Low Country Christmas

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Low Country Christmas Page 15

by Lee Tobin McClain


  “Hey!” Rita glared at Jimmy. “Don’t scare her.”

  Jimmy lifted his hands, palms out. “Sorry.”

  A door in the back of the house opened, and Pudge came shuffling out. His face lit when he saw Rita, Jimmy and the dog. “Hey, glad you’re here,” he said. “So this is the brand-new pup you want to train?”

  “Yes, this is Taffy.” And she didn’t want to be seeing a trainer so soon. She’d rather get to know Taffy herself, but she’d felt like she had to make a move toward doing something Jimmy wanted her to do, since he was so disgruntled about her getting Taffy without consulting him.

  Pudge sat down on a sturdy chair and leaned forward to run his hands over the dog, simultaneously checking her over and calming her. “It’s early to start her training, if you just got her the other day,” he said. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

  “I had a few people tell me—” She glanced over at Jimmy. “Warn me, really, that I should start training her right away. And I know you’re the best.”

  Jimmy took a step back. “Hey, hey, I only suggested it,” he said quietly. “If you don’t want to train her now, don’t.”

  “Now you tell me,” she snapped back, keeping her voice low to avoid offending Pudge. “When we’re already here.”

  Once again, she was aware that her annoyance—anger, really—with Jimmy was out of proportion. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was untrustworthy. Weird, since he’d always seemed rock solid to her.

  He tilted his head to one side, frowning. “Is this about me, or about the past?”

  “I don’t remember the past, remember?”

  Pudge cleared his throat. “Why don’t you try some basic commands with her, see what she knows?”

  “Sure.” Her face felt warm, her heart rate a little too fast, but she took some breaths to calm herself and then focused on the dog. “Taffy, sit,” she said, gesturing to her.

  The dog sat and looked at her expectantly.

  “Uh-oh, I don’t have any treats. Do you have something I can use?”

  “I’ll get you some.” It was Cash; she’d almost forgotten he was in the room. He disappeared into the kitchen and came back just as she put Taffy into a “down.” He handed her a bag of dog biscuits.

  “Good girl!” She broke off a piece of biscuit and gave it to Taffy. Then she held another small piece in the palm of her hand. “Touch,” she said, encouraging the dog to bump her hand with her muzzle.

  The moves with the dog calmed her; animals were amazing that way. She tried several more commands, discovering that Taffy could “sit pretty” on her hind legs, but completely ignored the important “come” command.

  When she looked up, she saw the others in the room watching her and Taffy as if they were putting on a show.

  “You’ve trained dogs before?” Pudge asked.

  She shook her head. “My late husband and I had a couple of dogs, but they were mostly for hunting. I didn’t work with them—he did.”

  Pudge’s expression was thoughtful. “You know all the gestures and moves of a trainer. From the way you move your hands to the way you hold your body and use eye contact.”

  Cash leaned forward. “I remember more dogs than just the yellow one at the house,” he said.

  An image flashed into Rita’s mind, complete and vivid: a backyard fenced with split rail, lined by chain-link. Green grass with some worn-down spots. A small group of people, each with a dog, standing in a little circle facing her while she spoke like she knew what she was talking about.

  A feeling came along with the image: happiness. She looked at Cash. “Could I have been a dog trainer? Taught classes in our backyard?”

  He nodded slowly. “Me and Sean had to stay inside but we could watch cartoons when you were working.” He made a little “huh” sound. “That’s what Sean always said—‘Mommy’s working.’ He was in charge. I don’t think Liam was born yet.”

  That came back, too, then: kneeling down in front of her two small boys, telling them they had to help Mommy by staying inside and being quiet while she worked.

  When she tried to grasp onto more details—like where her husband had been during that time—it all got kind of blurry around the edges.

  Her head pounded so badly that she looked around, grabbed the arm of a chair and sank into it. Pudge had reached down and lifted Taffy into his lap. Ma, Jimmy and Holly were watching her.

  Cash came over and sat beside her. “You okay?” he asked, his voice rough-edged.

  She looked at him and tears came to her eyes. “I remembered you as a kid,” she said, her voice catching a little. “Caught a glimpse in my mind’s eye. Just a glimpse, but still, it’s something.”

  He nodded. When she reached out and gripped his hand, he didn’t pull it away.

  “If you trained dogs, had people to the house for classes,” Jimmy said, “how does that fit with your husband being an abuser?”

  She blew out a breath. “I don’t know. Do you?” she asked, looking at Cash.

  He let go of her hand and shook his head. “I mostly remember it being just us at the house, aside from the classes. We couldn’t have kids over after school.”

  “What about Sean?” Holly asked. “He’s older, right? Would he remember more?”

  “Sean blocked some stuff out,” Ma said. “But it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

  “Liam could look at records from your old town,” Jimmy offered. “Maybe you had to register as a trainer, or advertise.”

  “Get your own dog a license,” Pudge said.

  “Yeah. Wow.” Rita leaned forward and clapped her hands softly, and Taffy ran to her. She picked up the dog and buried her face in soft fur. “Thanks, girl,” she murmured. “Thanks for giving me back a piece of my past.”

  But along with the happiness of remembering lurked a thread of fear. What else might she remember? And how awful would it be?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  HOLLY STOOD NEXT to Cash in the recreation room of the women’s center, looking at the jumble of boards and props and Christmas decorations before them. Some they’d brought in from the truckload they’d gotten at Pudge’s; others they’d pulled out of a closet under the direction of Yasmin’s new secretary, Pearlie.

  “So,” Cash said, staring blankly at the materials before them, “a photo booth? Any idea exactly what Norma means by that?”

  Holly was busy trying not to stare at him. What was it about a guy with rolled-up sleeves, and muscles that strained the shoulders of his shirts?

  And how did Cash have that kind of muscles, anyway? His work in the business world must be sedentary, but he was the restless, never-sit-still type. He probably paced while talking on the phone and jogged through airports. Worked off his extra energy at the gym.

  She was dangerously close to falling under his spell. Which could never happen. Especially not with what she’d learned about Tiff and Cash’s father.

  She forced herself to get businesslike. “It’s just a background where you can take cute Christmas pictures,” she said briskly. “You make it real festive so a family can get a nice picture. Then the organization, or the family, can put a cute filter on it.”

  “Like when my nieces and nephews got their pictures taken with Santa.” He nodded and rubbed his hands together. “You tell me what you want it to look like, and with my amazing carpentry skills, I’ll build it.” He wiggled his eyebrows for emphasis.

  She laughed. “Do you even have amazing carpentry skills? In addition to being a business whiz and...everything?” She clamped her mouth shut just in time. She’d been about to say “in addition to being the most handsome and sexy guy in Safe Haven.”

  He was, but no need to let him know she thought so.

  “Actually, no.” He held up his phone. “What I do have is the internet. And my brother Sean, who’s an actual
carpenter, on speed dial.”

  “Good enough.”

  So she found a few example photos, and Cash started hammering boards together while Holly worked on untangling long strands of red velvet ribbon and evergreen garland. She found herself exquisitely conscious of him: his striking blue eyes, his easy smile, his catlike grace.

  Her feelings weren’t his fault, and she needed to get over them. The solution was to be a friend—a kind friend—and nothing more. “That was a lot, what Rita figured out today,” she said. “How do you feel about it? If you don’t mind my asking,” she added quickly. Maybe he wanted to be private about it.

  “Very weird.” He paused in his hammering. “I hadn’t thought about those people coming over with dogs in ages. I must’ve been pretty young, under five, because Liam wasn’t around.”

  “Were things good in your family then?”

  He shrugged. “When you’re a kid, everything seems fine if you have food and clothes and toys. And a mom who takes care of you.” He looked thoughtful. “Which Rita did, I think. Sean, who’s closest to her and remembers the most, says she was a great mom, took us places and read to us, stuff like that.”

  “But you don’t remember that.”

  “Bits and pieces,” he said, and shrugged. “I think, like Ma Dixie said about Sean, I’ve blocked some things.”

  “Hey, more supplies!” Pearlie came in, carrying a big box. “Yasmin called and let me know we should use these, too.”

  Cash, with his Southern manners, had risen to his feet the moment the older woman had come in, and he took the box out of her hands and set it beside the one Holly was working on. “You should have called me in to carry that.”

  “Now, now, Cash O’Dwyer, there’s no need to exert that trademark charm on me. Or to coddle me, even though I’m old enough to be your grandma.”

  “Trademark charm?” Holly was amused.

  “Oh, my, yes. He’s notorious in these parts.”

  Cash looked skeptical. “Is that right?”

  “Yes, sir.” Pearlie nodded vigorously. “It’s all good, though. You’re good boys.” She took Cash’s hand and held it. “Don’t you forget that, or let anyone tell you different.”

  Some emotion flashed across Cash’s face and was gone so quickly Holly wasn’t sure she’d seen it. Vulnerability, maybe? Longing?

  But surely the confident, wealthy Cash O’Dwyer wasn’t vulnerable, didn’t long for the approval of a local women’s-center secretary.

  “Y’all let me know if you need any help. Otherwise, I’ll be out in the office, getting Yasmin caught up on her paperwork. It’s crazy, all the permits and reports we need to do to get the expansion of this place underway.” Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she took it out, spun and hurried out.

  “I didn’t know Yasmin had found a secretary,” Cash said. “I was going to suggest you apply. It’s part-time and flexible. You might even be able to bring Penny to work.”

  Reality swept back down around Holly—a reality she’d been able to forget for a few hours. “If it’s that casual and part-time,” she said, “it probably wouldn’t make me the money I need.”

  “Which is why you need to accept my offer of more child support,” Cash said. “That way, you can spend more time with Penny. Like you want to.”

  “No,” she said without heat. “I need to find a job or... I’m really hoping I can find a way to make the dog-walking business work. I have no competition, and surely most people won’t listen to that Mitch guy. My other clients have been superpositive.”

  Except for the ones who had quit, of course.

  She started twisting garland around the frame Cash had put together. “We’ll wrap some empty boxes so it looks like presents, and maybe we’ll find a pretty old chair out in the church parlor. And...h-e-eyyy.” She snapped her fingers. “I just got an idea of how to get the word out about my business.”

  “Yeah?” Cash pounded a loose board into place and looked up at her, nails bristling from his mouth. “How?”

  “I could offer to do dog photos here. Like, bring the dogs I walk and take pictures and share them on social media. Tag the town, so local people start hearing about me.”

  Cash took the nails out of his mouth and grinned. “I do admire your entrepreneurial spirit,” he said.

  “If you wanted to help, you could be Santa,” she teased. “Although you don’t exactly have the figure for it.”

  “I’d help, with pillows for stuffing,” he said. “Or even better, you could get Pudge to help. I’ve seen him dress up as Santa a bunch of times. And he’d be good with the dogs.”

  “That would be perfect!” Holly clapped her hands together, and then had another, more sobering thought. “Although...is he in good enough health?”

  Cash frowned. “I can’t get a bead on that. They’re not telling us everything. And, anyway...” He broke off, looked at her, looked away.

  “What?”

  “You’d have to let yourself depend on him. Ask him for help. I’m starting to figure out that you don’t like that.”

  That he’d noticed that about her, paid attention, made her face go hot. “True, but if it’s Pudge...”

  “What? He isn’t a threat?”

  She looked away, hoping he wouldn’t notice her blush. “Right.” Not as much of one, anyway. There was something about the good-natured older man that got through her defenses.

  “Am I a threat?”

  The question hung between them. She stole one glance at him and then focused on the paper she was twisting into a star.

  Because Cash was definitely a threat, more and more every time they were together. She was seeing beneath the suave surface now. Seeing the part of him that genuinely wanted to help others, that related to country people like Ma and Pudge, that would build a photo booth for a women’s center even when his phone kept buzzing, undoubtedly harkening business opportunities, responsibilities and deals.

  She felt rather than saw him scoot closer. “I don’t mean to be a threat, Holly,” he said. “And I’m no kind of good risk, but I’m starting to feel—”

  “Oh, that’s beautiful!” Pearlie’s voice saved them from whatever revelation might have been forthcoming, and Holly should’ve been grateful, but she wasn’t. “Someone needs to test it out. Why don’t the two of you get up there and I’ll take a few shots so you can check the lighting and spacing and such.”

  “You game for that?” Cash asked.

  When she nodded, he stood gracefully and then held out a hand to help her up. They’d brought in an old-fashioned love seat, and when they sat down together on it, there was no way to be except close. Close enough that she could smell his cologne and the good manly scent of him, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his leg next to hers.

  “Now, don’t sit so far apart,” Pearlie coached.

  Was the woman joking? They couldn’t be much closer.

  “Put your arm around her. That’s how the families will sit when we do the photo booth for the class.”

  “You’re not playing matchmaker, are you?” Cash asked.

  “Would I do that?” Her smile was wide and innocent. “Here, give me your phones and I’ll do some pictures on them as well.”

  They both set up their cameras and handed them over, and the little bit of tension was broken.

  Broken, that is, until Cash put his arm around her.

  She didn’t make a conscious decision to nestle in. Her body decided for her. He pulled her closer, tucking her beneath his arm.

  And Holly, who never relied on anyone, felt the strongest urge to just rest in his arms and let him take charge, take care of her.

  “That’s perfect. Yeah. Like that. Now look this way.” Pearlie was snapping pictures as she spoke, changing phone cameras like a pro. When she finally paused, she looked at a couple of the shots and bro
ught the phones over to them. “See what you think.”

  There was a noise in the outer hall then, and Pearlie checked the time and snapped her fingers. “I have a vendor coming this afternoon. This must be him.” She handed them their phones and hurried off, shutting the door behind her.

  They looked at the pictures, and Holly’s heart turned over. They looked like a happy couple. A couple in love. Something she’d never expected to have and never known she wanted.

  Something she shouldn’t want. She clicked off her phone and slid it into her pocket.

  Cash put away his phone, too, doing all of it with one hand because his other arm was around her. Every minute she expected him to take it away, to move away, but he didn’t.

  Instead, he pulled her the tiniest bit closer.

  Her breath caught and her heart started pounding faster. She should get up. She should really extract herself and get up. Because otherwise...

  “I should get up,” Cash murmured, close to her ear. “But this feels too good.”

  Her heart thumped harder.

  “At least, it does to me.” His breath tickled her temple. “How about you?”

  She swallowed. “It feels good,” she admitted, her voice a little hoarse.

  He lifted a hand and ran a finger along her jawline, and instinctively she glanced up at him, only to find him looking directly into her eyes. She hadn’t been this close to him before, and the blueness of his eyes was disconcerting.

  Gorgeously disconcerting.

  “Holly...” He broke off.

  “Yeah?”

  He shook his head a little, laughed. His fingers played with her hair now. “You look very kissable,” he said.

  “Oh, do I?” Her own voice sounded breathless. She had so little experience with men, with kissing. Whereas Cash... She started to pull back, but he leaned in at the same time and the effect was that she pulled him to her.

  He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her.

  His kiss was glorious, the sun and moon and stars all together. She tasted him a little, felt the slight scratch of that unshaven beard. He shifted to pull her closer, took her arm and gently moved it from where it sat in her lap, then wrapped it lightly around him. All of it with complete confidence and expertise, and it was so different from the few fumbling kisses she’d experienced before that she just sighed and let it happen.

 

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