Marshall pushed the treadmill to go faster, hoping he could keep up. He’d been running for forty minutes, and he probably should stop before he blew out a knee. Now that he was thirty-eight, high-impact exercise had real risks.
He’d begged out of a cake party at Esther’s last night, citing a sore back and aching arms. Sorting suckers and planting slips was no job for the weak, as Marshall had learned the hard way. But Esther would be joining him at his office today, and she’d promised to bring the cake with his usual morning coffee.
They were getting a late start to the morning, but Marshall had been up at his usual early hour. He was glad the boards were gone from his windows, and that nothing around his property had been too badly damaged. He’d lost the patio set he’d really liked, but
