Promises to Keep, Nan Rossiter [feel good fiction books .txt] 📗

company had renegotiated down the allowed expenses and paid their part. The remainder of his mom’s savings and her sizable life insurance benefit would be added to the trust, and a set sum would be deposited in Mason’s new checking account every month.

“Can you get by on that?” Beau asked, jotting a figure on a scrap of paper and peering at Mason over his glasses.

Mason swallowed. “I’m sure I can—I actually think it’s too much. The only real expenses I have are food and gas and utilities.”

Beau chuckled. “I’m sure there will be other things that come up . . . especially when you find yourself a pretty girl who wants to spend all your money . . . and then, you better look out!”

Mason smiled, thinking about Ali—he didn’t think she would ever want to spend all his money, and he would’ve loved to tell the kind gentleman all about her . . . except that her mother was sitting right next to him!

“How will it work if I decide to go to college?” Mason asked.

Beau looked up and frowned. “I thought you were going to college,” he said, sifting through his papers. “Your mom had me send a deposit to Georgia Tech for the fall semester, along with a letter explaining why it was late, and they confirmed receipt and are holding a place for you.” He looked up. “Am I wrong about this?”

Mason sat up in his chair. “Well, no, you’re not wro . . . She did that?” he asked, sounding stunned.

“She did. She called me . . . let’s see, it was . . .” He looked at the paperwork again. “It was toward the end of May, and she asked me to contact the school because, with everything going on, she said you had forgotten.” He looked up again. “She was so proud of you, and she said you were planning to major in aeronautical engineering and had already applied for—and been accepted into—the Air Force ROTC program, including a scholarship.” He looked down again. “She sent me copies of everything.”

Mason shook his head. He couldn’t believe—no, actually, he could believe it! Sue reached over and squeezed his hand. “Mason, if you don’t feel ready, I’m sure you can get a deferment.”

Mason swallowed and nodded. “I just thought it wasn’t an option because I missed the deadline.” He took a deep breath and let it out. His mom had been right—he didn’t have anything holding him back, except himself . . . and what was he going to do for the next year except continue to work for a landscaper and wander around an empty house? Even Ali was going to Emory and wouldn’t be around. “I don’t know,” he said uncertainly, and then he looked up. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“That’s fine,” Beau said, “but don’t think too long. Freshmen—or I guess they’re called ‘first-years’ now—are expected to arrive at the end of August . . . and athletes even sooner. Your mom mentioned you’re a runner.”

“Okay,” Mason said, nodding. “I’ll decide soon.”

“Okay, good.” He shuffled his papers and then spied a light blue envelope sticking out of the folder. “Oh, there’s one more thing . . . and it’s probably the most important thing,” he said, smiling. “At least to your mom.”

28

WHEN MAEVE PULLED INTO THE DRIVEWAY, SHE SAW GAGE DOWN NEAR the river behind the cabin, and as she walked through the grass and wildflowers toward him, she realized he was digging a hole. “I guess you didn’t like where we planted the blueberry bushes,” she teased, but when he looked up, she realized his eyes were rimmed with tears. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her face suddenly shadowed with worry.

He motioned to Gus lying solemnly on the grass next to the lifeless body of the fox. “Oh, no!” she said softly. “What happened?”

“I heard a commotion, looked out, and the fox was inside the fence again—she’d dug a hole behind the coop.” He shook his head. “I had to, Maeve,” he blurted, “or she’d keep coming back,” he said, trying to justify his actions. “What’s the point of having chickens if . . .”

“I know,” she consoled. “You did the right thing. What else could you do?”

He nodded. “And that’s not the worst part,” he said. “You were right—she did have a kit. It peeked out of the grass right afterward and then it just lay down next to her.”

Maeve took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Just one?”

“That’s all I saw.”

“Did it run off?”

“No. It’s a he . . . and he was inside the fence, too, and he couldn’t find his way out, so I was able to catch him, but what the hell am I going to do with a baby fox?”

“Where is he now?”

“In Gus’s old dog crate.”

Maeve nodded thoughtfully, wondering if a wild baby fox could be domesticated.

Gage eyed her. “I know what you’re thinking, but I am not keeping him or trying to turn him into a pet. I have enough going on . . . besides, his instinct is to hunt, so the hens would never be safe, and I would’ve killed his mother for nothing.”

“I know,” Maeve said. “You’re right, but maybe we can find a wildlife rehabilitator who takes in injured and orphaned animals.”

Gage nodded. “Maybe.”

“I’ll see if I can find someone online.” She started to walk back to the cabin, but stopped and turned around. “Are the hens okay?”

“Yeah. Just traumatized.”

She nodded, turned back, and Gus—who was watching her—gave the lifeless body of the enemy one last sniff and trotted after her . . . just in case she was planning to have a snack. She smiled and tousled his soft ears as they crossed the lawn. When they reached the porch, though, the fur between Gus’s shoulders stood up on end and he stopped in his tracks. Maeve followed his gaze and realized the dog crate was on the porch and the baby fox was trying to dig his way out. She knelt down next to the crate and the fox quickly scampered to the back corner, almost taking an unplanned swim in the water bowl Gage had put in the crate. “It’s okay,”