Promises of the Heart

by Nan Rossiter

  “I did—we went running, and he gave me that beer.”

  “Oh, right! I couldn’t remember what you said.”

  “You couldn’t remember . . . or you weren’t listening?” he teased gently.

  “Probably both,” she said, smiling sheepishly. “You know how I am before I have my coffee.”

  “I do,” he agreed.

  She took another sip. “This is pretty good.” She studied the label and eyed him questioningly. “Intimidator?”

  “It’s Bump n’ Run’s signature beer, named for Dale Earnhardt.”

  Macey raised her eyebrows. “Bump and run?”

  “Yeah, Henry’s brewery is in the heart of NASCAR country, so everything about it has a racing theme,” Ben said, taking a sip of the beer and pulling her toward him.

  “Oh, by the way . . . the shelter called this morning . . . ,” Macey said as he kissed her neck. “And you’ll never guess what . . .”

  “What?”

  “Keeper’s all ours! We’ve been approved!”

  “Great,” he said with a hint of sarcasm.

  “And we can pick him up tomorrow at ten . . .”

  “Mmm,” he said again, kissing her eyelids.

  “But I’m supposed to get my hair cut . . .”

  “And I’m supposed to work . . .”

  “Can you work a little later?”

  Ben pulled back and searched her eyes. “See what I mean, Mace? He’s already causing conflicts—just picking him up is a problem. Not to mention, we aren’t ready to pick him up—we don’t have a collar, a leash, a crate. We don’t even have dog food!”

  Macey frowned. “It’s not a conflict. I’ll cancel my appointment if you have to work. And we do have those things. Except a crate. But I don’t think he needs to be in a crate—he’s not a puppy, so I got him a bed, and it’s supposed to come tomorrow.”

  Ben pulled away completely. “You mail-ordered a dog bed? From where?”

  “Bean.”

  “I should’ve known.”

  “They make the best beds . . . and it was on sale.”

  “Yeah? How much?”

  “I used the gift card you gave me for my birthday.”

  Ben sighed and took a long swig of his beer. “I think a crate would be better. What do we do if he gets into stuff?”

  “He’s not gonna get into stuff,” Macey said, frowning. “Ben, you said you were on board with this.”

  “I was on board with putting in an application, but I’m still not as sure as you that this is meant to be. Mace, a dog is going to tie us down. There will be no more picking up and going away whenever we want. We’ll always have to think of him and find someone to dog-sit. Not to mention, he’s going to be inside all day when we’re at work, which won’t be much fun for him, and you can’t guarantee he won’t get into stuff.”

  “We never go away, so that’s not going to be a problem, and he’s definitely not spending all day in a crate. If you’re so worried, we’ll get a gate and he can stay in the kitchen.” Macey leaned her back against the counter. “I can’t believe you’re making such a big deal out of this. Lots of people have dogs! And if we had a baby, we’d be even more tied down. We’d figure things out.”

  “We would take a baby with us if we went somewhere.”

  “Not to work.”

  Ben rolled his eyes. “What we’d figured out, Mace, is you’d be a stay-at-home mom.”

  The words stay-at-home mom—and the fact that she may never be one—struck a sensitive chord. Macey’s eyes glistened.

  “I told them we wanted him, and I’m not backing out,” she said with quiet conviction.

  “Oh, Mace,” Ben said, reaching for her hand. “Please don’t cry. I’m just trying to be realistic.”

  She pulled her hand away. “That’s the trouble, Ben,” she said. “You’re too realistic. Too cautious. You never want to take a chance on anything. You’re not spontaneous or compulsive. Everything always has to be all figured out. In advance.”

  “That’s not true. I take chances—I took a chance on this house!”

  She laughed. “Yeah, under duress.”

  Ben worked hard to suppress a smile and shook his head. “Not true.”

  “So true!”

  “I took a chance on you.”

  “Yeah, well”—Macey looked away—“maybe you shouldn’t have.”

  “Yeah, I should’ve,” he said softly, reaching for her hand again and pulling her against him. “I’m sorry I’m such a stick in the mud sometimes.”

  Macey rested her cheek on his chest and swallowed. “And I’m sorry I’m such a pain in the ass.”

  Ben smiled and kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay.” Ben leaned back and searched her eyes. “If you weren’t such a pain in the ass, my life would be really boring. I’d probably still be single . . . and I’d most likely live in a small, finished, simple house with no mortgage, minimal bills, and a healthy retirement portfolio. Instead, I have a whopper of a mortgage, a maxed-out home-equity loan, a car loan, someone else’s student loans, a house that needs endless work, and a retirement account I can never afford to add to.” He paused, smiling. “But I also have someone beautiful and loving to spend my retirement with . . . even if it’s in a tent.”

  “Hey now,” Macey said, mustering a smile. “It’s not that bad—my school loans are almost paid off, and we will never live in a tent.”

  “We might.”

  Macey rolled her eyes.

  “Do that again.”

  “What?”

  “Roll your eyes.”

  She shook her head. “How long before supper?”

  “I think it should simmer a bit. Want a drink?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  “Beer? Wine?”

  “I’d take one of Henry’s Intimidators if you’re sharing? Pairs best with this menu.”

  Ben opened a black bottle for her and pulled her closer, slowly unbuttoning the top of her shirt.

  “So, what do you think about Keeper?” Macey pressed, trying to keep him on topic.

  “I’m not thinking about Keeper,” he murmured, kissing the curve of her neck.

  Macey leaned into him. “If you said yes, I wouldn’t be thinking about him, either,” she teased, unbuttoning his shirt and tracing her fingertips along the smooth skin of his chest.

  “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to bribe me.”

  “I would never do that,” she whispered innocently as she pressed against him.

  Ben took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he leaned back and searched her eyes. “I know you have your heart set on getting him, Mace, so how can I say no?”

  “I don’t want you to just not say no . . . I want you to want him, too.”

  “Do you want me to be honest?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I’m not convinced that getting a dog with three legs is the best idea, but time will tell, won’t it?”

  Macey pulled away and pressed her lips together in a sad smile. “I guess.” She put her beer on the counter and looked out the window. “I’ve had a long day and I’m going to get my pj’s on.”

  Ben watched her go and took another long sip of his beer. “So much for what I had in mind,” he muttered, lifting the lid and giving the sausage and peppers a stir.

  22

  HARPER OPENED HER EYES AND BLINKED AT THE BRIGHT SUNLIGHT streaming through the window. She was so glad Cora had been able to get special permission for her to stay with them. She looked around the room and rubbed her chest, but the pain was gone. She pushed back her blanket and sat up, making the cot squeak. “Rudy, you awake?” she asked softly.

  An unintelligible mumble came from the bed next to her.

  “It’s morning.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “I smell bacon.”

  “Mom’s making pancakes,” Rudy murmured sleepily.

  Harper’s eyes brightened. She couldn’t remember the last time sh
e’d had pancakes. “Is it okay if I go see?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  Harper tiptoed down the hall and saw Cora standing at the stove. She was humming something, but as soon as Harper peered around the doorway, she stopped. “How you feelin’, baby?”

  Harper’s eyes grew wide. “How’d you know I was here?”

  Cora smiled but didn’t turn around. “Because I have eyes in the back of my head.”

  “You do not,” Harper said, inspecting the back of Cora’s curly salt-and-pepper head, just to be sure. “What are you making?”

  “Blueberry pancakes.”

  “Can I help?”

  “Sure.” Cora took a sip of her coffee and turned the bacon, which was sizzling and popping in an old cast-iron pan. She looked down at Harper’s tangled red hair. “You have some serious bed head goin’ on, girl.”

  “I know,” Harper said, peering at the bacon. “Mrs. Lewis said it’s a rat’s nest, and it hurt when she brushed it. She said I need a damn haircut.”

  Cora sighed. “Maybe we can fit one in. And you don’t need to repeat everything Mrs. Lewis says exactly the way she says it.”

  “Oh, that’s nothing! She says a lot worse than that.”

  “Well, it’s not very ladylike, and if you want to be a lady, you won’t copy her.”

  Harper grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You’re such a fresh kid,” Cora said, chuckling.

  “I know.”

  Harper watched Cora scoop flour into a measuring cup. “What can I do?”

  “You can start by rinsing the blueberries,” Cora said, pointing to a container on the counter, “and then you can help make the batter.”

  “Okay.” Harper turned on the cold water and held the container under it, popping several plump blueberries into her mouth at the same time. “Mmm, these are good!”

  Cora looked over. “Don’t eat ’em all or we’ll be having plain pancakes.”

  Harper popped one more in her mouth and then turned off the water and set the container on a paper towel. She watched Cora pour milk into the flour mixture.

  “Do you know how to crack an egg?”

  Harper shrugged. “I guess.”

  Core looked at her and frowned. “You’re ten years old an’ you never broke an egg?”

  “Nine.”

  “Nine, ten”—Cora sighed as she reached for an egg—“High time you learn, regardless.” She cracked the egg on the edge of the bowl, pulled the edges apart, and released the egg with a dusty plop onto the flour. Then she nodded to the other egg. “You try.” Harper reached for the egg and tapped it gently on the edge of the bowl. “A little harder,” Cora instructed, and Harper tapped the egg harder, but because she was holding it too tightly, it broke in her hands. “That’s okay,” Cora said, pushing Harper’s hands over the bowl. “Jus’ let it go.”

  Harper dropped the whole egg, shell and all, into the bowl and then held her dripping hands over it. “Sorry,” she said softly, feeling stupid.

  “It’s okay, baby,” Cora said, reaching into the bowl to pick out the pieces of shell. “It takes a little practice. You’ll get the hang of it. Wash your hands good, though.”

  Harper started to rinse her hands, but when Cora looked over and realized she was only using cold water, she turned on the hot. “You have to use hot water and soap.”

  “Why?” Harper asked, frowning.

  “Salmonella.”

  “What’s sam-o-nella?”

  “It’s bacteria that can make you sick.”

  “Oh,” Harper said, frowning again. “Can you die from it?”

  “Probably not, but it’ll give you the runs and make you real sick, so anytime you handle eggs or raw meat, you have to wash with hot sudsy water.”

  Harper squeezed more soap onto her palms and washed her hands again—she had enough to worry about without worrying about getting the runs from sam-o-nella, too.

  “Can I help?” Rudy asked, coming into the kitchen.

  “Sure,” Cora said, handing her the spatula.

  Rudy pulled a chair up to the counter, and without needing any direction, started to stir the flour, eggs, and milk. “How come there’s eggshell in here?”

  “Because we wanted crunchy pancakes,” Cora said, winking at Harper—who grinned and winked back.

  A moment later, Harper was on the chair next to Rudy, both eating just as many blueberries as Harper was dropping into the bowl. “It’s ready, Mama,” Rudy announced.

  Cora peered into the bowl to check the consistency. “Okay,” she said, nodding. And as Rudy ladled generous scoops of batter onto the hot griddle, Harper hopped down to set the table.

  “I just love it here,” she announced, bending down to stroke McMuffin’s soft fur. Then she poured orange juice into the glasses Cora had set out and hopped back on the chair with Rudy.

  “How they comin’, Rudy?” she asked, draping her arm over her friend’s shoulder.

  “They’s a-comin’,” Rudy said, laughing and putting her arm around Harper’s shoulder, too.

  Cora took a sip of her coffee and watched them. Just a week earlier, Harper had been in the emergency room. Now she was hopping around, helping make pancakes.

  “Don’t be fooled,” Dr. Hack had warned. “Things can change in a heartbeat.”

  Cora sighed—she’d had to do some serious wrangling to get permission for Harper to stay with her, even temporarily. In the end, the only reason her boss had given in was because Harper’s medical issues were so serious . . . and the fact that other foster homes weren’t available. No one wanted Harper. She had literally nowhere else to go. Still, Cora wished she could do more for her. Every once in a while a child came through the system who found a special place in her heart, and that fresh little redhead was definitely one of them. As tough as she was on the outside, Cora knew it was all a front—a defense mechanism to protect her from getting hurt again—and she was really a softy on the inside. She’d thought seriously about adopting her—she’d even prayed about it, but she just didn’t get the sense that it was the right answer. The good Lord must have someone else in mind, and she wished he would show his hand.

  23

  “I’M COMING!” MACEY CALLED, PULLING HER FLEECE OVER HER HEAD and reaching for her keys and the new cobalt-blue collar and leash she’d picked up at the feed store during her lunch break the day before. She hurried outside and saw Ben standing in the driveway, looking at his phone. When he heard her on the porch, he looked up and smiled.

  “At least you’re smiling,” she said, her heart feeling lighter. She’d been so worried about getting Keeper without Ben’s full support that she’d hardly slept, but this morning she’d heard him call Gage and the other guys and tell them they had the day off, and now he was waiting patiently for her, his tan face accentuated by sun-streaked hair, reminding her of the boy with whom she’d fallen in love. To this day, when she paused to really see Ben and not take his presence for granted, he still made her heart skip. And now, as he stood there in the morning sunlight, his faded jeans hanging loosely on his hips, and his blue button-down oxford neatly tucked in under his canvas Carhartt work jacket—he was obviously trying to look like a responsible pet owner—she wished she’d let him have his way last night, instead of being the spouse who played her I’ve had a long day card a little too often.

  “Of course I’m smiling! I’m married to the prettiest girl in the world.”

  “I think you must mean the most headstrong.”

  “Well, that too,” Ben teased, putting his arm around her. “I’m also smiling because Gage and Maeve think it’s funny we’re getting a dog when Maeve said you were adamant about not getting one. She says you’re an old softy.”

  “Hey, it’s a girl’s prerogative to change her mind.”

  “It is indeed,” Ben teased. “Anyway, they want to come by and meet him, and Gage said he’d help me build a ramp if we need one.”

  “But Maeve already met him! In fact, this is all her fault
.”

  “Well, she must want to meet him again.”

  Macey rolled her eyes, even though she was glad they were coming over.

  Fifteen minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of Noah’s Ark Animal Shelter. “You’re positive about this?” Ben asked, looking over.

  “I am,” Macey confirmed. “I have this feeling we’re supposed to give him a home. He belongs with us.”

  “Okay,” Ben said with a resigned sigh, but when they opened their doors and heard a chorus of barking, he added, “I hope he’s not a barker.”

  They walked inside, and the receptionist, who was on the phone, smiled. She gestured that she’d be right with them, and Macey nodded and stood next to Ben. The room smelled like wet fur and pet food, and although there was a full dustpan and broom in the corner, wispy hair floated everywhere in the morning sunlight. Macey looked around and noticed a gray tiger cat curled up in one of the chairs, sunning itself. She smiled and turned to Ben. “I wonder what his name is.”

  “Whatever it is, we’re not getting him,” he whispered.

  The receptionist hung up the phone. “How can I help?”

  Macey cleared her throat. “We’re here to pick up Keeper.”

  The receptionist smiled. “Oh! I heard our Keeper was getting a fur-ever home! He is such a sweetheart. We’re going to miss him.”

  Macey nodded, not knowing what to say.

  “Hang on,” she said, getting up. “I’ll let them know you’re here.” She disappeared down the hall. A moment later she was back. “Okay, I need you to sign some papers and . . .” She looked up. “You know there’s an adoption fee, right?”

  Macey frowned. “No. How much is it?”

  “Well, it’s really a suggested donation—it covers expenses. It’s a hundred dollars.”

  “Oh,” Macey said. “They didn’t tell us. I’ll have to get my . . .”

  “Here,” Ben said, stopping her and pulling out his wallet. “Use this.” He slipped a neatly folded hundred-dollar bill from behind his driver’s license.

  “No, not your lucky hundred,” Macey said, putting up her hand. “I’ll just go to the car.”

  Ben shook his head and looked her in the eye. “What better way to spend it?”