurance claim.”
Milo Davis of the Davis Insurance Agency had once been Joanna’s boss. Even now, several years later, he remained her insurance agent.
“Watching all that stuff being thrown out was just too hard on Eva Lou,” Eleanor continued. “She couldn’t bear to watch, since so much of your furniture used to be hers. I’m sure Butch noticed how upset she was. I believe that’s why he suggested we girls run some errands for him. He gave us a list. We’re off to Tucson to see what we can do about it.”
The idea of Joanna’s sister-in-law, her former mother-in-law, her mother-in-law-to-be, and her mother all driving around in the same car together struck terror in Joanna’s very soul. There was no telling what might happen. “What kind of list?” she asked warily.
“Never you mind,” Eleanor replied firmly. “But I do have one piece of wonderful news.”
“What’s that?”
“I talked to a girl from Nordstrom’s. I called their company headquarters up in Seattle, and guess what? Once I told them what had happened, they managed to locate another dress just like your wedding dress—same size, same color, everything. They found it in their store in San Francisco. They’re Fed-Exing it out today—this afternoon. It should arrive here in Bisbee tomorrow. Early afternoon, one-thirty at the latest. What do you think of that?”
The fact that her wedding dress no longer existed had been such a huge stumbling block in Joanna’s mind that she hadn’t even allowed herself to think about it, much less go searching for a solution. Now she didn’t have to. Eleanor had solved the problem for her.
“I can barely believe it, Mom,” Joanna said with a lump in her throat. “In fact, it’s pretty damned wonderful—and so are you.”
“Thank you, Joanna. Now don’t you worry. I’m sure we’ll soon have everything under control.”
After Joanna put down the phone, she buried her face in her hands and allowed herself the luxury of a good cry. It was only when she finished crying and was blowing her nose that she realized one other important thing about that conversation with her mother. For the very first time, in all the months Eleanor Lathrop Winfield had known the man, she had called her future son-in-law Butch instead of Frederick.
It indicated a sea change in her mother’s attitude, and that was pretty damned wonderful, too.
CHAPTER 27
That morning the phone calls and messages that came to Joanna’s office gave telling testimony as to what was right with small-town America. One of the first messages came from Daisy Maxwell, who left word that her husband Moe would be taking enough food to feed a work crew of fifteen out to High Lonesome Ranch at lunchtime. If the crew was larger than that and more food was needed, just give her a call.
The messages included expressions of sympathy, concern, and outrage. There were offers of replacement furniture and appliances, offers to do free repairs and painting, to say nothing of offers of places to stay while the repairs were being made. The outpouring of sympathy was similar to the ones that had occurred when Andy died. The difference was, at the time of her husband’s death, Joanna had been in too much emotional pain to appreciate or even notice the many kindnesses of friends and neighbors. This time she noticed, and she was overwhelmed with gratitude.
Between calls and while she waited for Frank Montoya to return to the Justice Complex with Lucy Ridder, Joanna tried to work. She attempted to call Adam York but was unable to reach him. She dealt with some of her routine paperwork, but that day Joanna Brady’s heart wasn’t in the task of conquering her current batch of mail. Around eleven she checked in with Detective Carpenter.