Blackberry Cove

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Blackberry Cove Page 17

by Roxanne Snopek


  Abby lifted hers in response. “I remember.”

  “Good,” Quinn said.

  Abby would definitely freak out if she knew what Quinn had really been thinking about.

  Which is why she couldn’t talk about it.

  Abby lowered her arm. “You know, Quinn, this will come as a shock, but not everything is about you. I have other things going on in my life.” Then she squeezed her eyes against another round of tears.

  “I know that.” She was torn between relief and jealousy. What else could make Abby react like this?

  Abby rested her elbows on the table and dropped her face into her palms. “Roman’s dying.” Her voice was muffled.

  That, again?

  “Of course he’s dying. He’s a million years old. We’re all dying.”

  “Yeah, well,” Abby said, lifting her face, “you and I can expect many more years. He’ll be lucky to see September.”

  September? That couldn’t be. She’d just seen him. He looked exactly the same as always.

  His hand shook when he used the currycomb on Apollo, but he’d always been a little shaky. He’d tripped over her name, but he said it was because Quinn was a weird name.

  He was skinnier than usual.

  She turned to the cupboard so Abby couldn’t see her face. Roman was grumpy and demanding and sometimes rude, but she’d gotten used to seeing him around. He always had treats for Apollo and he was really nice to Chaos and the other dogs. And Jon loved him.

  She grabbed the ceramic cookie jar and opened the lid. It was empty. “We’re out of cookies.”

  She heard Abby get up and then felt her strong arms, holding her tightly. She turned around and returned the embrace.

  “Jon doesn’t know,” Abby whispered. “Roman won’t let me tell him. Please don’t let on you know.”

  “Oh, Abs.” Quinn’s throat was on fire. She didn’t want to think about people dying. She sure didn’t want to think about her sister, burdened yet again with another secret that wasn’t hers to tell. “Let’s bake something,” she said.

  It’s what Abby did to make herself feel better. They walked hand in hand to the lodge, quiet and dark at this time of night. Quinn got a soft playlist going on her smartphone and together they gathered the ingredients for Roman’s favorite cookies. They couldn’t stop him from dying, but they could do something to let him know that they cared.

  When Daphne got up to find them washing dishes at two in the morning, it was because they’d awakened her with their laughter.

  Chapter Seventeen

  From Abby’s notebook:

  Allow the browning foliage of spring-flowering bulbs to die back before removing so all that good energy can return to the source.

  Midsummer was her favorite time in the garden. The work of planning and planting was done. Now it came down to fertile soil, warm sunshine, soft rain, and the magic of photosynthesis.

  Rabbits had nibbled on a few edge plants but there were so many rows that they could afford to share.

  Abby dug her hoe into the soft earth, turning over the dirt and breathing in the rich fecund scent. As much as she’d enjoyed the time with Jon, she’d missed this. The physical exertion helped dispel the stress that could so easily bring down her spirits at this time of year, when memories assailed her.

  For a good thirty minutes she allowed her mind to go blank, letting the rhythmic motion and soft crunching sounds soothe her, feeling her muscles and joints grow warm and loose and strong.

  When the rows were weed-free and the walking paths tidy again, she leaned the hoe up against the wheelbarrow and set off into the fields. A good walk always cleared her head. The day was unseasonably warm and clear for early July on the coast. Fluffy clouds high above promised rain later on, but for now, the fog had lifted and the sun warmed her back.

  What was she doing with Jon? This wasn’t like her. But she seemed powerless to stay away. She craved being with him. Felt like a different person, someone who might be normal, who might live the kind of life she imagined other women might live, with a future that might include permanence, intimacy. A man.

  A future.

  She owed it to him to be frank about her past, but she was a coward. It would change things between them and she was having fun right now. She didn’t want things to change. Turned out she enjoyed having fun.

  And oh, they were having a great time. Nothing had prepared her for the fire that Jon stirred in her blood. Every touch brought her alive and made her want more, made her want to laugh into the wind, to fling out her hands and fly, to risk everything and believe in the impossible.

  She rounded a bend in the path and nearly stumbled upon Haylee, sitting on a fallen log.

  Cleo, the terrier mix sitting next to Haylee, leaped up with a startled bark, then came pelting toward Abby.

  “Hey there, cutie-pie.” Abby squatted down to give the pup some love.

  “Cleo,” Haylee scolded. “Where are your manners?”

  Instantly, the terrier backed off, plunked her butt in the soft loam, and lifted a front leg.

  Abby shook the proffered paw and was rewarded with another round of face-licking. The whiskery muzzle tickled her chin, not as nice as Jon’s stubble, but still sweet. She was a darling dog.

  “A lovely day for a walk, isn’t it?” Abby took a seat next to her friend and then looked at her more closely.

  Haylee’s blond curls were tucked up into a baseball cap but she couldn’t hide the tears on her cheek.

  “What’s wrong?” Alarm heightened her voice.

  Haylee shook her head and attempted a smile. “Nothing. I’m just pissed off. And when I get pissed off these days, I cry. Pisses me off even more.” Her laugh turned into a fresh round of sobs. “It’s the hormones. I swear I’ve cried more since Mattie was born than I have my entire life before that.”

  “Maybe you were due,” Abby suggested. “Anything I can help with?”

  “Nah. Just stuff with Sage.” Haylee put her arm around Cleo and ruffled her ears. “Beverly wants her to come back to Portland.”

  Haylee’s daughter Sage had spent her formative years with her adoptive parents, only seeking out her birth mother when she realized she was pregnant herself.

  “Of course, Beverly’s ex-husband got wind of it and decided he wants time with her, too, now that Sage is getting herself together. My poor girl. Her dad is overwhelmed with his own kids and Sage was never close with him anyway. Beverly’s triplets are a one-room wrecking team. Sage and Sal get lost when she goes out there. And here am I, with Mattie and Aiden, so even I can’t focus on her entirely.”

  Fresh sobs wracked her. “I want her to feel special, to know how much I treasure her, how much I missed her all those years, even if I pretended I didn’t.”

  Haylee was a tough cookie. She didn’t usually spend a lot of time worrying about things like this. Perhaps becoming a mother all over again with Matthew had brought it all forward in her mind.

  “She knows how you feel about her, Haylee.”

  “Does she? I hope so. I don’t know what to tell her. They’re her family . . . but I want her here with me. They had her for all those years. Now it’s my turn.”

  “What does Sage want?”

  Haylee shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t want to pressure her. It’s her choice. A biological mother she’s just getting to know or the adoptive parents she ran away from.” She gave a little snort. “Some kids get all the luck, huh?”

  Sage had been given away by an unprepared mother to two parents who wanted her very much. Then, when her life took a turn, she found her birth mother and discovered a whole new home.

  In some ways, it was a heck of a lot more than Abby and Quinn had ever had. They’d gotten a father that had died before Quinn was even old enough to even remember him. A mother too grief-stricken and ill-prepared to look after two needy little girls alone, but too proud to admit it and seek help.

  “I think Sage is very lucky.” She said it without bitterness
. Luck came in waves and what looked like good fortune one day might turn out to be the worst sort of luck the next. Having Rebecca as their mother had forced Abby to be strong. Losing her was devastating at the time, but as the years went on, she realized how much chaos their mother had brought into their lives.

  “We’re all lucky,” she added. “You, me, all of us who’ve made our way here to the ranch. Things will work out. You’ll see.”

  Haylee nodded. Then she sighed. “Olivia hasn’t said anything but I think she and Gayle are going through a rough patch, too.”

  Abby remembered wondering about that herself. “I hope it isn’t serious. They’re really good together.”

  “I don’t know.” Haylee shook her head. “I think it’s something bigger. I think having Sal and Mattie around has gotten to Gayle.”

  Abby turned to face Haylee. “Gotten to her? How?”

  “She wants a baby. Apparently, she’s talking about adopting again.”

  “Again? I didn’t know she ever had been thinking about children.”

  “Yeah. Well. She’s a bit younger than Olivia. I remember when they first met.” Haylee’s voice softened. “I’d never seen Liv so happy. Anyway. I guess Gayle had talked about adopting right off the bat but they never went any further with it. Liv and I were busy starting the ranch. Money, time, I’m not sure. Now they’re both more settled in their careers, they’ve got money. Gayle wants to go to China, see the village where she was born, maybe find out who her birth parents were. I don’t know how easy it is to get adoption records from Chinese orphanages, but she’s going to try.”

  “Is Olivia going with her?”

  Haylee sighed again. “She says she can’t. Too much work here. I don’t understand her. Gayle really wants her to come along. We can manage here without Liv. It sounds selfish to me. Selfish and stubborn. Guess that runs in the family.”

  “That’s a little harsh. You and Olivia are two of the most generous people I’ve ever met. Kind and giving. You are this place. Look how many animals you’ve saved. Animals, people. You guys have brought a lot of happiness where there was sadness and pain. That’s not selfish. And if you’re stubborn, it’s only so that you can achieve your goals.”

  “You’re a good friend, Abby.”

  “Are you feeling better? Ready to go back to the house?”

  “I think I’ll sit here for a while yet. Thanks, Abby. I guess I needed to vent a little.”

  “Anytime. Want me to take Cleo back to the house?”

  The little dog looked up at her name.

  Haylee bent down and placed a kiss on the whiskered muzzle. “No.” Her voice was husky. “I’ll keep her with me.”

  Cleo had been a challenge for Haylee—until she started bringing the little dog with her on her pet therapy rounds. Once a week, Haylee took her to the hospital, a seniors’ home and, the real winner, the local after-school facility for elementary students with learning disabilities. Playtime with Cleo motivated the kids to finish their homework, but they also took turns practicing their reading with her. It seemed that reading to a dog was less intimidating than reading to an adult. No one expected the energetic, headstrong terrier to succeed as well as easygoing Jewel, Haylee’s elderly retriever, but all the teachers raved about Cleo.

  Suddenly, Abby knew what was really bothering her friend.

  She leaned against Haylee. “How is Jewel enjoying her retirement?”

  Haylee lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “It’s not the same without her. She’s really slowing down and her appetite has fallen off lately. I took her to see Janice last week for her senior wellness exam. They found some abnormalities in her bloodwork. Janice took an ultrasound of Jewel’s abdomen this morning.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Abby, there’s a mass on her spleen.”

  “Oh, Haylee.”

  “Janice says she might be able to remove it, but she doesn’t recommend we try. At fourteen, with early kidney disease, the risks are too high.” She swallowed, her throat making an audible click. “I’m not ready to lose her, Abby.”

  Abby’s throat got hot and tears prickled her eyelids. “I’m so sorry. I know how much she means to you.”

  “Fourteen years she’s been part of my life. Most Labs never make it this long. I’m lucky, I know that.”

  Abby was grateful that little Tux was just barely out of kittenhood. He was the first pet they’d ever had, adopted from a litter that Tyler and Duke had hand-reared last summer. The boys had found two batches of motherless kittens, the product of abandoned or feral cats that hadn’t yet been trapped for neutering, and had ended up in the jaws of a coyote. Once Huck shot the coyote, a nursing mother herself, the predation ended.

  Tux would be with them for many years but in the end, it would come to this. She’d be where Haylee was. Was it worth it?

  “Jewel’s been part of my life almost the entire time I’ve been here. Liv had dogs when I first came to stay with her in San Francisco. She got me started training. But Ju-Jube is the first dog I rescued myself. She’s the one who taught me how therapeutic canine companionship can be. She’s been with me through so much. She brought me and Aiden together, Abby. I can’t imagine my life without her.”

  She was sobbing again and Abby pulled her close.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “I knew she was different, from the moment I first saw her. I knew she’d break my heart, but when it’s off in the distance, you can ignore it. And it’s worth it, you know? Love’s always worth it. Even when you know it’s going to hurt like nothing else you’ve ever felt.”

  Abby held her friend as she wept, wishing there was something she could do or say to comfort her. But there wasn’t. That was the thing about loss. It happened, and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it.

  Jewel was dying. Roman was dying. Quinn would go away, eventually. Jon never intended to stay.

  Quinn would probably take Tux with her. The cat loved her best.

  She felt her own shoulders shake and she pulled Haylee closer.

  Was love worth it?

  She didn’t know.

  * * *

  “Abby, Abby!”

  Abby jumped hard enough to send her laptop shimmying sideways onto the couch. She caught it just in time, and ran to the door of their cabin to see Quinn running up the path, her hair streaming behind her like a wheat field in the wind.

  She stopped in front of Abby with a triumphant hop.

  “You’ll never guess,” she said, clapping her hands together. Her blue eyes were bright and shining and pink dots highlighted the tops of her cheeks.

  “Give me a minute to restart my heart.” Abby thumped a fist against her chest. “Okay. This better be good.”

  “Sorry, did I scare you?” Quinn laughed, then reached out and dragged her sister back into the cabin with her. “I’ve got great news. You’ll never guess.”

  “Okay,” she said cautiously. She went to the little kitchenette and filled the kettle. This sounded like a conversation that would go better with tea. Since the other night when she’d confided in Quinn about Roman’s condition, the subtle tension she’d felt between them had lifted, and she was grateful. She still worried about Quinn’s upcoming birthday, but knew that Daphne was planning something special. Hopefully, the good memories would one day outweigh the bad.

  “Haylee asked if I want to start learning about dog handling.” Quinn hugged herself.

  “She did?” Abby turned the dial on the stove and got out their herbal tea collection.

  “Yes. I’m going to be a dog handler, Abby! Me! She and Jamie are going to teach me.”

  “That’s wonderful, sweetie. I’m so proud of you.” She gave her sister a hug.

  “I’m going to learn basic obedience along with one of the new rescue dogs.” Quinn laughed, the sound tinkling in the small room. “It will be my responsibility to train the dog. That means, the dog will be staying with us in the cabin. Do you mind?”

  “As long
as Tux is okay with it, I’m okay with it.”

  The cat was pretty unflappable. Abby knew that learning to interact with a wide variety of people and other animals would be an important part of the dog’s socialization.

  “It gets better. Once Haylee and Jamie think I’m ready, they want me to start going along on therapy visits.”

  Abby turned in surprise. “They do?”

  Haylee had founded her dog training program, Companions with Purpose, to partner talented shelter dogs with people who needed assistance but not to the level of certified service dogs. Many of her dogs had gone to the families of kids with autism. Some had gone to kids who were grieving the loss of a family member and needed someone to hug.

  Most, if not all of her dogs, spent time in the Sanctuary Ranch pet therapy program as part of their socialization and to identify specific skills and traits that would help identify the best home for them. Haylee was both proud and possessive about her dog programs, but since giving birth to little Matthew, she’d been forced to share the responsibility with Jamie.

  To everyone’s surprise, what began as a grudging necessity had turned into a thriving partnership. Jamie lived for the dog training and there were more than enough requests for visits to go around.

  “Haylee started with one dog, but now, when Jamie goes into the schools, she brings two. If I was with her,” Quinn explained, “she could bring another one and that would mean more one-on-one dog time for the kids.”

  Abby wasn’t surprised to hear that Jamie was ready to bring along another set of hands.

  She never expected those hands to belong to her sister.

  Quinn shimmied her shoulders. “I can’t believe she asked me.”

  “I’m happy for you,” Abby said, choosing her words carefully. “I didn’t realize you were interested in doing that.”

  “I’ve been watching Jamie work with them while I clean the kennels. It’s pretty interesting stuff.” She looked down at her hands. “She’s going to start me with the school visits.”

  Perhaps this is what Quinn needed to cure her restlessness.

 

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