Ruff Around the Edges

by Roxanne St Claire

Aidan grinned. “I kind of hoped you would. So did Beck.”

  “Then she wasn’t upset about the DD93?”

  Aidan’s smile faltered. “I haven’t told her.” At his father’s questioning look, he added, “Not sure I can, Dad. Ruff’s settling in with her, and she’s happy, and…and I care about her.”

  “I can tell,” he said.

  “A lot,” he added, suddenly wanting the very advice he’d been running from for several weeks.

  “I’m glad to hear that, Son.”

  “So, could you and, uh…” He glanced at the wall. “Mom work some of that black magic to keep her here?”

  He laughed. “No black magic, Aidan. Just love. And my advice would be to show her how you feel, and be honest. Including about that DD93.”

  “You don’t think I’d lose her if I took a hard line about Ruff?”

  “You’d lose her if you aren’t truthful. You both agreed that Ruff should go where Charlie wanted, not where you wanted.”

  He nodded, considering that.

  “If you care about her, you’ll be honest.”

  “I do care about her. A lot. A hell of a lot.” He gave a quiet laugh. “Feels so good to admit it.”

  “I know the feeling,” Dad said. “Remember it well.”

  “Do you?” Aidan leaned forward. “How’d you know? Why was one woman so different than any other?”

  Dad thought about that for a moment, dropping his elbows on his knees to let his chin rest on his knuckles, his inward gaze somewhere in the distant past. “I’d never met anyone so strong,” he finally said. “Fierce, you know? Nothing threw her. Nothing made her doubt or second-guess.”

  Aidan nodded, thinking about Beck’s strength, too. The thing he’d totally missed about her the minute they’d met. “Did you see that instantly?”

  “God, no.” He laughed. “I’m sure you’ve heard about our conspicuous blind-date meeting.”

  At every anniversary, they’d insisted on sharing that with their kids. “You were dating Mom’s friend, right?”

  “Katie Rogers,” he said. “Nice girl who made a strategic mistake trying to do a favor for a friend.”

  “Setting Mom up with your friend?” Even though he knew the story, it never really got old.

  Dad chuckled. “I remember walking into that bar where the four of us were supposed to meet and seeing Katie’s friend, Anne Harper, sipping on a white wine, wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and the godawfulest shit-kicking boots I’d ever seen. Katie was all dolled up in a dress, and all Mom could do was joke that she’d been working at a dog kennel all day and didn’t need to impress some guy she’d never met.” He grinned and pointed playfully at the picture. “She impressed the hell out of me, though. By the end of the night, I knew I had to end things with Katie and pursue the woman of my dreams.”

  “You knew that from one night when she was out with another guy?” Maybe the story had gotten romanticized over the years.

  “I knew I wanted to sleep with her.”

  Aidan choked. “Did I need to know that? She’s my mother.”

  He tipped his head. “Be real, Aidan. We’re human. You think we had six kids by praying for them?”

  “Uh…TMI.”

  “You asked how I knew. It starts with a pretty basic instinct that is, one hopes, mutual and all-consuming.”

  Perfect description, which reminded him that his basic instinct was at her apartment, waiting for him. “And then what?”

  “And then…well, I broke up with Katie ASAP. It took one call to your mother to know the attraction went both ways, and then…” Dad took a deep drink of his water, as if talking about those days parched his throat. “Then I realized I’d found a woman who made me the best possible version of me. When you find that, you keep that. No matter what it takes.”

  “But Beck’s leaving.”

  “Well”—Dad shifted on the sofa—“I suppose you could follow her. Or visit her in the Waterford private plane.”

  He waited a beat, then looked right into his father’s eyes. “I don’t want to leave, Dad. That’s the irony of what she’s done. She’s helped me to see that this is where I want to be, with my family and with my own place here. But…” He didn’t want to do that without her.

  Dad shook his head. “That’s advice I can’t give you, Son. You’ll have to figure it out. Or…” He shrugged and angled his head toward the fireplace. “Ask your mother.”

  Aidan laughed nervously. “I don’t generally talk to her.”

  “I do.”

  “You talk to Mom.” He did his level best to sound surprised.

  “All the time, Son. When I wake up, when I go to sleep, when I’m driving, when I’m alone in this big old house, which is rare, but does occasionally happen.”

  “Do you think that’s…healthy?”

  Dad raised both brows in question. “I thought you were the one who said we didn’t talk enough about her.”

  “I never said—”

  “You didn’t have to. I know my kids the same way, someday, you’ll know yours.”

  Aidan averted his gaze for a moment, feeling a quick splash of shame. “I guess we all grieve in our own ways,” he admitted.

  Dad leaned forward. “I’m glad you finally realize that. I know you think we’ve moved on, but—”

  “I don’t—”

  His father lifted a hand to stop the argument. “There’s something you should know about grief. It could help you, with your mother and Charlie.” He took a moment, sipped his water, and Aidan waited for the pearl of wisdom he knew from experience would probably be exactly what he needed. “It’s okay to grieve as long as you have hope.”

  “Hope?” What hope did Dad have? “Do you mean all this joking about you dating again? Is that what gives you hope?”

  With a dry snort, Dad looked skyward. “God, no. I would no sooner get involved with a woman than I’d…I’d…” He flicked his hands, as if he couldn’t even think of anything further from reality. “That’s not what gives me hope.”

  “Then what does?”

  He looked at Aidan a long time, then nodded slowly. “You already know.”

  But he didn’t, unless Dad meant Beck.

  “Waterford,” his father said simply. “Hope is this place. It’s the business. This isn’t a distraction from grief, Aidan. And it’s more than honoring a woman’s legacy or building her dream facility posthumously. Waterford Farm, the dogs, the rescues, the purpose, and the fact that we do it as a family…this is the source of all our hope. All our peace. All our understanding of why the good Lord only gave Annie to us for a short time.”

  Aidan tried to get his arms around that idea, ignoring the sting in his eyes. “What you’re saying is Waterford Farm is how Annie Kilcannon lives on, every day. You haven’t moved on. You’ve kept her alive.”

  He smiled slowly and nodded. “And that’s why I can talk to her. And you can, too.”

  Aidan inched forward, reaching out over the space that separated them to put his hand over his father’s. “I don’t have to, Dad. Because I have you.”

  From the look on his face, nothing could have made his father happier.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  “Everything is amazing. Perfect. Like, crazy good.” Beck put her feet up on the coffee table and tapped the speaker button so she could talk to Jackie with her hands free. “And I finally made it to the post office to get this package. Thanks for sending it.”

  “No worries, it was easy. Just be warned, hon. The letter was right on top, but there was more in the file and some of it looked super personal, so I stuck the whole Charlie folder in there. Sorry if you hit a few emotional land mines.”

  Beck sighed and fingered the thick envelope. “I can handle them. Heck, if I can go through Charlie’s bedroom with Aidan, I can do anything.”

  “You sound good, Beck.”

  She stretched, sore from a long day downstairs, but it was a good sore. She stroked Ruff’s head, who lay next to her, taking up wa
y more than his share of the sofa. “I feel good,” she admitted.

  “Pizza wars progressing?” Jackie asked with enough tease in her voice that Beck figured she knew it was more than pizza putting a smile on her face.

  “We’ve come to the conclusion that there is no secret ingredient, only Uncle Mike’s magic touch.”

  “Seriously?” Jackie laughed. “But he still won’t go in and make it?”

  “We have another week until the big contest. I’m hoping he rallies.”

  “And Aidan?”

  “Oh, Aidan.” She dropped her head back and let out a gushy, girlie sigh of pure delight. “Where do I start?”

  “The good stuff.”

  Relief washed through Beck. She was so ready to spill everything to her best friend. And maybe get clarity on the situation. She’d been with Aidan practically twenty-four seven for weeks now, which explained the delay in picking up Jackie’s package, which she’d kindly sent Priority, or why she’d forgotten to call until this evening. It was like Beck had lost focus on anything but Aidan.

  “Well, it’s all pretty good,” she said on a laugh, the understatement of pretty good being what was funny. “Actually, it’s ridiculous.”

  “Oh boy. Didn’t see that coming or anything.”

  “What do you mean? We met fighting over the dog.”

  “But he let you keep Ruff, so obviously he has a soft spot. Or maybe ‘soft’ isn’t the best way to describe it.”

  “Definitely not,” Beck agreed. “But he didn’t really have a choice. I have the letter.” She tapped the envelope Jackie had sent. “Happy to say I don’t need to wave it in his face now. We’ve all reached an understanding, right, Ruff?” The dog looked up, and his sweet eyes made her heart roll around with love. “Ruff actually likes me now, or at least he’s protective of me. Maybe he likes Uncle Mike better than both Aidan and me, but it’s all worked out.”

  “That’s good, because I don’t know much about the Army, but my guess is that form Charlie filled out would supersede the letter.”

  Beck frowned. “What form?”

  “The DD something? It’s in the file. I figured you’d seen it since it was with all his papers.”

  “Oh, I know what you mean,” she said. “I did request that as next of kin, but I forgot they were sending it. I got it right before I left and never really looked at it.”

  “Good thing, since you might not have fought for the dog as hard.”

  Beck sat up, lifting the envelope. “What are you talking about?”

  “Charlie’s instructions. About Ruff.”

  What? She instantly tore at the back of the thick cardboard envelope, peering inside. She recognized the file, and Jackie was right—it was stuffed with emotional land mines.

  “I don’t know about any instructions,” she said, spying Charlie’s infamous letter, but setting it aside to leaf through papers. She remembered getting the official looking form, but not reading it very closely. “What does it say?”

  “He wanted Aidan to have Ruff.”

  What? She found the form, and her gaze dropped to the section where there was a typed addendum. “In the event of my demise,” she started to read, but her voice faded out as she silently skimmed the words.

  …my dog, Ruff, is to be officially transported to Waterford Farm in Bitter Bark, North Carolina, by contacting the owner, Daniel Kilcannon, who will arrange transport. The dog is to be kept there until which time Major Aidan Kilcannon returns home, when he will become Ruff’s rightful owner.

  “Oh my God,” she murmured. “Charlie really did want him to have Ruff.”

  “What are you going to do?” Jackie asked.

  “I don’t know.” She pressed her hand on the paper, a signed original. Charlie had touched this very paper. He’d made this decision. And it was dated… She grabbed the letter she’d set aside. “Two days after he wrote to me?” Her voice rose in shock. “What the hell, Charlie?”

  “Aidan’s is more recent.”

  But Beck shook her head at Jackie’s logic this time. “Two days apart? He had to know what he was doing.”

  Jackie laughed softly. “Maybe he’s the matchmaker of this latest romance.”

  “No, he would never guess this could happen. He wanted to cover his bases, I think. Maybe the more people in the States who had a claim on the dog, the better chances of getting him shipped here. That’s the only possible explanation.”

  “Where’s Aidan? Are you going to tell him?”

  “He’s home tonight. He spent the whole day away on a plane-hunting trip with his brother and dad. He’s going to start a rescue dog transport program for them, and he’s so happy about it, but…” She ran her fingers over Charlie’s signature again. “I don’t know how he’s going to react to this. Hell, for all I know, he’ll take Ruff back.”

  “Which would make him kind of an asshole. Just sayin’.”

  “But we agreed from day one that all we wanted to do with Ruff is honor Charlie’s requests. Who knew my brother sent two of them? Although, this one is awfully official.” She glanced at the clock and made a quick decision. “I’m going to go talk to him about this. Show this to him in person. I don’t want to wait until tomorrow.”

  “Okay, but Beck, I’m not done with news. I have some.”

  Something in Jackie’s voice told her it wasn’t good news. “What’s wrong? Problems with the business? I know we’re not making any money right now, but…”

  “We’re not,” she said. “And that’s why I accepted a showcase opportunity in Seattle.”

  “Seattle?” Beck sat straight up, a mix of elation and dejection punching her on both sides. “A showcase? What is that? Other than temporary, I hope.”

  “It’s actually a permanent place in a studio-slash-exhibit-house,” she said. “It would put my work on display and for sale to a very wealthy, very artsy community. And I’d get huge private commissions.”

  “Oh my God, that’s amazing, Jackie. That’s what you’ve always wanted. That’s…so far away.” She grunted in physical pain. “I’ll miss you so much, but I’m so incredibly happy for you.”

  “Thanks. I’m stoked.” She could hear the joy in her friend’s voice. “But who knows if you’re even coming back? You can move Baby Face to North Carolina, you know.”

  Beck sighed, mostly because it wasn’t the first time in the last few weeks that the thought had crossed her mind. “You do remember that I spent every dime and ounce of energy and drop of talent I had trying to get out of here, right?”

  “Different life, Beck. Different time. Different landscape.”

  Oh, that voice of reason. It could be so…reasonable. “But what if I take that risk and something changes? I mean, we’re basking in the glow of toe-curling, sheet-soaking, mind-blowing—”

  “I get the point, Beck. It’s good sex.”

  She laughed. “But that might be all it is. That’s kind of what I asked for—to keep it casual. And then these…these visions of ‘more’ dance in my head. And I…” She swallowed and closed her eyes. “I don’t want to lose again. And don’t tell me that’s the risk you take when you love another human being, because it could be me, you know. I could be this…this curse on people.”

  “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response. You know what you should do? Get over to Aidan’s house, show him that form, and see what he’s made of. If he wants you to keep the dog, and only if he does, tell him your only business associate is leaving and your business is portable. And then ask him, ‘Do you want me to stay?’ You’ll be able to tell by the look in his eyes if he’s forever or not.”

  “After a month? That doesn’t sound very reasonable.”

  “Who says love is reasonable? Why do you think it avoids me like the plague?”

  Beck laughed. “You are a walking contradiction, Jacqueline Saunders. Logical and artistic. How does that happen?”

  “I don’t know, but this isn’t about me. Are you going to follow my advice?”


  She dropped her head back and tunneled her fingers into Ruff’s neck, scratching him. “Yeah. I am.”

  And because of that, Beck knew this wouldn’t be a casual visit. Even as she said goodbye to Jackie and folded up the form to slide it into her purse, her whole body braced for the fact that this wasn’t merely a trip to Aidan’s house to share this new twist in their lives.

  It was do-or-die time. As much as she wanted them to be, she and Aidan weren’t casual. Now she had to find out exactly what they were.

  * * *

  Aidan looked up from the laptop on the kitchen counter when a car pulled into the driveway. Leaning over, he peered out the window and muttered a soft, “Yes,” at the sight of Beck’s car.

  He’d been debating whether to break their pact not to get together tonight so they could focus on something other than each other.

  He’d focused on planes all day. That was enough attention on anything that wasn’t her.

  Opening the door before she even reached it, he realized they’d never spent the night at this house yet. They always stayed in her apartment, which made it easy to walk Ruff in the square and roll into the kitchen in the morning.

  Stepping outside into a warm, dry evening, he walked barefoot to the car and opened the door when she turned off the ignition.

  “And here I thought finding that 172 Skyhawk for a bargain-basement price was the highlight of my day.” He leaned over before she could get out, kissing her right on the mouth. “Then my girl shows up with…” He frowned into the backseat. “Where’s Ruff?”

  She inched back with a sigh. “I left him at home for a few hours. He was dead tired after a long walk and…” She reached for her bag as if stalling for time. “Can I come in?”

  “Dumb question. Of course. I was about to make something to eat. You hungry?”

  Stepping out of the car, she shook her head. “No, I’m not. I want to talk to you.”

  He made a face. “Why don’t I like the sound of that?”

  “You might like it very much,” she said, using her hopeful voice that he liked so much. “I have some exciting and wonderful news for you.”

  “You found the secret ingredient?”