by Nancy Warren
After fifteen minutes of walking she heard scuffling in the undergrowth. Her heart sped up.
“Sadie?”
More scuffling.
“Sadie?” she yelled louder. “Cupid?”
Nothing.
She peered into the dark bushes but didn’t dare plunge in thinking she might be the one to bash into a bear or a cougar.
She walked on, thinking if she was this scared how much more terrifying must the dark path be for a little girl.
Every minute or two she’d stop and yell their names knowing that the chances they’d hear her were slim over the noise of the river.
She heard more rustling. Flipped on her flashlight and there – the most beautiful sight -- was Cupid bounding toward her. He was so excited his entire body squirmed and he barked, howled and whined all at once.
“Cupid,” she cried bending to pet him. “Where’s Sadie.”
He barked, several loud yaps, then ran into the bush.
“Sadie!” she yelled. “Sadie.”
Cupid ran back, bumped her legs, barked and ran back to where he’d just come from.
She followed the dog, letting the flashlight beam guide her. There was no path but a tangle of ferns and roots that would knock her to the ground if she wasn’t careful.
“Sadie are you here? It’s Erin.”
Cupid barked and she followed the sound.
She saw the coat first. Sadie’s coat. Blue with hearts all over it. She didn’t care about roots or ferns or bears, she ran.
“Sadie!” she cried.
When she reached the child she found Sadie sitting behind a fallen tree. Her face was tear-streaked but she was awake and alert.
“Oh, Sadie,” She ran forward and took the child in her arms. “Baby, I was so worried about you.”
“I was coming to find you, but I heard a noise and I got scared. Then I came in here and fell down.” She sniffed. “I skinned my knee.”
“Oh, honey. Let me call your Dad. He’ll be right here.”
“You’ll stay with me till he gets here?” the scared little voice asked.
“Of course, I will. I’m not leaving you.”
Her fingers were trembling as she called Jared from her cell. “Thank God,” he said when she told him Sadie was safe and unhurt. “Where are you?” She tried to describe where she was on the trail but she’d never really paid all that much attention to landmarks.
“Get back to the main trail and put your flashlight on. I’ll find you.”
She got Sadie to her feet and, while Cupid stuck by their side, she helped the still-sniffling child to the main path, facing the flash light beam toward where Jared would be coming from. Then she hugged Sadie tight. “I was so scared when your Dad called me.”
“I was scared too. I didn’t know it would get dark.”
“Oh, honey. Why did you go out by yourself?”
“Because my Dad is very sad. And Grandma said you’d be a good stepmother, but Dad said no, you said you wouldn’t marry him. So I came to tell you that I’ll be good. I’ll do what you tell me and keep my room neat and feed Cupid.”
Erin felt tears sting her eyes. “Sadie,” she said, sinking her knees in the cold, wet path so she could be at eye-level with the child, “You are a wonderful, wonderful little girl. Anyone would be lucky to have you for a step daughter.”
“Sadie!” She heard Jared’s yell before he came sprinting around the bend.
He was so out of breath when he got to them that he could only fall to his knees and pull Sadie into his arms. Cupid watched for a minute before pushing his nose under Jared’s arm so he could be included in the hug. Somehow, Jared managed to pull Erin in too so they clung there, three humans and the world’s best dog.
“Oh, honey,” he said at last. “You gave me such a scare.”
“I’m sorry. I gave me such a scare too.”
Over her head Erin’s and Jared’s eyes met and they smiled in relief and a mixture of other emotions like love and gratitude. When they got to their feet, Sadie insisted on walking in the middle of the two of them holding onto both their hands. Cupid, unlike his usual self, didn’t dart off into the bushes. He stayed right with them.
CHAPTER NINE
When they got back to Jared’s house she offered to make hot chocolate while Jared first called his mother to tell her Sadie was safe, then talked to his daughter. The kitchen smelled of freshly-baked peanut butter cookies and when the hot chocolates were ready she put cookies on a plate and carried the snack on a big wooden tray she found.
When she got into the den she found Sadie snuggled up against her father. The dog curled up at their feet.
“Sadie has something she wants to say to you.”
The little girl sniffed. “I’m sorry I frightened you,” she said in a small voice.
Erin set the hot chocolate down on the table in front of the couch and went to sit beside her young friend. “I am going to give you my phone number and you can call me anytime you want to. Okay? If you want to come and visit me,” she glanced up at Jared, “and it’s okay with your dad, then I will come and get you. Anytime.”
Sadie nodded. Her curls bounced against her cheeks and Erin couldn’t stop herself from stroking the soft hair. “Okay. Here’s your hot chocolate. And you better have an extra cookie after that adventure.”
“I took two in my pocket when I went out,” she said, accepting the small mug Erin handed her. “But I gave one to Cupid.”
“Well, I think you can have another,” she said, offering the plate.
The three of them sat there, talking a little, mostly not, simply content to be together.
“I think we’d better get that pizza,” Jared said after a while.
It was an evening like lots she’d spent at Jared’s place. Pizza and the movie Babe because it featured a dog a lot like Cupid.
Sadie sat between the two of them, a little hot chocolate moustache on her mouth, the empty mug on the table, curled against her father.
It wasn’t long before the ordeal caught up with her and she was asleep.
“Poor kid,” Erin said. “That was quite an adventure.” She paused. “Did she tell you why she went out?”
He nodded. Looking at her. Not saying anything. She felt such love for both of them that she longed to reach out. Instead she took a deep breath.
“Jared. There’s something you need to know.”
“Okay.”
She pressed her lips together and then knew the secret had to come out so he could understand why she’d turned him down. “I can’t have children.” There it was. Said. Out in the open. The few words that described her personal tragedy.
“But you were pregnant,” he said, sounding confused.
“Yes. I was. And after I lost the baby something got messed up. The doctor said I’d never have children. I was so crazy with grief I don’t even remember the details.”
“But—Is that why?” He shook his head as though a fly were buzzing around it. “That can’t be why you won’t marry me.”
“Why I can’t marry you?” She looked up and saw such sympathy she wanted to cry. “Of course it is. You are a wonderful father. You should have more kids. Sadie should have brothers and sisters.”
“Oh, Erin. Where do you get this stuff? Families are what we make them. Sure, I’d love to have more kids, but the world has plenty of people in it. Maybe I’m only meant to have one. That’s okay.”
She wanted so badly to believe him. Wanted so badly to share his child with him.
He reached out, over his sleeping child and took one of her hands in his. “I love you. If you love me too and think you can take us on, me, Sadie and Cupid, here,” They both glanced down. At the sound of his name, Cupid had started wagging his tail and it thumped gently against the table where he’d wedged himself in as close as he could get to his people. “I think we’d have a fine family.”
And something that had been frozen deep inside her began to thaw.
“Let
me think about this. Maybe we should both think carefully before we do anything hasty. It’s getting late. I should go.” She tried to remember what she’d done with her car keys then realized she didn’t have them, of course. She’d walked here.
“I wish I could drive you,” he said, “but I can’t. Take my truck. I’ll walk over and get it tomorrow.”
She nodded. The thought of seeing him tomorrow, after so many days of loneliness, was something to look forward to.
She stood and on her way out leaned forward to kiss Jared goodbye. When their lips met she felt the electricity go through her right to her toes. Felt the connection they’d formed and the love he’d sworn.
“Have faith in me,” he said, “In us.”
CHAPTER TEN
Sun streamed in the window of Erin’s cottage and, as so often happened when the sun shone after a period of gray skies, rain and general gloom, her mood brightened along with it. Okay, probably the sun couldn’t take all the credit. Yesterday’s adventure, helping find Sadie, seeing Jared again and forcing herself to tell him her secret had lightened the load she carried.
She’d kept the sorrow to herself for so long it was amazing how much better she felt for sharing. When she thought about yesterday she realized that she and Jared had acted as a team, instinctively. She’d acted, she realized, like a mother.
In the same way Cupid’s instincts had led the dog to stay with Sadie, to protect her and to alert Erin that the child was nearby.
She felt both nervous and hopeful when she heard the knock on her door. Jared had declined her offer to drive his truck back to him this morning. He and Cupid were walking over, he’d told her. So, she had coffee brewing, her hair was freshly-brushed and she’d dressed with care in her favorite jeans and a white shirt.
When she opened the door her heart jumped as eagerly as the dog who leapt in the air at the sight of her. Even as she laughed at the puppy’s antics, it was Jared who made her heart skip a beat. He had that look. The serious, sexy, gorgeous look that had first caught her attention. And her heart.
“Hi,” she said, feeling suddenly breathless.
“Hi yourself,” and then he pulled her to him and kissed her long and thoroughly until the deep-throated whine of Cupid brought them to their senses.
“Come in,” she said, laughing. Man and dog both obeyed her invitation with flattering speed. Cupid running straight to the kitchen to see if anything interesting had fallen to the floor and Jared to kiss her again.
“What’s that?” she asked when she pulled back long enough to notice he was carrying a large brown envelope.
“That is for you.”
She felt her brow crease as she sat in her favorite chair. She couldn’t imagine what could be in the envelope. There was no writing on the outside. It was fairly thick as though a long document was in it like a sales proposal or a will.
She opened the flap and pulled out a sheaf of print-outs from a color printer. As she flipped through the pages she realized they were photos and descriptions of children. She recognized the name of the organization, a world-wide charity looking for people to sponsor children in poverty around the world. She’d seen similar pictures on TV and in magazines.
He’d printed off half a dozen children’s photos from the organization’s website, each with a short biography and a heart-breakingly lovable face.
“Oh, Jared,” she said.
“You can pick one or all six or choose different kids. It doesn’t matter. I wanted you to know I was serious last night. There are kids all over the world who could use our help. We don’t have to give birth to them to give them love and support.”
In that moment she felt such love for this man she could hardly contain it. “What beautiful children.”
“I did a lot of reading last night after Sadie was in bed. The money we’d send could really make a difference in these kids’ lives. We’d get progress reports on how they’re doing, what’s happening in the village. It would be educational for Sadie and one day maybe we could go visit our kids. Or we can volunteer to help children in our own community. There is so much we can do.”
“You’re sure you wouldn’t mind only having Sadie?”
“If I can have you and Sadie in my life, I would be a lucky, lucky man.” When she looked at him she could see he meant every word.
“How did I ever find you?” she asked, leaning forward to take his hand because she simply had to touch him. “And how did I almost lose you?”
Cupid must have heard the emotion in her tone for he ceased sniffing every corner of the cottage to trot over. He put his head on her knee, as he did sometimes, and gazed up at her with those big, brown eyes that were puppy-silly and deeply wise.
“You didn’t lose me,” Jared promised her as she patted the dog’s head. “And I plan to be with you until the end of our lives.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the familiar jeweler’s box.
“For the second time, will you—”
“Wait!” she interrupted. “This is a moment we’re going to describe to our grandchildren. You have to do it properly.”
He looked at the ring and then at her. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” She looked at him, and Cupid turned his head to regard him until, with a labored sigh, he dropped to one knee and flipped open the box.
“For the third time. Erin, will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice husky with emotion. “Yes.” He took her left hand, pushed the perfect ring onto her finger and then, when she leaned forward to kiss him, pulled her so she tumbled toward him, laughing and falling, knowing he’d catch her.
After Jared and she had kissed deeply, Cupid added his congratulations, licking their faces, from one to the other as they laughed.
“This isn’t right,” she suddenly said.
Jared groaned. “Now what? I have to hire a Mariachi band and serenade you under your window?”
She laughed. “Maybe tomorrow night. For now, we have to go tell Sadie the good news.”
“That she’s getting her own evil stepmother?”
“We’re rewriting our own fairy tale. Best Stepmother Ever!”
“Let’s go home,” he said. “Come on, Cupid. Lead the way.”
The End
“A Dog Named Cupid” is the second installment of the “A Romance in Four Seasons” series. Please enjoy a teaser of the first installment:
Border Collie Christmas
It was bad enough that December was the shortest, darkest month, Erin Nash thought as she stared out the window, but at least back home in Vermont it would be snowing and pretty. Out here in the Pacific Northwest the late December sky seemed to cry big plopping tears all day and all night as though lamenting it had no snow to offer.
Rubbing her hands up and down her arms she wondered, not for the first time, what she was doing here in Kaslo, Washington, a town that had boomed at the turn of the century as a logging hub, but now limped along catering to tourists, back-to-the-landers and outdoor types. The cottage she was renting had seemed perfect when she’d viewed it online: small, rustic, miles from other humans. She’d wanted solitude for this first Christmas after everything changed.
Solitude she had.
She simply hadn’t realized her temporary home would be quite so wet.
Letting the ugly plaid curtain fall back into place, she turned and put another chunk of wood in the river rock fireplace. The log hissed and spat like an angry cat.
Even the wood was damp.
However, the rent was cheap, nobody was asking her fifty times a day if she was all right, and she had all the peace and quiet she wanted to work.
At least she had her work. It seemed to Erin that the more her life had become crazy, the more inspired her jewelry designs. Her pieces sold in high-end jewelry boutiques and art museum gift shops around the world. Her pieces had been profiled in magazines from Vogue and Elle to Nylon and Zink. Clothing designers often contacted her for jewelry to com
plement their latest collections. Rock stars asked her to design specific pieces and her work had appeared on the necks, ears and fingers of several TV stars. For some reason, Erin Nash Design was especially popular with television vampires and soon-to-be vampires. Erin had no idea why her jewelry had such appeal for the undead but she wasn’t complaining.
As she resettled herself at the small dining table-cum-work bench, smoothing the plastic sheeting she’d put in place to protect the table, she picked up the scissors and a fan of ruby red polymer plastic. She glanced at the pencil sketch taped to the wall beside her and began cutting freehand the design she’d sketched on the plane out here. As a nervous flyer, she often found immersing herself in her work helped calm her nerves and pass the time.
Technopop music played softly on her iPod, low enough that she could still hear the shush and chatter of the fire.
A new sound intruded. Like crying.
At first she assumed the piteous sound was the wind. But no. When she stopped and focused she realized the sad little cries, like the mewling of a baby, were coming from outside her door.
A glance at the old ship’s clock on the hand-hewn mantel showed ten o’clock. How could a baby be outside her door at ten o’clock at night?
Her hand slipped instinctively to her belly. Please, God, let her not be cracking up completely.
The cries came again, but this time more insistent. Definitely not imaginary.
She jumped up, raced to the door and opened it.
She glanced down and almost slammed the door again, thinking the bedraggled black and white creature was a skunk.
Black and white and wet all over the small animal wore the remains of a red bow around his neck, all soggy and sagging from the rain and whatever journey he’d taken to get here. Nobody’d be crazy enough to give a baby skunk as a gift. Not even out here. When she looked closer, the creature was a forlorn puppy.
“Why, you’re just a baby,” she said. “Wherever did you come from?”