The Summer Retreat

by Sheila Roberts

  “That dog cannot be in my kitchen,” Aunt Edie said firmly.

  “He’s gotta be hungry.” Sabrina pulled some bologna from the fridge and held it out to the dog. It was gone in a snap and a slurp. “He’s starving,” she said in shock.

  “He can’t be starving in the kitchen,” Aunt Edie said, and Sabrina got the message and coaxed the dog into the living room.

  “I’m sure he’s just lost,” Jenna said to Aunt Edie once they were gone.

  “More like someone left him behind,” Aunt Edie said with a frown.

  “Hard to imagine,” Celeste said. “He really is a handsome dog.”

  “Okay, then. He’s yours,” Jenna told her.

  “Mine? Why me?” She wasn’t in a position to take a dog.

  “Because you’re the one who found him,” said her sister. “Finders keepers.”

  “I have an apartment. Remember?”

  “You said they take dogs,” Jenna reminded her.

  “It’s obvious Sabrina’s fallen in love with him,” Aunt Edie said, sounding none too happy about the love affair.

  “Do you think you could put up with him for a couple of months if we kept him outside?” Jenna asked her. “He could sleep on the back porch. Then we can send him home with Celeste when she goes back to school. And Sabrina can have visiting rights,” she added with a grin.

  “Thanks a lot,” Celeste said.

  Except she was already getting attached to the dog. They’d never had one growing up. Their mom hadn’t wanted the extra expense. Celeste had always vowed to have a dog or cat once she was on her own, but her first apartment hadn’t allowed pets.

  That wasn’t the case where she was now. If the dog turned out not to have an owner, she could adopt him.

  And leave him stuck alone in the apartment all day during the school year? That wouldn’t be fair. Maybe she could find a doggy daycare for Nemo to go to while she was at work. It would be nice to have the company when she got home from school, and dogs were loyal. Which was more than you could say for a lot of men.

  “This may be a moot point anyway,” Jenna said. “There might be someone looking for him even now.”

  Celeste thought of the deserted beach. “Probably not, but we should at least try and find his owners. Have you got a local vet? I could take him in tomorrow before I clean rooms to see if he’s chipped.”

  “Dr. Gladwell can check him out,” Jenna said. She shook her head. “I’d be surprised if he is, though. Someone has not cared for that dog in a while. Look how skinny he is.” She turned to Aunt Edie. “This is your house, Auntie. If you don’t want the dog here, say the word and we’ll take him to the shelter, and I’ll tell Sabrina we found a home for him. Someone’s sure to fall in love with him.”

  They could hear Sabrina laughing in the living room. “Someone already has,” Aunt Edie said. She heaved a sigh. “Looks like we’re stuck with him.” She pointed her rolling pin at Celeste. “But you have to promise to take him home with you. And while he’s here, I can’t have him scaring Roger.”

  “We’ll make sure he doesn’t,” Celeste promised and wondered how they’d manage that.

  Pete walked in the back door. “What’s with the bowl on the porch?”

  “It’s for our newest guest,” Celeste told him. “A dog followed me home.”

  “And you gave him something to drink?” Pete asked in disbelief.

  The poor animal had been about tripping over his tongue. What was she supposed to do? “He was thirsty.”

  Pete shook his head at Celeste’s foolishness. “Now he’ll think he belongs here.”

  “He does for the moment, until we can find his owner,” Jenna said.

  “Has he got a dog collar?” Pete asked.

  “No,” Jenna said.

  “Good luck with that. Somebody probably dumped the beast. Whatever you do, don’t feed him. Then he’ll really stick around.”

  It was all Celeste could do not to giggle. From what she’d heard, that was pretty much how they’d wound up with Pete. He and her aunt had met at The Seafood Shack and he’d followed her home.

  “Sabrina already gave him some bologna,” said Aunt Edie.

  “Well, then, you’re stuck,” Pete told her.

  “We’re going have to feed him something,” said Jenna. “It could be a while before we find his owners.”

  “I’ll go to the store and get some dog food,” Celeste volunteered.

  She was about to run upstairs and grab her purse when the doorbell rang.

  “I’ve got it,” called Sabrina.

  Celeste came out into the living room in time to see that Sabrina wasn’t the only one answering the door. The dog had appointed himself a member of the welcoming committee and was now jumping on Pastor Paul Welch.

  Finding the dog’s paws on his chest, Paul blinked in surprise and took a step back, and the animal joined him in the little dance. “Whoa,” he said, removing the paws.

  “No, Nemo,” Sabrina scolded. “Come here.”

  Nemo looked from her to Paul, tail going like a metronome, and barked.

  Paul glanced down at his polo shirt, then back up at Celeste, a weak smile on his face. The shirt was a little dirty, but not half as dirty as Celeste’s T-shirt. Or Aunt Edie’s blouse.

  “Sorry,” she said. “We just got back from the beach. Sabrina, why don’t you take Nemo for a walk?”

  Sabrina nodded, and she and Nemo vanished.

  “So you have a dog?” Paul asked as the front door shut behind them.

  “Not yet. I found him on my beach walk. We’re hoping to locate his owners. Would you like to come in?” She motioned to the living room couch.

  “Sure,” he said, and the smile gained in strength.

  “I’ll get Aunt Edie.”

  Paul cleared his throat. “Actually, I wasn’t coming to see your aunt.”

  “Jenna’s in the kitchen.”

  Now he looked genuinely amused. “I came to see you, Celeste. I wanted to see how you liked the service.”

  “Oh. Well, I liked it fine. By the way, I managed to stay awake for all of your sermon,” she teased.

  “You’re swelling my head,” he teased back.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve been in church,” she added. Full disclosure.

  “A lot of people take a sabbatical now and then. I hope you’ll come back.”

  Was he only here to see if he had a potential new member?

  “Okay,” he admitted as if reading her mind. “I’m not here strictly as a pastor. Although I do call on all our visitors.”

  He had a warm smile. She decided she liked Pastor Paul Welch.

  Jenna was in the room now and wearing the speculative expression of a matchmaker. “Hi, Paul. What brings you over?”

  “I thought I’d see how your sister’s settling in.”

  “She can always use someone to show her around town,” Jenna said.

  “’Cause it’s so big and easy to get lost in?” Celeste cracked.

  “Something like that,” Paul said. “How about it?”

  “That could be arranged,” Celeste replied with a flip of her hair.

  What was she thinking? She’d just come out of a relationship. The last thing she needed was to jump into another one, especially with a pastor. Once Pastor Paul learned how...romantically active she’d been, he’d run faster than a man from a burning building. Yeah, bad idea. Pastors had high standards.

  Time to get moving before she was tempted. Could pastors tempt you? With a smile like that, yeah. “But right now I’ve got a date.”

  He looked surprised.

  “With a bag of dog food. Can’t have my new friend starving to death.”

  Paul’s smile faltered a little and she could tell he was trying to figure out whether she was on an urgent
mission or had decided to stop him from starting anything. Maybe a little of both.

  Aunt Edie appeared and was already inviting their visitor to stay for some coffee or tea. He had Aunt Edie, he had Jenna, he didn’t need a third woman at this address. Celeste beat it before she could yield to temptation.

  “You’d be a bad influence on him anyway,” she told herself once she was in her car. She’d have the poor guy guzzling wine and going to the casino before he could say “fallen angel.” No, they wouldn’t be a match. She loved to dance and party. She was sure his social life never got wilder than a church picnic.

  No, Pastor Paul visited little old ladies and did good deeds.

  Perhaps he took walks on the beach, too. He was kind and patient. Had to be; it went with the job. And considering what he did, the odds were high he wouldn’t cheat on a woman. He probably even wanted to settle down and have a family. A couple of kids, a dog. The man might not be into some of the frivolous trimmings she was, but darn, he knew how to smile so he had to have a sense of humor.

  More important, he had to have principles. Did she want a man who was good on the dance floor or good at life? Maybe she shouldn’t rule out Paul Welch.

  Except he’d surely rule her out long before she would him.

  * * *

  Paul sat on the couch in Edie Patterson’s living room, making conversation with her and Jenna, and thinking about Celeste Jones.

  She’d looked so cute in those shorts and that muddied-up T-shirt, her hair mussed from the beach breeze. She had great legs, a great smile. Great everything. And personality. He’d barely talked to her, but he could tell she had a sense of humor, a sure sign that she had a zest for life.

  He needed that in a woman, needed someone who could balance his more serious nature. Celeste was like the froth on the waves as they curled onto the beach. They added beauty to the power of the water. She was obviously kindhearted, too, since she’d adopted a stray dog.

  A dog in need of obedience training.

  “Pastor?”

  His thoughts had wandered off after Celeste like that stray dog. He jerked them back into the moment. “Hmm?”

  “We were wondering if you’d like to join us for dinner tonight,” Jenna said.

  “I’m afraid I can’t. I’ve got a meeting. But I appreciate the offer. In fact, I’d better get going.” He took a last gulp of his coffee and thanked his hostess, then stood.

  Jenna stood, too. “Don’t be a stranger.”

  “Thanks.” How soon before he could come back?

  Jenna had picked up a pen. “Give me your hand.”

  What? He held out his hand.

  She took it, turned it palm up and began to write, saying, “I think you might want this.”

  It only took a second to see that she was writing a phone number. “How’d you guess?” Was there drool on his chin?

  “I’m smart that way. Don’t wash your hand. And don’t wait too long to call her.”

  He wouldn’t.

  Chapter Six

  Come morning, Nemo the dog was still happily camped out on the back porch on an old blanket Jenna had found and folded into a bed for him.

  “Poor guy,” Celeste said as she poured dog food into an old mixing bowl. Aunt Edie would bleach that to death when she got it back. “What’s your story anyway? Did you get lost? I can’t believe anyone in their right mind would desert you.”

  But then she’d never believed any man in his right mind would dump her. You never knew.

  “Don’t worry. If you do have a mommy and daddy, we’ll find them,” she promised as the dog tucked into his breakfast.

  To that end, as soon as he was done eating, she loaded her furry new friend into her Prius and drove to the local vet’s office.

  Dr. Gladwell had a full schedule but had been willing to accommodate Celeste when he learned the situation. The good doctor’s assistant took her to an exam room, past an incensed-looking older woman sitting in the lobby with a Chihuahua that barked irritably at Nemo, making him jump as they passed. For a moment Celeste thought the woman was going to snap at her as well for having the nerve to get in to see the doc first. She wasn’t positive, but she thought she heard the woman growl. They passed an exam room just as a cat inside let out a hiss and Nemo jumped again.

  “That’s Sweet Pea,” said the assistant.

  “I guess she doesn’t like being examined.” What was Dr. Gladwell doing to that cat anyway?

  “Oh, doctor’s not in there yet. She’s with her owner. They don’t get along very well. Some people should not be allowed to have pets,” the woman added under her breath. She opened the door to a sterile-looking room with a cement floor and a big metal exam table. Framed posters of dogs, cats and bunnies decorated the walls, along with a diagram of doggy working parts and a poster that encouraged pet owners to bark less, wag more. “Doctor will be with you in a minute,” his assistant said, then left them.

  Nemo paced around and began to whine.

  Celeste squatted in front of him. “Does this bring back bad memories?”

  The dog licked her face. I love you. Don’t leave me.

  She rubbed behind his ears. “It’s gonna be okay. Trust me. Whatever your past has been doesn’t matter anymore. It’s the present that counts, and you’re here with me and it’s all good.”

  The door opened. Nemo looked up and his tail managed a tentative wag.

  “Well, now, here’s a handsome fella,” said Dr. Gladwell.

  Which was, sadly, more than she could say for the vet. He was a tall, older man with a long face and jowls and eyes that drooped at the corners, making him look like a Basset Hound. A cute look for a dog. For a human, not so much.

  “You must be Celeste,” he said as she stood. He held out a paw, er, hand, for her to shake.

  “I am. Thanks for making time for us.”

  “Always happy to help. I take it this is Nemo.” He squatted in front of the dog. “Hey there, boy. How are you doing?”

  Well enough to want to give the doctor a kiss.

  But Dr. Gladwell was adept at avoiding sloppy dog kisses. He gave Nemo some nice ear rubs, then lifted him onto the table. “You’re okay, young man,” the doctor said as Nemo began to squirm, and ran a calming hand down the dog’s back. “A lot of Golden in this boy, which, of course, explains the sweet temper. Let’s see if we can find out who owns you,” he said to Nemo, pulling out a chip reader.

  “No chip,” he said a moment later, shaking his head at people’s irresponsibility. “Looks a little underfed, but other than that he appears to be in good shape. At least he’s been neutered. Pet adoption agencies insist on that these days.”

  “So where are his owners?” Celeste asked.

  “Your guess is as good as mine. Some people just dump their animals and leave them. It’s a shame. This guy isn’t more than a year old.”

  Barely out of puppyhood. Who’d leave a sweet dog like this one? “I guess we’ll put up some flyers around town,” Celeste said. “He’s got to belong to somebody.”

  “If he winds up belonging to you, bring him back and we’ll check him for worms and we’ll chip him and make sure he gets his shots,” said the vet.

  It was looking more and more like the dog was going to belong to her. She was smiling as she drove away.

  She was even smiling when she knocked on room twelve later that morning. “Housekeeping.”

  “Come in,” called a male voice, sounding irritated. Some invitation.

  She came in and, just like the last time, found Henry Gilbert seated on his bed, this time wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, his legs stretched out in front of him, his laptop on his lap. He had long legs and his feet... She wasn’t particularly fascinated by feet, but his were thin and elegant. For one insane second she caught a vision of one of those feet sliding up her calf as they lay side b
y side on that bed.

  Oh, good grief. She’d obviously gone too long without sex.

  “Just clean towels,” he muttered as he typed away.

  “And manners,” she murmured, grabbing some towels off her cart.

  He looked up at her as she came back in. “Seriously? You’re gonna diss my manners? I’m not the one who goes around snooping through other people’s things.”

  She left his clean towels and picked up the old ones. “Okay, how long are you going to keep bringing that up?” she demanded.

  He didn’t reply, merely grunted and kept typing away. “Trying to work here.”

  “So am I. And I’m changing that bed tomorrow whether you like it or not,” she informed him.

  “Hard to do if I’m on it,” he said, fingers clacking on the keyboard.

  “Not really. I’ll wrap you up in the bedspread like a giant spring roll and pull you off the bed. Don’t mess with me. I dated a cop.”

  His fingers paused in mid-clack and he looked up again, considering her.

  She raised her chin and considered him right back. He had hazel-colored eyes, although, at the moment they were half-hidden behind glasses with serious brown frames. What was it about glasses that when you saw a guy wearing them, you always assumed he was smart? Glasses didn’t mean you were smart. They only meant you couldn’t see.

  “Do you have multiple personalities or something?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Well, one day you’re in here being Harriet the Spy, the next you’re Suzie Sunshine who wants to write about happy clams and now you’re Debbie Dominatrix, promising to get forceful and yank me out of bed and throw me on the floor. So which are you?”

  “One thing I can tell you I’m not, and that’s rude. You, on the other hand, are consistent. Always rude.”

  She used that as her parting shot and left him to type away on his laptop about killing people. If only he wasn’t staying all summer. Henry Gilbert was like ants at a picnic, ready to swarm anything sweet and ruin it.

  Well, she wasn’t going to let him ruin her day. She finished up, then showered and changed and, after dropping Sabrina off at her driver’s ed class for Jenna, who had a lunch date, she made her way to the local pet supply shop.