Hayden’s headlights swept over the faded red lettering spelling out “Garrow” on the mailbox at the end of his drive. Not that he could actually read it in the gloom of snow and dusk, but he knew it was there and relief flooded his system. The drive from town out to Maudie Bell Ramsey’s place had been nerve wracking. A dozen times he was sure Miss Delia would slide off the road again and manage to take him and their four-legged cargo with her. But by some miracle, they’d finally arrived, seeing the two women safely to the door before driving the last mile to his own house in near whiteout conditions.
“Thank Jesus,” he murmured.
“We’re here?” She’d said almost nothing since they’d pulled the Cadillac out of the ditch.
“We’re here.”
“Oh, thank God.”
Hayden parked in front of the big meta
