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won’t.” Doug knew better than to crank on a young hound, but he cheerfully took the advice. Some people couldn’t stand to be told what they already knew but Douglas was an easygoing fellow.
    Diana scurried to the den opening, spread her front paws far apart, and stuck her head down the entrance as far as it would go. To her surprise, Inky was coming out to see the pack leave. They touched noses.
    This surprised Diana. She jumped back and sat down blinking. Inky did the same thing. Then the smallish black fox crept up closer to the entrance to get a better look at the hound.
    The two looked at each other. Then Inky, hearing Douglas, ducked back in.
    â€œDiana. Come along,” he sang out to her.
    She hurried to him but thought to herself,
“They’re like us. They’re dogs.”
She’d only smelled fox. She’d never seen one before.
    Douglas soon joined the others, the rain beating down on them in sheets.
    â€œThought you said this would clear up,” Betty, riding next to Sister, complained.
    â€œI thought it would.”
    â€œYou say that every time the weather gets filthy. ‘Oh, it will pass.’ ” Betty mimicked Sister’s voice, an amber alto.
    â€œIt does pass.”
    â€œIn two days or two weeks.” Betty laughed.
    Cody rode over to Douglas. They were on the hounds’ left. Jennifer was on the right as Sister and Betty now brought up the rear.
    â€œHi,” Cody said.
    â€œHi,” he replied.
    They rode along, water spilling over their cap brims.
    â€œYou aren’t very talkative.”
    â€œI think you’re making a big mistake,” he replied.

CHAPTER 5
    The world was wrapped in silver-gray. Fontaine couldn’t see the town square from his office window at Mountain Landscapes, the rain was so heavy.
    Marty Howard buzzed him. “Mr. Buruss, Mrs. Arnold is here to see you.”
    â€œI’ll be right there.” Surprised, he pressed the disconnect button on his intercom, stood up, and checked himself in the mirror. He straightened his charcoal-gray tie with the small fuchsia squares; then he strode into the small well-appointed reception room, beaming, hand outstretched. “Sister, what a pleasure to see you on such a wicked day.”
    She smiled. “You’re a fair-weather foxhunter.”
    â€œI certainly was today. Come on in.” He winked at Marty, her blond hair in a long braid down her back. “Bring Sister a steaming cup of coffee.”
    â€œWe were just discussing that. We were also discussing you giving me Tuesday mornings off so I can hunt. I’ll work late Wednesdays,” Marty said, happy to have Sister standing there.
    â€œTwo against one. Not fair.” Fontaine, black hair razor cut to perfection, tan despite the season, wagged his finger at his good-looking secretary. Each time he thought of the distress he caused Crawford Howard, he laughed silently. Fontaine lightly cupped Sister’s elbow, leading her into his office, a hymn to eclecticism.
    She sat on the burgundy leather sofa. “Fontaine, I’ll get to the point.”
    â€œYou usually do, Mother Superior.”
    â€œFirst, you didn’t fix the coop you smashed.” She held up her hand as he started to apologize. “I know what happened there. But you wrecked it. You fix it. Those are the rules. Now as to the situation that caused it, talk to me.”
    The rainy weather affected his energy. He got up to pace on the other side of a coffee table inlaid with granite. He thought moving around would wake him up. “Chalk and cheese. Simple as that.”
    â€œI understand that.” Marty lightly knocked on the door, bringing in half-coffee, half-cream, Sister’s favorite midday drink. “Oh, thank you, Marty. By the way, I think Cochise is going very well. You’ve worked wonders with that stinker,” she said, referring to Marty’s horse.
    â€œHe just needed time. He’s