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giraffe in flats with an attitude. “One bag, Mrs. Townsend. House rule.”
    The woman’s tone was anything but compliant. “Surely you’re not serious.”
    â€œYes, ma’am. I surely am.” Katie flashed a smile. Judge Amy would throttle her if she failed to protect this woman, but she had a feeling the woman was going to be hard to control.
    Clara stared at her for a full minute before heaving a sigh of disgust. “All right, one stinking bag.”
    Well, it doesn’t have to be stinking, Mrs. Townsend.
    The men began to organize her bags into one full of the essentials, and Clara, lips pursed, snapped, “I will require a private room and bath.”
    Katie bit back a snort. Yeah, right . The shelter women were going to love this one. They’d eat Townsend alive, especially Meg. Young, tough Meg, fresh off the streets, single and pregnant, could hold her own with anyone except the boyfriend who’d beat her so badly he’d put her in the hospital for a long stay. By now the entourage reached the jeep, and Clara peeled off the black wig, leaving her natural short-cropped, flame red hair standing in spikes. She glanced at Katie, her eyes daring her to say something. “It’s hot and it itches. But it served its purpose. No one noticed me.”
    Why, not a living soul in Little Bush — a town of three hundred — would think anything was amiss if they spotted two strange men wearing dark glasses and juggling six designer bags between them, stepping out of a private jet with a large T emblazoned on the tail stabilizer. “To err on caution’s side, I’m going to ask you to wear the wig until we reach the shelter.”
    The woman didn’t like the order, but Katie was relieved when the politician put the wig back on. The men loaded her bag in the jeep and stepped back.
    Clara stared out the window as Katie wheeled out of the parking lot and headed back to the shelter. “How far are we from civilization?”
    â€œThis is as civilized as it gets.” Katie drew a deep, appreciative
breath and nearly choked on the smell of smoke coming through the open window. “Fresh air and wide open spaces.”
    The woman turned to stare at her. “You’re kidding, right? What do we do to keep from going mad?”
    Katie made a right turn onto the highway. “We have books and television, hiking trails, and of course, I encourage our guests to help with chores. Make their beds, help with laundry, kitchen work.”
    Clara snorted. “In your dreams.”
    Katie mentally sighed and shifted into third gear. How far off was that election? Less than four weeks? Thank you, Lord. Until tonight Katie had been undecided in the Senate race, but her mind was suddenly crystal clear. She couldn’t remember offhand the name of Clara’s opponent, but whoever it was, he or she had just gained another vote.
    Katie Addison’s.

Three
    Well, then those people just need to acquire a taste for soy products!” Katie slammed down the receiver, seething. Oh, Ben was glad to help, only he was taking his own good time locating the horses’ owner.
    â€œWhoever owns those animals are making a hefty profit,” he’d pointed out with the aplomb of a terrorist. “You really think they’d give them to you instead of selling them for meat?”
    That’s when she’d said the European market needed to acquire a taste for soy products, which made Ben snort.
    Taking a deep breath, Katie drummed her fingernails on the counter, Grandpops’s voice ringing in her head. “It’s a crying shame, just a crying shame.” Life’s setbacks were either the government’s fault or a crying shame with him. Katie must have gotten her faith from Grandmoms. She never recalled a time when Willa complained about anything. Everything was just fine. Really good. Couldn’t be better, happier, or healthier. The roof could