Crops and Robbers Read Online Free PDF Page B

and seen Hobbit’s ears perk up a few minutes before I got home. Hobbit had put her nose in the air, sniffed as though she could locate the scent of my truck’s fumes, and then made her way to her spot on the porch.
    But today, as I pulled into the driveway, the dog bed, the entire porch, in fact, was empty of life, canine or otherwise. I looked around my property. Nothing else looked out of place; the house was fine, and the converted barn that housed my kitchen was in one piece, the door shut tightly. My pumpkin patch was thickening with green vines, and the leaves on my strawberries looked undisturbed.
    And Hobbit was nowhere to be seen.

Three

    I threw myself out of the truck. Logically, there wasn’t any reason to be in such a panic until I searched the property thoroughly, but I couldn’t remember one day when Hobbit hadn’t been on the porch.
    “Hobbit, hey girl!” I yelled as I cupped my hands around my mouth.
    I hurried into the house, checking her dog door on the way. Everything was fine, nothing was out of place. Nothing was wrong except that Hobbit wasn’t anywhere. She sometimes stayed with Ian or his landlord, George, but I remembered specifically that she was home with me this morning and we hadn’t made plans for her to be somewhere else.
    I rushed though the back sliding doors and yelled for her again. My crops traveled up some small slopes in the land, and they were definitely undisturbed. I shielded my eyes with my hand and looked off into the wooded distance. There was no sign of any living creature, my dog included.
    I ran back around to the front of the house, still calling her name and still receiving no response. I’d left my truck running, so I switched it off, put the keys in my pocket, and yelled some more.
    The thought that something bad might have happened to Hobbit ripped a hole in my soul. She’d come into my life the day that my second ex-husband had left it, and she’d been the best relationship I’d ever had. In fact, I often thought that if she’d come into my life sooner, I might not have made such compulsive decisions when it came to marriage. If I’d placed an expectation for a man to be half the person my dog was, I would have ruled out husband number two completely. Husband number one might have made the cut but only barely.
    “Hobbit,” I said as I felt panic tighten my throat. I didn’t have time to cry, though.
    I sniffed just as I heard a muffled bark.
    “Hobbit?” I said. “Where are you, girl?”
    Another muffled bark greeted me.
    “Are you in the barn?” I said as I ran for my converted barn. I’d inherited the property from my uncle Stanley and aunt Ruth. It had originally been my uncle’s dream to make jams and preserves, and he’d turned the barn into an ultramodern kitchen. When he and Ruth were killed in a car accident, his dream had transformed into my dream and I’d made good use of the modern appliances.
    But the kitchen had been off-limits to Hobbit. She’d taken the news well and seemed to understand that animals hanging around during food preparation didn’t make for the most sanitary environment. As I sprinted to the door, I wondered if I’d somehow forgotten to lock it that morning. If I had, it was the first time I’d ever done such a thing.
    I noticed but didn’t digest the fact that the frame next to the doorknob was scratched, deep gouges digging into the wood. I was intent on one thing, so I flung open the unlocked door and was greeted by the object of my search.
    Hobbit jumped up, her paws landing on my stomach, and we melted into a happy greeting. She was as pleased to see me as I was to see her.
    “Oh, girl,” I said as I went down to my knees. “I was so worried!”
    The relief I felt over finding her lasted only until I realized she was getting jam all over both of us. Her paws were covered in the sticky red substance, and our happy moment was spreading it all over my white T-shirt and short overalls.
    “Hang on, girl,”