She just had to get more organized, that was all. She could do this. The blessing was that business was booming as more and more people heard about her and her services.
Abandoning the effort to get Daisy’s harness on for the moment, she looked out onto the porch. Gus, bless his patient heart, had lain down and was snoozing.
Next, she kissed Penny’s forehead. Was it a little warmer than usual? She thought so, but wasn’t good at judging such things and she hadn’t brought a thermometer.
The baby’s temperature had been normal this morning, though. No doubt she was just a little hot from the excitement.
She turned back to Daisy again, and by a mixture of pleading and scolding and luring with treats, finally got the ridiculous ruffled harness on the dog. As she fastened it, she caught a whiff of the dog and frowned. Did Mitch Mitchell actually put perfume on poor Daisy?
They headed out the door, Holly feeling a little guilty. Gus’s owner wouldn’t mind her doubling up on his walk, but Mitch was another story.
Holly had weighed her options and decided it was more important to get Daisy out on time, or close to it. Besides, Daisy might benefit from a few lessons in doggie decorum from big, gentle Gus.
As they walked toward Safe Haven’s downtown, Holly’s spirits lifted. A few people greeted them, both passersby and folks in their yards. She hadn’t realized how many people she’d meet working as a dog walker in a small Southern town. Half the community seemed to know who she was, and most called out friendly greetings.
Initially, she’d wanted to keep to herself and be anonymous. But she was finding the friendliness appealing, was starting to learn a few people’s names just from the daily encounters while she was out walking.
Downtown, lampposts sparkled with tinsel-covered decorations, and most of the storefronts had Christmas displays or lights. A cinnamon smell emanated from Jean Carol’s bakery; if Holly hadn’t been in such a hurry, she might have stopped in to grab a roll, since she’d had to skip breakfast. She’d already learned that Jean Carol, like most of the shopkeepers here, was dog-friendly.
Cars passed at a leisurely pace, and a mother with a baby and a toddler smiled and said hello. Belatedly, Holly recognized her from last week’s parenting class and returned the greeting.
Usually, she worked on teaching Daisy to heel during walks. Today, she decided to let her do as she pleased. Mitch had been advised by a trainer—for some reason, Holly thought it was Pudge LeFrost—that the dog needed more exercise. That was the only reason he’d gotten a dog walker, and he was a fairly reluctant customer. Hopefully, with Daisy getting more of her energy out during the day, she’d behave better when Mitch came home from work and he’d start to see and believe in the benefits.
As her day settled down into its regular routine, with Penny and the dogs all content, Holly’s thoughts returned to the place she’d been trying to distract them from: Cash.
He’d definitely cooled toward her since she’d rebuffed him at the one parenting class. Which was what she’d wanted, right? But at the crab boil, she’d wished they could be closer. And every morning her phone didn’t flash his number, every evening he didn’t knock on her door as he walked past it to his apartment, regret nudged at her heart.
Cash was incredibly handsome and had real charisma, an aura of success. Of course, all of that attracted her; she was human, hardwired to be drawn to a good provider, the alpha of the tribe.
But it was more than that. He cared about his brothers and was a great uncle to their kids. He gave back to the community of Safe Haven; she’d heard Yasmin talking to him about what they were doing with his big donation to the women’s center, had seen him sneak a hundred-dollar bill into the church collection plate.
He wasn’t exactly outspoken about his emotions, but he had a slew of them. She’d seen the struggle in his face when he’d talked about Rita, and had watched him kiss Penny’s head, then close his eyes and pull her close.
She reached Mitchell’s Men’s Shop, glanced in and waved, knowing that Mitch enjoyed catching a glimpse of Daisy during his busy days. Gus seized the opportunity to mark the fire hydrant in front of the store.
The store’s door opened. “What on earth?” Mitch came out, consternation written all over his face. He knelt down and Daisy rushed to him and jumped into his arms, yapping.
“Hi, Mitch.” Even though she suspected he was angry that there was another dog on Daisy’s walk, Holly figured that ignorance might be the best defense. “Is something wrong?”
“It certainly is.” He glared up at her as he stood, Daisy in his arms. “Look how traumatized she is.”
Daisy was alternating between licking Mitch’s face and struggling to get down, her face relaxed, tongue out. “I—I don’t think she’s upset,” Holly said.
“Not only are you late, but you’re walking my Daisy with that—that beast.”
Holly glanced down at Gus, who’d flopped onto the sidewalk and twisted himself into a pretzel to lick his own hindquarters. “Gus and Daisy are getting along great. Sometimes it can be good for a dog to interact with other dogs, and Gus is supergentle.”
“Daisy is very sensitive,” Mitch said severely. “Aren’t you, sweetheart?” He turned her over to cradle her like a baby while she struggled to escape.
“I’m sorry,” Holly said. “I was running a little late and I’m trying to get back on schedule.” She resisted the urge to look at her watch.
Mitch flipped Daisy back over to right side up and looked sternly at Holly. “I’m reconsidering hiring you as a dog walker,” he said.
She actually wouldn’t mind losing Mitch as a client, though she felt bad for Daisy, so full of pent-up energy. “Of course, that’s your decision,” she said. “It’s kind of like a babysitter. There has to be a good fit. Maybe I’m not the right person.”
Mitch looked annoyed, probably because she hadn’t begged him to keep her on. “I’ll be telling other people in town that I’ve been dissatisfied with your work,” he said.
Holly’s heart sank. “Do you want me to at least take Daisy home?”
“I’m debating that,” he said, setting Daisy down and examining her carefully, as if she might have sustained injuries during the treacherous walk from his house to his shop, a distance of a few blocks at most.
She cleared her throat. Time to cut her losses. “I need to get moving,” she said. “I’m running a little late.” In the backpack, Penny shifted restlessly.
“Whose fault is that?” he asked. “I should have known not to hire a woman with a child.”
A thin, white-haired African American woman who’d been standing behind Mitch, looking in the shop window and poking at her oversize cell phone, spun, strode over and faced the man, hands on hips. “Did I really just hear you say that, Mitch Mitchell?”
Mitch seemed to shrink, just a little, and recognition welled up in Holly. This must be the famous matriarch of the town library, Miss Vi.
“I’ll have you know,” the woman continued, “that someone raised you and took you places and put bread on your table. We’re all indebted to our mothers, and we should support the young mothers among us.” She turned to Holly. “I’m known as Miss Vi around town. And you are...Holly Gibson, is that right?”
Holly nodded and held out her hand to shake the other woman’s thin, calloused one—she was rendered a little speechless by Miss Vi’s energy. Penny wiggled hard in the backpack, and Holly patted her leg, hoping to calm her.
“I just don’t see,” Mitch said, his voice petulant, “why those of us without children are always expected to make accommodations for people who have them. I open my shop on time whether or not Daisy is causing me trouble.”
“It’s not comparable,” Miss Vi said briskly. “You can put a dog in a crate and shut the door. Last I heard, that was frowned on with a child.”
Holly pressed her lips toget
her to keep from laughing. Or crying. She wasn’t sure which.
Penny didn’t have any such restraint; she started to cry. Loudly. Right in Holly’s ear.
As Mitch and Miss Vi went on arguing, Holly drew in a deep breath, willing herself to relax. Both Miss Vi and Mitch were dressed and groomed beautifully, while she was wearing jeans and a hoodie. There’d been no time for makeup this morning; she’d barely managed to run a comb through her hair.
Though she appreciated Miss Vi’s backing, she felt at a disadvantage, like a poor relation.
A silent flash of silver arrived at the curb. Cash in his Tesla.
Could this day get any worse?
He climbed out and strode to the three of them, earning excited barks from Daisy and a low woof of greeting from Gus. He reached up and pulled Penny out of Holly’s backpack in one smooth swoop. “What’s the problem here?”
Relief from the weight of the baby vied with embarrassment about her unkempt state. “I don’t need rescuing,” Holly said, even though it wasn’t true.
* * *
TEN MINUTES LATER, after figuring out what was going on and helping Holly and Miss Vi calm Mitch down—to the point where he’d agreed Holly could at least take Daisy home—Cash turned to Holly. She looked exhausted, and there were shadows under Penny’s eyes as well. He had to do something about that.
“Go home and take Penny,” he said. “I’ll be there soon. We need to talk.”
Holly visibly straightened her shoulders. “I can’t. I have to take these dogs home, and then I have two more clients.”
“Not for long,” Mitch quipped over his shoulder as he walked into the shop.
Holly flinched.
Cash’s eyes narrowed as a caveman protective impulse washed over him. “Wait here,” he ordered her, giving a meaningful glance to Miss Vi. She’d gotten herself involved by sending Cash a text, telling him Holly and Penny needed him. Now, he was sure she wouldn’t mind staying to help set things right.
She gave a little nod, reading his unspoken request. She’d stay with Holly and Penny until Cash came back out.
He followed Mitch into his shop. “Not that anyone will listen if you do a smear campaign on Holly,” he said, “but just don’t.”
“I’m only going to share my experience,” the other man said. “There’s no law against that.”
“You and I both know,” Cash said, “that there are a lot of different ways to share experiences. Don’t trash Holly’s name or you’ll have me to contend with.”
Mitch’s eyebrow flicked up, and the faintest trace of a sneer crossed his face. Cash took a step closer. He wasn’t the biggest of the O’Dwyer brothers—that honor fell to Sean—but he had a few pounds of muscle on Mitch. More than that, he had a background of street fighting that Mitch, one of Safe Haven’s privileged sons, couldn’t touch.
Still, he was beyond his street-fighting days. He had other tools at his disposal now. “I buy clothes from you because I believe in supporting local businesses,” he said. “Those I believe in, with owners and business philosophies I respect.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“I’m only going to share my experience,” he said, quoting Mitch. “Good or bad. Think about that.” He turned on his heel, giving the man the opportunity to stay out of a fight he couldn’t win, and walked outside to find Miss Vi standing alone.
“I couldn’t keep your friend here,” she said, her voice apologetic. “If you head down there—” she gestured toward a side street “—you might catch her.”
“Thanks. And thanks for the text.” He patted Miss Vi’s arm, and would have hugged her, except he still held her in the fear and awe she’d commanded in all the O’Dwyer boys when they’d landed in town as teenagers.
“In Safe Haven, we take care of our own,” she said.
“Some didn’t get the memo.” He nodded toward Mitch’s shop.
“That man.” She pursed her lips. “You go after her. I’ll do some damage control around town, see if I can counteract any smear campaign Mitch starts up.”
Cash grinned as he turned away. Mitch didn’t stand a chance.
Taking long strides, he soon caught up with Holly, Penny and the two dogs. “Let me take Penny,” he said.
“No, it’s... Well, okay. Sure.” She turned, and he lifted the backpack off her shoulders and slid it onto his own back as she steadied Penny and helped him adjust the straps to fit his larger frame. “Thanks,” she said. “I really appreciate this.”
“I’m Penny’s father.” He frowned. He still didn’t like how tired Holly looked, and it pushed him past his hurt feelings about the way she’d rejected him. “Tell you what,” he said. “You take the dogs back to wherever they belong and then go home and take a shower, rest a little. When you’ve had enough of a break, walk down to the beach. Penny and I will be there.”
“Well...” She bit her lip. “I have to walk two more dogs, but I wouldn’t mind doing it without Penny on my back.”
“Then grab a little time for yourself after you’re done walking dogs. You can’t take care of Penny very well if you don’t take care of yourself.”
“True,” she admitted. “All right.”
He felt an absurd sense of triumph at having convinced her to let him help her by caring for his own child. His friends back in Atlanta wouldn’t have believed it.
“Doesn’t seem like beach weather,” she said, looking up at the cloudy sky. “There’s an extra sweater and blanket in the bag, and some snacks, but you bring her right home if she gets upset or cold, okay?”
“Of course, but she won’t.” He smiled to reassure her and risked a little flirtation. “I’m a baby whisperer, remember?”
“Oh, right.” She lifted an eyebrow and laughed, her gaze connecting with his. “Okay.”
Now he was on a quest. He strode toward home, Penny on his back, clicking Liam’s number on his phone. “Listen, I know you’re working,” he said when Liam answered. “But I need a favor. Can you get me a permit for a bonfire?”
There was a silence. Then his brother asked, “Are you back to that?”
“To what?”
“You know.”
Until that moment, it hadn’t occurred to Cash that he’d often used bonfires to put the moves on a lady. “Not the same thing at all,” he said. “This is for Penny and Holly.”
“Uh-huh.” Liam’s neutral tone said he was reserving judgment. “I’m headed to the courthouse now. I’ll take a picture of your permit and send it to you.”
He took Penny back to his apartment, changed her diaper and put her into the high chair he’d borrowed for her. He sprinkled some kind of baby crunchies on the tray to keep her occupied while he gathered his supplies.
She seemed cheerful and wide-awake, so he loaded her into the backpack again and headed to Safe Haven’s downtown. Situated on the water, the downtown had a fish-processing plant at one end and a small beach at the other, with a boardwalk, shops and restaurants in between.
He picked up the sandwiches and drinks he’d ordered and walked down the boardwalk through the afternoon light. He heard harmonica music, a little mournful, and scanned the storefronts, decorated with wreaths and Christmas trees and gift displays. Sure enough, there was Rip Martin, a town fixture, leaning against one of the brick buildings, looking out toward the water as he played. “Hey, Rip,” he said when he reached the man, and fished a twenty out of his wallet to put in the hat Rip had set up beside him for donations.
“Thank you kindly,” Rip said, then launched into something bluesy.
Cash hummed along as he continued on down toward the beach. Penny babbled nonsense in his ear, and when he turned his head, she grabbed his nose, then yanked on his hair. She was heavy, too. How did a petite woman like Holly manage to carry her around on her back all day, every day?
In front of him, the em
pty beach stretched out. He’d always loved walking on it. Some of his biggest dreams and plans had been formulated while pacing this beach, working off the restless energy that came from being a kid who wanted more than he had.
Now, though, he was in a weird, poignant mood. He wasn’t here as an angry, displaced kid, or as a player out to put moves on a lady.
He was here as a dad.
He didn’t know how to be one, didn’t know what it all meant. He only knew that when he reached up to touch Penny’s leg or tilted his head back to smile at her, his heart turned to mush.
He shook off the girlie emotions and chose a sheltered area protected from the wind by a dune, and then gathered some driftwood and pine to burn. Bending down to work on the fire was tough with a backpack—though he was sure it was nothing compared to leashing up a bunch of dogs, which Holly did every day—so he spread the big blanket he’d brought and set Penny on it with a couple of toys.
The gulls squawked overhead, and Penny laughed at them. When a few late fishermen cruised by on their way to dock, her head whipped to watch them.
Cash inhaled the salty ocean air as he started the fire. He uncorked the wine he’d brought to let it breathe. Found a few shells and showed them to Penny, talked nonsense to her.
Maybe he was crazy, thinking Holly would want to chill and spend a little time with him rather than grabbing Penny and taking her home. But he’d sensed a softening in her attitude toward him. And some force inside him, stronger than hurt feelings, stronger than pride, pushed him to make the effort to close the distance that had grown between them.
He was just leaning back on his elbows, wondering if Holly would actually come, when there she was, walking toward him with the sun behind her. She wore ripped, faded jeans and a sweater, and her blond hair blew around her.
She wasn’t classically beautiful; her eyes were set a little wide and her nose turned up. Right now, though, Cash had never seen anyone more appealing.
Low Country Christmas Page 11