McCormick's Creek Sweet Romance

by Jen Peters

  Robin felt for Cliff’s arm to steady her. “Oh no. In fact, I go before the town council on Thursday.”

  “I wish you luck. But more than that, I’d like to make a donation.”

  “Really?” Robin tried not to squeak.

  “A thousand dollars from me personally won’t go far, but I’m going to suggest that my company become a sponsor, too. I also have a acquaintance I’d like you to meet who I think will be interested. In a more casual setting this time.” Robin could hear the smile in the elegant woman’s voice.

  “Ms. Williams, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this! And for your overlooking my nerves and clumsiness at lunch.”

  “Yes, well, that’s all done with now. I’ll be in touch to set a time to get together again. And be sure to let the town council know you have some backers.”

  They said goodbye and Robin turned to Cliff.

  “Well?” he said. “I assume this is good news?”

  He caught her easily as she jumped into his arms. “Yes! She’s going to donate a thousand dollars! And maybe a corporate sponsorship, and another friend who might donate. Yes!”

  She laughed as he swung her around. The phone rang again, but she was laughing too hard to answer.

  Cliff picked her phone up and swiped it on. “Hello?”

  Robin tucked her head into the crook of his neck and waited while he listened to whoever had called her.

  “Sure, she’s right here.” He set her down and handed her the phone with a smile. “It’s Mrs. Powell about Jello.”

  After all the bad stuff, now there was too much good news all at once—Robin had to sit down. “Mrs. Powell, hi!”

  A few minutes later she hung up and jumped back into Cliff’s arms. The Powells were coming to visit Jello tomorrow afternoon.

  * * *

  Robin brushed Jello’s chestnut coat until it shone. She threw a ball for him and watched him hustle after it in his own way. He had a long way to go, but he was probably six or eight pounds down from when he came to her a couple months before.

  She clipped a leash on his collar and helped him into her car, then out again when they arrived at the Powell’s.

  Olivia’s small face was stationed at the window, and she ran out to hug Jello. Mrs. Powell followed her with the toddler on her hip. “She’s been talking about nothing else since we met you. Come on in.”

  Robin looked at Olivia and Jello. “I’d say the feeling was mutual.” She followed Mrs. Powell to the backyard, nicely fenced with a play house and room to run.

  Mrs. Powell set her youngest down, who immediately toddled toward her sister. “Christina likes to grab anything with fur,” she said. “We’ll see how this goes.”

  But Christina tripped on a tuft of grass first. Jello came to investigate, nosing her and letting her pull herself up on him.

  Mrs. Powell gave a bemused smile. “That’s one question answered.”

  They talked about Robin’s mission to find good homes for her rescued friends.

  “Jello’s a special case,” she said. “Well, they all are, I guess, but Jello’s previous family had ‘loved’ him too well. He was about forty pounds overweight when I found him in the IGA parking lot.”

  “All alone?”

  “Oh, yes. I don’t think he’d been there long—he still looked pretty good—but you could see where his collar had been taken off. I think someone just didn’t want him anymore and figured a grocery store was a good place for someone to find him.”

  “How sad. But he’s healthy?”

  Robin nodded. “Jan Calder, our local vet, said he’s great, just overweight. He gets a reasonable amount of food, but no treats, especially no people food. And he needs regular walks—slow and easy for now, but longer as he gets more stamina.”

  “We can do that. And Olivia can play with him? Throw a ball and such? Although she’s not very good at throwing yet.”

  “Oh yes. He’d probably be disappointed if she didn’t.” Robin chuckled. “His sad act is to lay down a little ways away, put his head on his paws, and look up at you with wistful eyes.”

  “Sounds like Olivia’s twin.” Mrs. Powell sighed. “I know I promised her, I just didn’t expect to do this so quickly. And what happens if we have to be gone all day?”

  “Jello’s fine on his own,” Robin reassured her. “Just make sure you take him out before you go. And if you take a trip without him, he can stay with a friend or you could bring him over to me.”

  She tried to think of how to word the next bit nicely. “What about you? He has a coat that needs to be groomed regularly. He needs to be under a vet’s care for his weight, but we don’t know it has affected there rest of him. He could have heart issues or something. And he’s not old, but he’s not young—Dr. Jan figures about six. Old dogs can have arthritis or hearing problems, and incontinence can be really frustrating. Are you ready for all that?”

  Mrs. Powell looked thoughtful and Robin held her breath. She didn’t want to turn Mrs. Powell off, but she couldn’t send Jello to a home that would dump him at the first sign of problems.

  “We assumed there might be health issues because of his weight,” Mrs. Powell finally said, “and we’re not going to commit to an animal unless it’s forever. But, and no offense to you, if one of the girls turns out to be allergic to dogs, we can’t keep him.”

  Robin looked over to where Jello was lying down and letting Olivia lean across him, while Christina tried to catch his wagging tail. “Nobody’s sneezing yet, so hopefully that won’t be a problem.” She looked at Mrs. Powell. “It seems like you want him and that you’ll be a great family for him. So why don’t you take him on trial for a week? I’ll send his bowls and leash and bed over so you don’t have to buy those yet, and you can let me know.”

  Mrs. Powell smiled widely. “That sounds like a wonderful plan. And if we’re really doing this, can we do it now? We’ll have monumental tears in this house if you take him away.”

  Olivia jumped up and down with excitement. “We’re keeping Jello! We’re keeping Jello!”

  “Probably, Little Miss Big Ears,” her mother said. “We have to make sure he fits into our family.”

  “Oh, one more thing, Mrs. Powell,” Robin said. “I’m trying to start a real animal shelter in town, and I’m presenting before the town council tomorrow night. Is there any chance you could come and support me? I don’t know if you’ll get to talk or not, but if so, you could tell them about trying to find a dog without going to Eugene?”

  “I’d be happy to.”

  They talked a few minutes more and then Robin said a happy goodbye to Jello, while Christina finally caught his tail.

  Chapter 23

  By six the next evening, Robin couldn’t take the quiet house anymore. She had groomed the rest of the dogs, cleaned their water bowls, and put Soldier through his obedience routine. She had reviewed her presentation until it echoed in her head, paced while she tried to visualize success at the council meeting rather than defeat, and finally resorted to scrubbing the gunk around the edge of the kitchen sink after she’d washed every dish she could find.

  None of it helped. Her skin quivered and every hair on her head was blasting its nerve endings. She wouldn’t give in to it, she would get to the council meeting on time and present her idea, no matter how much she dreaded it.

  She wished Cliff were there, but he wasn’t due to meet her at town hall for another forty minutes. He was probably in the shower, washing off the dust and sweat of his workday. She left a voicemail anyway, but since she couldn’t talk to him, maybe a visit to the old building would help. Focusing on what it would look like up and running was sure to give her confidence.

  Ten minutes later, Robin entered through the still-unlocked door and looked around her in dismay. The abandoned building didn’t seem so enticing this time. Cliff was right—it really wasn’t big enough. And it needed so much work. Was she crazy to even think it was possible?

  She paced off where each room would
go, mentally filling them with dogs and cats, seeing families coming in and going home with a forever pet. Jinx over here, Chance next to him, maybe Soldier on the other side if Mr. Brown wouldn’t admit they were a match. Augie…somehow she couldn’t picture Augie there, not in a kennel and not even going home with a new family. Augie was—

  Robin gasped. Her wandering thoughts had taken her mind off the presentation, but they’d also wiped out her sense of time. She needed to get home, get Augie and her materials, and get to the town hall. Cliff was probably sitting in her driveway tapping his fingers.

  She dashed off, spewing gravel, then pulled into her empty driveway in consternation. No Cliff, and he should have been there ten minutes ago. She loaded her handouts in the car, clipped a leash on Augie, and glanced at the clock once more. She had to go. Cliff would just have to catch up to her there.

  * * *

  Cliff went out to check Zeus one more time before he met Robin for the town council meeting. The gelding nickered at him, but didn’t move from the corner of the straw-covered stall.

  “I know, boy, not feeling too great, are you?” Cliff offered him a carrot, then ran his hand across Zeus’s back and over his haunch to the cut. The stitches looked good, but the whole fourteen inches were inflamed, with swelling spreading down his leg. He’d never dealt with a cut this deep and didn’t know if that was normal or if there were problems developing.

  He spent a while just petting Zeus, murmuring to him and scratching a spot under his jaw that made the horse reach his head out in contentment.

  “Okay, boy, time for me to go. Don’t move around too much, you hear?” He gave one more pat and headed in.

  “I’m glad Dr. Jan is coming back tomorrow,” he told Uncle Phil, grabbing his jacket and keys. “I don’t like the way his leg’s looking.”

  Phil grunted, a scowl on his face.

  “What?” Cliff paused halfway to the door.

  “I told her to come on Monday instead. Figured there wasn’t much doctoring to do that we couldn’t handle.”

  Cliff strode back to his uncle. “You cancelled her? She wanted to check the drain and make sure everything was going well.”

  The older man looked away.

  “Uncle Phil? You cancelled the vet. You’re not keep the ranch maintenance up. What’s going on?”

  Phil exhaled sharply, his face strained. “Guess it’s time to come clean,” he said slowly. “Pull up a seat.”

  * * *

  In the town council room, Robin stroked Augie, willing her trembling hands to quiet. Augie looked up at her and licked, far enough from her that he didn’t reach her face, but close enough to know it was a kiss. “Thanks, little guy, I needed that.” She nuzzled his soft, gray fur, then inhaled deeply. His slight doggy-smell calmed her. It didn’t resolve her anger that Cliff had deserted her or her nervousness about the presentation, but she clamped down on both. She had to be professional or she had no chance at all.

  The five town council members filtered in and sat at a spread of tables in the front of the audience, a mix of business and school people. She only half-listened to the council as they discussed sewage fees and street repairs. Most of her mind was busy going over her presentation, when she would switch each Power Point slide, when she would make eye contact with each council member. The other part was soaking in the warmth of Augie’s small body on her lap.

  Focus. She reviewed her in-case-of-flusters plan: look at Cliff, look at Augie. Except Cliff wasn’t there.

  Still, she began to stress out. This building was too important—if she wasn’t successful here, the whole plan went out the window. One council member, a hefty, freckled man called Mr. Thompson, hadn’t seemed the least interested, but she only had to convince three of the five.

  Finally, her turn on the agenda came. She took one more look around the room and saw Dr. Jan, the Powells, and a few other pet adoptees, plus a handful of people there to listen, but there was still no tall, blond cowboy urging her on. Her hands were cold as she gave her flash drive to the tech guy and led Augie to the podium. She tensed her knees to stop them shaking. She picked up the computer remote and leaned into the microphone.

  “Hello. Thank you for having me. I’m Robin Cooper and this is Augie, a stray I rescued a few months ago.”

  One smile from Mrs. Goldberg, but no response from the others.

  She clicked for her first slide, a collage of scruffy animals. “These are dogs I’ve taken in through the last six months, all from McCormick’s Creek, where we have no animal shelter. I’ve been lucky enough to match six of them with loving families or elderly singles.”

  Not only was there no change on most of their faces, but two were looking at their phones.

  She took a breath and clicked again. “This is the abandoned building on Ninth Street, which is owned by—” The remote dropped from her hand, clattering on the floor.

  Flashes of the Salem restaurant disaster washed through her mind. Her mind went sluggish, her body chilled, her fingers fumbled even more as she reached down for the remote.

  Standing up again, she tried to gather her thoughts. Her brain disagreed. Numbly, she looked at the frowns on the faces before her. The projected slide caught her eye.

  The building. The cinder block building forgotten by the town. Her voice croaked, “The, um, the building has been empty for…” What was she supposed to say next? She looked down at her notes, but the words were just a jumble of letters.

  Her shaking hands sent an index card tumbling to the floor. She tried to grab it, but all she succeeded in doing was sending her pen after it.

  Her vision narrowed until all she could see was the surface of the podium, covered in the white rectangles of the cards. Her whole body was quivering. She had to get out of there.

  A soft snuffle worked its way through to her senses. Robin shifted her focus from the podium, and there was Augie at her feet, pushing her pen around with his nose.

  Augie, with his sweet fluff and terrier face. Augie, always there for her no matter the place, the time or how bad her mood.

  Augie finally got the pen to stop rolling long enough to grab it in his teeth. He looked up at her, then walked back to her feet and stood on his hind legs.

  She reached down for him, his warmth and love driving out the bleakness. He stretched his head forward, offering the pen. Smiling, she took it and ruffled his head. Then she turned back to her audience.

  “As you can see, these animals drive my life.” She could hear the confidence in her voice, knew it was showing up in her stance.

  * * *

  Aunt Jess was in town visiting Grandma, so the dining room was overly quiet as Cliff lowered himself onto a dining room chair. Worry flooded his mind and he pressed his elbows into the table.

  “The ranch isn’t doing so well.” Phil looked at his hands. “We’ll hold on through next year, and maybe the year after, but I’m cutting costs wherever I can. And that includes any vet work we’re capable of doing ourselves.”

  Cliff felt gut-punched. Couldn’t take a breath, couldn’t think. Losing the ranch would be devastating. What would he do? What would Uncle Phil and Aunt Jess do? He tried to picture them living in a small house in town, and just couldn’t.

  And Zeus. If Dr. Jan didn’t come for a few more days, would the wound be so infected it wouldn’t heal right? It might even lead to sepsis, which could be deadly.

  He tuned back in to his uncle’s voice saying the market had been down, and then they’d lost stock to a respiratory infection a year ago. “I’m sorry, son. Now you know why I wasn’t so interested in buying more land.”

  Cliff nodded. “What can I do? Are there other markets? What if we diversified, started boarding horses or something?”

  Phil sighed and pushed himself out of his chair. “Come on into the office and I’ll lay it all out for you. You can see if you think of anything I haven’t tried.”

  Cliff glanced at the clock. Seven o’clock and the town meeting was already sta
rting. Robin would be wondering where he was. But he couldn’t put Uncle Phil off, not when he was finally ready to open up. He prayed Robin would do okay—he’d just have to explain to her later.

  He and his uncle spent the next few hours going over spreadsheets and market forecasts, feed costs and calving rates. And vet bills and taxes. They talked about land use, the condition of the buildings, and the tractor that ought to be replaced.

  By the end of the evening, there was nothing Cliff could think of that Uncle Phil hadn’t already tried. Nothing that would do any good, anyway.

  * * *

  Robin’s words came smoothly now. “This building, which the town owns but seems to have forgotten, would be perfect for an animal shelter. It has plenty of space and the cinder block construction is easy to keep sanitary. We would renovate the inside, as shown in the folders in front of you, and instead of a forgotten eyesore, you would have a building and an organization that are assets to the town.”

  She flicked through the rest of her presentation, capturing the attention of most of the council, then answered questions about financing and timing for another few minutes.

  “I think we’ve got enough for a decision now, thank you,” Mrs. Goldberg said. She turned to look at the rest of the council. “I am fully behind Ms. Cooper’s proposal, so much so that I move that the town of McCormick’s Creek rent the said building to the non-profit organization she is setting up, for the amount of one dollar a month.”

  Robin, still at the podium, gasped and hugged Augie. Scattered applause came from her supporters, with a few gasps and “hold on there” comments from others.

  Mr. Thompson frowned. “I, too, am in favor of the proposal, but I see no need for this town to give up potential revenue when it is staring us in the face.”