by Debbie Burns
“Didn’t Karen tell you when you called?”
“Tell us what?” Olivia and Ava chimed in at once.
“You were right about them kids knowing more than they were letting on. They tagged us in a post that they’d taped of that rescue of your friend’s. Karen sent a friend request, and not ten minutes later the girl’s mom called. Turns out she was a cousin of the homeowner. Says she had next to no contact with him. No one in her family did. He passed away a little over three weeks ago.”
“Did they say who’s been caring for the dog?”
One side of Rhonda’s mouth turned down in something between a frown and a grimace. “From what she said, her cousin lived alone. And he didn’t leave a will. His property’s in limbo.” She sighed and tossed a rag over her shoulder. “The really sad part is apparently none of his relatives knew he had a dog till her daughter and boyfriend came to check out the flooding and poke around in his yard. That was the day before they called us. They were concerned that the dog wasn’t being cared for, and the woman spent the afternoon making calls to see who’d been left in charge of the dog, but no one was. When the kids went back to check on him the next day, the water had come up and they couldn’t get him out.”
Olivia locked a hand over her chest. Her knees were on the verge of buckling. “You mean the beautiful dog was locked in that pen with no one caring for him for over three weeks?”
Rhonda squeezed her shoulder. “I’d like to say time in the business makes these things easier to hear, but it didn’t for me. Heartbreaking as it is, it was twenty-five days if you take into account the man’s hospitalization before he passed.”
Ava clamped a hand over her mouth. “How did he survive without food and water?”
“In cases like this, all I can say is put it to God or good fortune, whichever drives you.”
“Where is he?” Olivia took off for the center row of crates where she’d last seen him, but he wasn’t there.
“He’s on the end by the door. Thought it might help him to see out.”
Olivia noticed his spotted-liver paw pressing against the metal door of the crate and headed over with Ava following close behind. “There you are, sweet boy.” Olivia sank onto her heels and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Remember me, buddy? Probably not, I’m guessing.”
As if asserting that he did, the pointer stood up and let out a single baritone “Woof.”
His docked tail was wagging with the consistency of a set of wiper blades set to high, making Olivia laugh.
“I think he does,” Ava said. “Look at the way he’s looking at you.”
“Can I walk him?” Olivia directed to Rhonda.
“Be my guest. But have your sister stand guard behind you while you clip on his leash. If he gets away, I don’t think he’ll stick around. And be aware. He pulls hard enough to lead a sled team when he has the mind to.”
Olivia let him sniff her hand through the bars first, then she jogged over for one of several leashes hung on an eyebolt sticking out of the wooden frame at the edge of the sliding doors.
“Give it your best linebacker look behind me, will you?”
“Why do I feel like you and I are both about to get bowled over?”
“He’s a sweetie. I bet he just can’t stand to be stuck in a crate.” Olivia pinched open the release and opened the door just enough to slip her hand through. After a gentle pat on his smooth, lean shoulder, she clipped the leash to his so-new-it-was-stiff blue nylon collar. Locking her other hand inside the hand grip of the leash, she opened the door and popped up to her feet.
Much like the thoroughbred Rhonda had compared him to, he leaped out of the crate with a force that nearly swept Olivia off her feet. She winced at the jolt to her shoulder. Under no delusions about who was leading whom, she hung on as he dragged her outside and over to a short, stubby tree. He peed a long stream at hip level, then trotted off immediately toward a couple shrubs on the opposite side of the driveway.
He glanced her way as if he was a bit unsure why he was being followed but then dismissed her as he became absorbed in sniffing and scent marking the shrubs. Olivia scanned the gravel, grass, and bushes as he did, but her phone was nowhere in sight.
Halfway to one of the nearby big trees, he stopped short and stared off into the grass with such intensity that Olivia stiffened. His tail stuck out straight behind him, one front paw curled in against his chest, and he became as still as a statue.
Olivia followed his gaze till she spotted a robin hopping about on the hunt for worms or insects. She giggled and turned to Ava. “He seems full pointer, doesn’t he?”
Ava nodded. “Yep. Brace yourself in case he bolts for it. He shouldn’t, but you never know.”
Seconds ticked away, and the dog did nothing but stare at the robin. Olivia kept her legs braced and her hands wrapped tight around the leash, but after half a minute passed, all he did was take another step and curl his other paw into his chest.
After watching a bit longer, Ava whispered. “Looks to me like you’ve got this. You good if I go see a woman about a cat?”
“Sure. We’re good. But he’s a doll, isn’t he?”
“He is. For a hunting dog. Though I’m pretty sure they’re bred to be useful more than they are cute. Cute’s a hammy-legged corgi or pug or even a boxer.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “Beautiful, then, if you’re going to be a stickler. I think he’s as beautiful as a dog gets. Especially when he puts another ten or so pounds back on.”
Ava shook her head as she took off. “And which of us needs a reminder about Aunt Becky’s place being ruled by a parrot?”
“Cockatoo,” Olivia replied before adding a nearly silent “Me.” She smoothed her hand along the top of the dog’s head and down his neck to his long back. If he even noticed, he didn’t let on. A second robin had joined the first, and he was oblivious to everything else in the world, including her.
Olivia didn’t care. She couldn’t remember feeling this way about a dog in a long time. And Ava’s words were a reminder she needed about Aunt Becky’s small, cramped place; it just wasn’t the right home for this remarkable animal who’d been through so much already. As much as she might like it to be.
Chapter 13
Whether he liked it or not, Gabe was pretty sure not being able to sleep in past a quarter to six was a sign of maturity, not insomnia. As much as he’d enjoy lazing in bed this morning and hopefully dozing until his alarm went off at seven, he figured he was better off getting his ass moving instead. Wednesdays were his one free weekday morning. And this was only because his office was open late on the hump day for clients needing that option.
He didn’t need to be in until eleven since he’d be there until seven or eight tonight. He’d gotten into the habit of going out to breakfast on Wednesdays with his brother, who was a second-shift security guard at Wash U, but today his brother and sister-in-law were headed to an assembly at their daughter’s school.
After disregarding a pile of dirty laundry for another day, Gabe tugged on a pair of somewhat-clean athletic pants and a T-shirt and chugged a glass of water. Samson was still in a heavy doze and would be fine waiting to go to the bathroom till he got back, so Gabe headed out for a run.
In high school and undergrad, he’d played baseball. Had he been forced into track at gunpoint back then, he would have chosen sprints over distance runs any day of the week. For the last year, committed to adding something to his exercise routine besides weights, he’d taken up jogging. At first it had been small-scale torture. But he’d worked his way up to seven-mile runs a few times a week. Doing so made him feel better about the two or three cheeseburgers and the fourteen-ounce steak that typically ended up being a less healthy part of his routine each week. Eventually, he was going to have to expand his cooking skills beyond baking frozen foods, grilling, boiling water for pasta, and managing to not ma
ssacre a pan of scrambled eggs.
Yun was quick to point out that all the things he resisted would keep presenting themselves over again until he figured them out, and he couldn’t say he disagreed with her.
At a couple of minutes until six, it was still dark except for a sliver of royal-blue horizon in the east. And as much as he’d resisted running, he’d grown to enjoy the light smack of his feet on pavement and the consistent, controlled tightness in his lungs and windpipe when he fell into the rhythm of it.
He also liked the way his thoughts came and went like clouds while running. Claire had been into meditation and had always been on him to make a habit of working it into his days. He’d attempted it with her enough times, but he’d never been able to keep his mind from racing. Outside on the pavement, he was pretty sure this was as close as he’d ever be able to get to true meditation. Sometimes a half mile would pass, and Gabe would realize he’d been in a state of presence he couldn’t explain.
When he got back, the sun was shining brightly over the horizon and Samson was in the galley kitchen, lapping up water.
“Morning, bud.” Gabe leaned over, still a bit breathless, and gave him a doubled-handed scratch of his ears and throat, which Samson leaned into, directing Gabe where to scratch. Samson panted, his mouth agape in an easy smile. “That morning breath of yours isn’t getting any better.”
Gabe took him downstairs for a short walk, appreciating the way his dog stopped along the way for a series of deep stretches, then meandered from bush to bush without hurry. When he’d had his fill of sniffs and had done his business, Samson headed for the back door of the building with no cajoling. Gabe dropped the poop bag into the dumpster and trailed up the interior building steps to his apartment after him. Unlike the other night when he’d needed to be carried, Samson took the steps slowly but without hesitation today. This was good to see.
For the last couple days, when Gabe jangled his keys, indicating it was time to head out for the day, Samson had retreated to Gabe’s bed and circled up for a nap. And while Gabe trusted that Samson knew what he needed, seeing his dog choose a quiet day of napping over a day at the office stabbed at his heart.
Aside from when Gabe had gone to class, Samson had gone pretty much everywhere with him for the last five years. Like it or not, he needed to face the fact that Samson was a senior dog now.
And accepting this was causing him to take a hard look at his life. In the chaos and stress of school and in the wake of Claire leaving, it had been easy to choose the companionship of the most loyal dog he’d ever met and ignore the fact that he was keeping everyone else at a distance.
In taking this hard look, Gabe was realizing that, unexpectedly, he’d met someone he very much wanted to let in. Even as he accepted the truth of it, fear threatened to incapacitate him, binding his intestines into a knot whenever he let the awareness in.
Olivia had rocked his world with her genuineness, her refreshing honesty, and that kiss. So much so, she’d come close to shaking it off its axis.
And now, she wasn’t returning his calls. Or texts.
He’d done his best to give her whatever space she needed. She’d call, he was certain. Pretty certain anyway. He couldn’t accept that he’d read her wrong. She’d felt a connection too. He’d experienced it in her kiss and seen it in her eyes.
But she wasn’t calling. Or texting. Not even a Thanks but I need some time to think things through. Nothing.
He couldn’t fathom that she was being coy or playing hard to get. Just as he couldn’t fathom he’d read her wrong.
Which put him at a stalemate. In a moment of weakness, Gabe had done an online search and found her name in a school newsletter recognizing her for being teacher of the month for her dedication to helping students with dyslexia. She was working in a magnet prep school downtown in Soulard, less than five miles away. She’d told him she taught eighth-grade math, just not where. But now he knew. And she was closer than he’d imagined.
After he showered, ate a semirespectable skillet of scrambled eggs topped with cheese and salsa, and was ready to leave, Samson gave him a pointed look and a yawn and headed off to his room and the bed again.
“Sweet dreams, bud. I’ll do what I can to swing by here this afternoon when I run out to the shelter. Otherwise, it’ll be a long day of not much for you.”
Carrying a thermos mug of fresh coffee, Gabe gave Samson a final pat and headed out. It wasn’t until he was seated inside the Tacoma and flipping over the ignition that he realized he didn’t have anywhere he needed to be right now.
And while there was no place he had to be, there was one place he very much wanted to be. And he was coming up with very few reasons not to at least give it a try.
* * *
If ever she’d been so mesmerized by a pair of sable-brown eyes that had shown this much disinterest in her, Olivia couldn’t remember. But this dog had had her even before their first real hello. And now that she had an inkling of what he’d been through in the last month, her compassion for him had increased tenfold.
Last night, Ava had assured her she was making progress breaking through that indifferent exterior of his. Olivia wasn’t convinced. In fact, she was afraid her attempts at showing him genuine compassion hadn’t even made a dent.
Fighting off a sleep-deprived hangover from their late night, Olivia sat out on the grass in Aunt Becky’s backyard and fed the pointer spoonfuls of kibble out of her hand. The damp grass soaked into the old jogging shorts she’d slept in, helping her resist the temptation to lie back and close her eyes. The only way she’d make it through this day was with copious amounts of coffee.
It had been after midnight by the time she’d gotten home to her aunt’s, and another hour or so after that before she’d gotten the dog settled and crawled into bed. Since Olivia was mobile again and could get to work on her own, Ava had gone home—newly adopted cat in tow—to her house in Kirkwood. If Wes was there, which she’d figured he would be, Ava intended to kick him to the couch for the night. Fair was fair. He was the one initiating the divorce. He could wake up with a crick in his neck for a few nights while they figured out the next steps.
And while Olivia had only been sharing a bed again with her sister for four nights, the tiny guest room she’d been sleeping in since January had seemed just a bit lonely for the first time. Her sister had left their grandparents’ home so many years ago, Olivia had forgotten how all-encompassing her larger-than-life presence was.
Dinner at her grandparents’ had taken just as long and been just as draining as Olivia would’ve guessed. The best parts had been the breaks to get the dog out of his crate and let him explore the farm. He’d been fine with the other dogs, though his real interest had been in the birds he’d spotted hopping along the ground before it got dark.
“It just seems like you’re rubbing it in Trevor’s face,” her mom had said when they were alone in the kitchen spooning ice cream into sundae bowls. “Coming home unannounced—engaging in romantic escapades that turn into the talk of the town.”
The hair on the back of Olivia’s neck had prickled. Her parents had said they understood Olivia’s reasons for calling off the wedding, but Olivia suspected that if they’d had their wish, she’d have gone through with it. “I didn’t plan a romantic escapade. Just like I didn’t plan for my car to break down or to need a ride from a really amazing guy. It just sort of happened.”
“You could’ve called us.”
“If I’d called you, I wouldn’t have met Gabe. And there’s a good chance that dog on your porch would’ve drowned in his pen.”
It had been enough to stop her mom from any further protests. After they finished scooping the ice cream in silence, she asked, “Does this mean you’re dating him?”
“It doesn’t mean I won’t, given the opportunity.” Olivia set the scoop on the counter a little too hard. “Losing my phone hasn’t he
lped things be any less complicated.”
Her mom had wiped up a few drops of ice cream melting on the counter. “Just move slowly, will you? Those city boys have got a whole slew of problems nowadays. From painkiller addictions to that dark web they’re always talking about. The world’s a good deal more complicated than it used to be.”
Although she knew it wouldn’t make a bit of difference to her mom’s beliefs, Olivia had replied that addictions were popping their ugly heads up in rural areas too.
She sat on the grass in the soft morning light and rolled her shoulders, trying to dispel the tension setting up there. The truth was as obvious as the bright-yellow petals of the dandelions popping up all over the place. The longer she was away, the more obvious it was that a part of her had left the Bootheel for good.
Once the pointer had vacuumed up nearly half a cup of kibble from the palm of her hand, Olivia led him over to the back porch where she scooped out the rest of his breakfast. Coco spotted him through the window and let out a series of raucous squawks. Before dipping his head into the bowl to devour the rest of his breakfast, the nervous dog barked a single booming woof that sent Coco into a fresh tizzy.
After inhaling the rest of his kibble, the pointer licked his empty bowl. Olivia patted his back. “Good boy. Good…whatever your name is. I guess we’ll never know, considering no one even knew you existed.”
It wasn’t so much that she wanted the dog to bond with her; it was that she wanted him to bond with someone. She couldn’t imagine a dog more deserving of a bit of pampering than he was.
It didn’t even make a difference if his owner had been kind and caring or tough and stern or something in between. He’d been locked in a pen for nearly a month and had been slowly starving. What mattered now was that he end up in a loving, caring home and have a chance to bond with someone the way Samson had with Gabe.
Gabe. Ugh. Just thinking of him got her insides in a twist. It would’ve been so much easier if she’d found her phone. But she hadn’t. So tonight she’d be headed for the phone store after work. Ava had helped her feel better by reassuring her that if he’d left her any voicemails, she’d be able to access them on a new phone. If he hadn’t, she could even see about having her phone company download her recent texts for her.