by Jen Peters
Cliff rocked them gently with the toe of his boot and settled a kiss in her hair. They sat in companionable silence, watching the dogs tussle over a chewed-up Frisbee.
The two of them were growing into some sort of relationship, but Robin really didn’t know that much about Cliff. Was this casual and common to him, or did it mean as much as it did to her? She’d fallen asleep many times dreaming of dancing with him, riding, kissing. And of course other images slipped in—a house together, walking hand in hand when they were old. What girl could help but dream of the future when she was falling in love?
But she didn’t even know if he was going to stay around or leave for somewhere else someday. She couldn’t ask outright, though—dreaming was one thing, but she sure didn’t want to bring up the M word!
Finally she said, “So what are you going to do when things get quiet during the winter?”
Cliff stilled behind her. Finally he answered, “I hope I’ll still be working for Uncle Phil. I’ve been gathering ideas for expanding, but he’s always too busy to talk about it.”
He didn’t sound like he was finished. Robin waited, enjoying the weight of his arm around her shoulders, leaning the back of her head against his chest. The quiet of the evening enveloped them, and she savored the peaceful companionship.
Cliff’s voice was a deep rumble when he spoke again. “The thing is, the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do was be a rancher. Cattle, horses, whatever. I thought I had my whole future ahead of me, and then Dad died in that car crash and we lost the ranch.”
Robin squeezed his hand. He squeezed it back, then put both arms around her and pulled her snug against him. “Phil used to have half a dozen hands working for him, but it’s been just him and Jory the last couple of years. There’s a lot for me to do and he seems happy to have me here, but I don’t know if he really wants me around.”
She turned to face him. “Of course he does. He loves you!”
“I don’t want to be the poor orphan boy, though, even if I’m not quite an orphan.” Then he settled back and pulled her into his lap. “I guess what I’d really like, if I could dream, would be to make enough difference on the ranch that Phil might make me a partner. He’s got no reason to—I’m not his son or anything—but that’s my fairy tale wish.”
Robin thought a moment. “Doesn’t he have kids?”
“Two daughters. Carla’s here in town and Olivia is back east. Neither of them are interested in running the ranch, though, and Phil might want to sell it when he retires.”
Robin drew circles on the back of his hand, and he put his lips to her hair again. “Could you sound him out at all? Believe me, I know it’s hard not to know what your future is.”
“Mm-mm,” Cliff murmured, laying his cheek sideways against her head. “I just keep my head down and keep working.” Then he pulled her around and lowered his mouth to hers.
Caressed by the evening air, they settled their uncertainties with soft kisses, deep kisses, and plenty of intense, soul-searching gazes. She breathed him in, felt the stubble on his jaw, the delicious pressure of his lips. In return, she gave him butterfly kisses across his face and an occasional hard pull of his head to hers.
She eventually pulled back and gazed into his eyes. “Wow. That’s going to take some recovery.”
Cliff chuckled and settled her more comfortably. “So what about you? What’s with you and presentations?”
Robin forced the sudden tension out of her body. This was the man she was falling in love with, and she had to tell him sometime, no matter how embarrassing it was.
“You know Ree Swanson?” she asked, beginning at an easy spot. “Her mom has the flower shop and she’s engaged to Mitchell Blake?”
Cliff nodded. “Your best friend.”
“Since we were in diapers. We were the Two Rs—Robin and Ree—all through school. Closer than if we’d been sisters. Then in sixth grade, Lorraine moved in next door. I liked her, and she was fun, and she shortened her name to Raine so we could be the Three Rs.”
Robin sighed, remembering. “We had so much fun together. We played pranks on our brothers, we whispered about guys, all that girl stuff. And we marched into high school together and just plain didn’t care what the popular girls did. We had other friends, but we made up our own world, you know?”
She didn’t continue for long enough that Cliff spoke up. “So what happened? That all sounds pretty good.”
Robin pressed her lips together. “Something changed the summer before our senior year. Raine got invited to a party with the “in” crowd and started to distance herself from us. I mean, she still hung out with us sometimes, but she ate lunch with them a lot and partied with them and stuff. And then …” She couldn’t go any further.
Cliff tightened his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her hair. “And then what, sweetheart?”
“We had a big project for History, each person doing a close-up of a particular decade. Fifteen long minutes, and it had to be good. We worked hard, all of us. Ree and I were presenting on a Wednesday and Raine was on Thursday. So Tuesday night, we were all at my house doing the final touches.”
She turned to face him, not caring that there were tears in her eyes. “I had worked so hard, Cliff! And somehow, sometime when I went to the bathroom or something, Raine took my flash drive and copied it onto her computer.”
“But…she was going the day after you. It wouldn’t make sense for her to steal your work.”
“She didn’t,” Robin groaned. “She sabotaged it. Or at least gave it to someone else to mess with. I’m still not sure when they switched my flash drive out and put theirs in.
“When it was my turn, I was nervous but started out fine. And then when I got to the third slide, it was flipped backwards. I thought I had made a mistake. But I kept going, ‘cause you have to, you know? But then slides started showing up with wrong, stupid captions, and with animal heads pasted on the people, and I froze, and before the teacher could stop it, one of the mean girls took the remote and clicked through to—”
Cliff’s voice was gentle. “To what, sweetheart?”
“To a picture of a naked woman sprawled on a bed, with my head pasted on instead of hers.” Robin buried her face in his shirt, soaking it with her tears.
Cliff cursed under his breath but didn’t pull away, just held her close and rubbed her back.
“Look, honey, that’s the most awful thing I can think of for one girl to do to another. But it can’t hurt you now.”
Robin sniffed and wiped her face. “It didn’t stop there. They passed that picture all around the school, plus a few more they made up. And I guess some of them looked pretty authentic because I started getting texts with hateful comments. I learned to stay away from social media, too, but I could hardly walk through the halls at school.”
“Oh, Robin.” Cliff pressed her head against his chest and stroked her hair. “They were jerks. Totally ignorant jerks.”
And that was it. No telling her how she could have prevented it, no saying how she should have acted instead, no suggestions of what she could have done for revenge. He simply held her close and made her feel safe.
They spent a long time just sitting and rocking, listening to the crickets and watching the moon rise.
“Do you think you’ll ever conquer it?” Cliff finally asked.
Robin sighed against him. “I don’t know. College made it worse. My boyfriend set me up for a joke in front of his whole fraternity, so I really don’t like anything with crowds and mob mentality anymore. Then some of my marketing classes had people who liked to grind others into the dirt, and I was one of their targets.”
Cliff chuckled. “You must have been stiff competition for them, and they were afraid.”
“Or they were getting in good practice for the cut-throat business world out there. Whatever. But it sure put a road block in my career path. I mean, I graduated—it would have been stupid to quit so close. But I really don’t know what to do now, and i
t’s been three years.”
“You do know what to do.” Cliff kissed her hair again, then turned her face toward his. “You’re going to be the founder and director of the McCormick’s Creek Animal Shelter, right?”
Robin smiled. “I am, aren’t I? If I can stand up in front of the town council, anyway.”
They shared another long, luscious kiss that heated her core and sent tingles from top to bottom, before Cliff said, “I’ve got to get back. I’ll call you tomorrow?”
“I have the morning shift, so anytime after two.”
He kissed her lightly, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and looked solemnly into her eyes. “You’re strong, Robin Cooper. You need to remember that, no matter how many people tried to make you think otherwise.”
She nodded just as solemnly. She would try. He touched his lips to hers again, then climbed in his truck.
Robin watched his taillights until they disappeared around the corner. He made her feel warm and loved. Even more than that, knowing that he thought she was strong somehow made her so.
She wondered if this was what her mom had had with her father. If this was how it felt when love really worked, when you knew someone would always be on your side.
Chapter 18
Robin paced back and forth in the living room, Augie trailing her every footstep, and Jinx watching from his playpen. She breathed deeply. “I can do this,” she told the dogs. “It’s only a phone call. It’s a good proposal that the town should want to hear. I mean, they didn’t even know they owned the building, so putting it to a good use should make them happy. Right?”
Jinx looked at her with sad eyes. Robin glanced outside at the other dogs tussling with a deflated ball. “I know, boy, but you can’t romp with them until you get your cast off.”
She pulled her phone from her pocket and brought up the number for the town hall. Her hand trembled. “Get a grip, Robin,” she scolded herself. “This is something any grown woman can do easily.” Cliff knew she could, and believed she would succeed. Still, she hesitated.
Augie pawed her leg. Shaggy hair fell over his big brown eyes. She bent and scooped him up, and he burrowed his head under her chin. Her heart rate slowly calmed. “Thanks, mophead,” she said, finally pressing the number.
“Hi, my name is Robin Cooper, and I’d like to bring something up at the next town council meeting. Can you tell me how to get on the agenda, please?”
Two transfers later, she gave her name and topic to the right person and then pressed End. “That’s it, Augie, we’re on. Seven p.m. next Tuesday.” She dropped onto the couch and hugged the small dog. He licked her face, and she laughed. “It feels so good to have that done!” And Cliff would be proud of her. Well, he probably wouldn’t use those words—it would be more like ‘of course you did it.’ Which was just as good.
It was odd how having him believe in her meant so much more than having her mother say the same thing. But this must be what it was like to be on the same wavelength with someone you love. And she did love him. Amazingly, he seemed to love her just as much.
She tried not to go too far in daydreaming about them, but it was difficult sometimes. They would ride together—without her falling off— and dance and maybe go over to the coast sometime. She envisioned him taking her for a walk on a starry night, or maybe when it was snowing big, poofy flakes, then getting down on one knee and proposing. She’d put her hand over her mouth in surprise, then throw her arms around his neck with a Yes! Then they’d kiss forever.
A wedding was somehow still blurry, but she pictured them out on the Jackson ranch, perhaps in a house of their own a little apart from Mr. Jackson’s house. Would she start calling him Uncle Phil instead of Mr. Jackson? She liked Mrs. Jackson, too, and when kids came, they’d be like grandparents.
She blushed, although there was nobody to see. Kids. She really was getting carried away. She put Augie down and brushed his stray hairs off her shirt.
Robin bounced her way through her work shift, to the point that her mother asked what was going on, and even Mac from the hardware store raised his bushy white eyebrows.
She couldn’t help it. She just had this feeling that everything was perfect. Cliff would love her forever, she would whiz through the council presentation, they’d say yes, and she’d set up the most fabulous animal shelter ever.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket as she served a sky-high piece of lemon meringue pie. She listened to Mitch’s voicemail after she refilled everyone’s coffee, then called him back.
“Robin, thanks for getting back to me,” Mitch said. “Do you remember I said I’d try to set up a meeting with possible donors?”
Robin nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see her. “Yes.”
“I have two people interested, and they’ve finally worked out their schedules. Are you available for lunch next Tuesday?”
“Of course.” She’d make sure she was, even if she had to trade shifts with someone.
“Good. Tanesha Williams owns a software company in Portland but is willing to come to Salem. She’ll want numbers from you, but mostly wants to get a feel for you and your plans. You’ll need to be put together and professional. And Amanda Carlyle is an animal lover from the get-go, supports causes all over the state. But she likes to know her money will be well handled.”
“Thank you!” It was all Robin could do not to gush. She knew her passion would come through, and the women sounded like a perfect fit.
“One o’clock at Le Jardin in Salem. Your GPS should find it with no problem.”
Robin gulped. A restaurant called Le Jardin sounded sophisticated. “Thanks again, Mitch. I won’t let you down.” She hung up, half excited and half petrified, running her mind through her wardrobe for anything suitable. Or at least something that wouldn’t embarrass her.
* * *
Robin worked her feet off at the restaurant Saturday morning. There was an early crowd of mountain bikers, and as they left, it seemed everyone in town showed up—Miss Lily and Miss Rose, old Mac from the hardware store, young families out for chocolate chip pancakes, older families treating parents to a day out from the nursing home. Even Lian’s parents were there, eating cheese omelets instead of Chinese from their own restaurant.
She had hoped to see Cliff there, taking his hat off as he walked in the door, looking around until he caught sight of her. It was just as well he hadn’t come—she wouldn’t have had time to do more than say hello. Still, she had to remind herself that his work didn’t really have weekends, that their lives didn’t revolve around each other.
By the time Robin got home after the lunch rush, she was ready to collapse. Augie joined her when she flopped on the couch, and she wished he had the ability to give her a foot rub. Jinx paced back and forth in his pen.
Eventually, she pulled herself to her feet and grabbed two leashes. “Okay, guys, just a short walk.”
Augie trotted happily beside her while she struggled to keep Jinx to a somewhat controlled walk. At least he was happily focused on outside smells and sights instead of cringing at her closeness. She stopped once in a while and just petted him, rewarding him with a treat each time.
Back home, she kept him on his leash with her. She fixed a sandwich, settled on the couch with a book, and smiled when Jinx finally relaxed enough to lay on the floor.
But thoughts of the shelter, the funding problems, her presentation and, yes, Cliff, kept inserting themselves into the storyline. Same with a TV show. The drama on the screen jumbled with images of shelter dogs yapping for their food, Cliff’s arm around her, a family meeting a dog, Cliff’s cowlick, the town council staring at her, a tender kiss from Cliff…
“This is ridiculous!” she muttered. Jinx looked up, then skittered away as she stood. She put him in his pen with a treat, gave Augie one too, then stuffed more in her pocket and went outside with the leash.
The dogs mobbed her as she closed the door. “Sit!” she said, making a hand motion.
Three of them s
at instantly, and she repeated the command to Rascal and Chance. When they obeyed, she gave each one a treat, then snapped the leash on Soldier’s collar. “Time for a workout, boy.”
She walked the shepherd down Washington and over to the park. He’d have lots of new smells to sniff there. They watched preschoolers play on the monkey bars—did they even call them monkey bars anymore?— and a toddler poured sand on his foot over and over. Robin smiled and walked Soldier on.
They worked on training—sit, down, stay and heel—and then she let him wander on a long leash and just be a dog. He inhaled squirrel scents, nosed around a mole trail, and marked more bushes than she could count. Missing a leg hardly slowed him down at all.
She glanced around the park and smiled to see Mr. Brown sitting at a picnic table with another old guy. She walked Soldier over and watched their checkers game.
The other guy made a final double jump, and Mr. Brown leaned on his elbows and sighed. “You got me that time, George.”
“You mean someone can actually beat you, Mr. Brown?” Robin asked.
George laughed. “On a regular basis, Missy, on a regular basis.”
“Oh, get on with you,” Mr. Brown said, then turned back to her. “How are you today? Out with that dog again?” He held his hand out to Soldier despite his gruff words.
“Have to keep up our obedience training,” Robin said. Soldier sniffed Mr. Brown, then moved toward him. She loosened the leash, and he sat regally next to the elderly man.
Mr. Brown looked at her quickly. “Don’t go thinking I’m going to adopt him, you hear? Because I don’t need a dog.”
“You need something, you old coot,” said the other man. “Got to keep these old bones moving or they’ll rot away.”
“Maybe I don’t care if I rot away,” Mr. Brown muttered.