by Gina Wilkins
After stashing the window washing supplies where Casey had left them and making two trips inside to put away the things she’d brought out, she settled in a rocker again with a cup of hot tea. She needed to rest. She’d changed into dry clothes and donned a light jacket because the temperatures were falling as the sun set.
It would be dark within half an hour, she mused, looking at the purpling sky. It got dark so much earlier as winter approached. As he watched the light fade, her mood darkened as well. The mild euphoria left over from a day of productive hard work and playing with the dog leeched into a gloominess that matched the shadows creeping over the mountaintops toward the cabin.
As if sensing the change, Buddy rested his head on her knee and gazed sympathetically up at her. She hadn’t even realized he’d come up onto the deck. She set her hand on his head, ruffling his soft, but still slightly matted ears.
Maybe there was something to the adage that pet owners were less prone to stress and depression, because having him there did make her feel a little better. Not that she intended to keep him, of course. It was just nice to have his company for now. Sort of like Casey, she thought with an attempt at humor that didn’t particularly amuse her.
It must have been the thought of Casey’s name that conjured him. “Wow,” he said from where he stood at the bottom of the deck steps. “Where’d you get that handsome dog?”
Both Natalie and Buddy turned to look at him. Natalie, for one, certainly appreciated the view. Casey’s hair was wind-tousled around his face and his bright eyes glittered in the sensor-activated security lighting that had just come on around the cabin. He wore an open-throated white shirt beneath his denim jacket, and dark, bootcut jeans with brown-and-tan, bowling-styled shoes. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a celebrity magazine, she thought with a slight sigh. One of those “most beautiful people” issues.
“Hi, Casey,” she said, feeling her mood lighten even more.
Casey had been standing there for several minutes before he’d made his presence known. He suspected the dog had known he was there, but Buddy seemed totally focused on being petted by Natalie. Casey couldn’t blame him for that.“You gave him a bath?” he asked, amazed by how clean and soft the dog’s formerly filthy coat looked now.
“Yes. I was washing windows and he loved playing in the water coming from the hose. One thing led to another, and now he’s clean. He still needs to be brushed, but I didn’t have anything to brush him with.”
“I’ll bring a dog brush tomorrow.” Slowly climbing the stairs, he paused to glance at the shiny windows that now reflected the security lighting. “You washed the windows?”
“Yes. I had nothing else to do and it was such a nice day.”
“You went up on that ladder?”
“Well, most of the way up. The telescoping squeegee thing helped me reach the really high parts.”
He scowled, unable to block a mental image of her falling off the ladder and then lying hurt and alone for who knew how long. “That was awfully risky. What if you’d fallen?”
She shrugged. “I’d have sent Buddy for help, I guess. He’s got Lassie’s colors—maybe there’s some collie mixed into his lineage.”
Though he was still too unsettled by the thought to find much humor in her quip, he tried to smile anyway as he took a seat in the rocker beside hers. He doubted that she would appreciate him telling her that she shouldn’t have been climbing ladders on her own, even though he still didn’t think she should have taken the risk.
“I think it’s safe to say there are several different breeds involved here,” he said as Buddy walked over to greet him. He ruffled the dog’s ears, appreciating the softness of the newly washed hair. “You sure look better, Buddy. Smell a lot better, too.”
The dog made a low sound as if in agreement, then moved back to sit at Natalie’s feet.
“Well, we know where his loyalties lie.”
She shook her head in bemusement. “I don’t know why. You’re the one who started feeding him and talking to him.”
“He has very discerning tastes.”
“Yes, of course,” she agreed drily. “I wasn’t expecting you to drop by. I thought you said you were going to call.”
“I was. But I wanted to see you.”
She studied his face in the dim, artificial light. “Any particular reason?”
“Maybe I’m like Buddy,” he replied lightly. “Drawn to you despite myself.”
“I—um—how was your outing with Molly and Olivia?”
He laughed at her awkward transition, but went along for the moment to give her a chance to process what he’d said. “Actually it was Molly, Olivia and Riley.”
“Riley?”
“Olivia’s ‘bestest friend’ from preschool. Riley’s a blue- eyed blond with a melting smile and an endless supply of energy. Combined with our own little redheaded dynamo, the activity level was very high today.”
“Sounds like you and Molly had your hands full.”
“Absolutely. The kids wanted to ride every ride in the kiddie part of the park at least twice, and begged to go on some of the rides for adults, even though they were too small to be admitted. They were absolutely fearless.”
“Did you enjoy the day?”
“It was pleasant,” he conceded. “I had fun watching the kids play. I’d like to go back with an adult sometime and see some of the music shows and craft demonstrations. The kids weren’t particularly interested in that part of the park.”
“I wouldn’t really expect them to be at their age.”
“No. By the way,” he said, reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket, “I brought you something.”
“You did?”
He nodded and tossed a small cellophane packet into her lap. “Taffy,” he said. “They make it at the park. It’s really good.”
She smiled. “I love taffy. Thank you.”
“I wanted to bring you a cotton candy cone, but it wouldn’t fit in my pocket.”
Smiling, she set the candy on the table between them. “Have you eaten?”
“We had an early dinner with the kids. Corn dogs and fries. Very healthy.”
Her hesitation was barely noticeable before she asked, “I was just going to have a cup of herbal tea. Would you like to join me?”
“Yes,” he said immediately. “I would. Thanks.”
If she was surprised by his alacrity, she didn’t let it show. She merely stood and moved toward the door.
Buddy followed right at her heels.
She stopped at the door, looking down at the dog. “Were you planning to go inside?”
Buddy wagged his tail.
Natalie looked at Casey, who shrugged as he stood just behind her and the dog. “Your call.”
“I don’t suppose he’s housebroken.”
“He could be. Now that we’ve gained his trust, he certainly acts like he’s been a pet.”
“And if he’s not housebroken?”
“Then he’s likely to act like a typical male dog and pee on everything in sight to mark his new territory.”
“Great,” she said with a sigh.
Buddy whined.
She melted, much to Casey’s amusement. “Okay,” she said to the dog, “you can come in. But I expect you to behave like a gentleman, understand?”
Buddy wagged his tail.
“I’ll probably end up scrubbing the floors and the furniture,” she muttered, opening the door into the kitchen. Buddy trotted in after her as if he’d been living there for years. Casey wasn’t far behind.
Buddy sniffed around the living room and kitchen while Casey and Natalie watched, holding their breaths. And then, his exploration finished, Buddy curled up on a rug in front of the fireplace and put his head down on his paws. So far, he’d been a perfect guest. Casey hoped he remained that way.
“Would you like me to start a fire?” he called out to Natalie. “It would knock the chill off in here.”
“That sounds nice,” s
he answered from the kitchen.
A cubbyhole built into the bricks at the side of the fireplace held a dozen small fire logs. A basket beside the wrought-iron fire tools was filled with kindling. Casey fumbled around a bit, but had a small fire burning nicely by the time Natalie had the tea ready. Buddy gave a long sigh as the warmth penetrated to where he lay on the hearth rug.
“Better than the ground in the woods, hey, pal?” Casey murmured, giving the soft head a pat before rising.
Carrying the two mugs, Natalie joined him on the couch with a smile that made his heart trip over a couple of beats. Apparently she had forgiven him for the way they had parted the night before. It had taken him most of the restless night to forgive himself.
They sat on the couch, sipping tea and watching the flames while the dog dozed on the rug.“Would you like to turn on the TV?” Natalie asked after several long, quiet minutes had passed.
“Not really.” He was perfectly content to look at her and enjoy the peacefulness of the evening.
She nodded as if in approval of his choice. “Buddy looks settled in, doesn’t he?”
“He does. I’m sure he’s glad to be out of the cold.”
“I put bowls of food and water in the laundry room for him.”
“Are you going to let him stay inside tonight?”
She shrugged sheepishly. “I can’t kick him back out in the cold. So far he’s been well-behaved.”
“Maybe he just hasn’t had to relieve himself yet.”
“Maybe,” she admitted. “I guess he could sleep in the laundry room.”
“Not sure how he would like being penned up in a little room after being free to roam.”
“There is that,” she admitted. “I suppose I could always put some blankets out on deck for him if he’d rather be outside.”
Casey glanced at the blissfully content-looking dog and smiled.
Following his gaze, she said, “I realized today that we should probably contact the shelters, maybe the local newspaper, and see if anyone is missing a pet. It could be that he just got lost rather than abandoned. He might already have a home somewhere.”
“That’s possible. He’s a nice dog. Handsome, too, now that he’s clean.”
“Yes, he’s very sweet.”
Setting down his cup of tea, Casey turned on the couch to face her. “Sounds as though you’re getting attached.”
She shook her head. “I’m not in a position to adopt a pet, no matter how sweet. I don’t even know where I’ll be living next month. It’s best if I avoid any attachments for now.”
Was there another message not so subtly hidden in her remarks? Probably, he answered himself. Natalie was making it very clear that she wasn’t looking for commitment. Even when she had invited him in last night, she’d implied that she wasn’t suggesting anything more than a night of fun.
He’d talked himself out of accepting last night because of a sudden concern that before they went any further with their relationship, temporary though it might be, they needed to talk. He should tell her what he really did for a living, and that he knew she too was an attorney.
Since then, he’d had second thoughts. She was, after all, the one who’d established the no-questions policy. Even if she hadn’t actually put it in so many words, she’d managed to get the message across. Whatever made her leave her firm in Nash ville, she didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t even seem to want to think about it, since she was working so hard staying busy with other things.
“I know the feeling,” he sympathized. “I’m not looking for any commitments right now, either. Just not the right time. For a pet,” he added.
She looked at him through her lashes, then asked, “So you think we’ll be able to find a home for him?”
“I’m sure we will. But there’s no hurry, is there? First we have to see if anyone’s reported him missing. And he’s fine here in the meantime.”
“He’s welcome here, I guess,” she said, keeping her tone nonchalant. “Though I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be staying.”
“When you need to leave, we’ll make other arrangements.”
“Okay. Fine.” She looked at the dog again, her expression hard to read.
“The fire’s going out,” she murmured after a moment.
He glanced that way. “Do you want me to throw on another log?”
“No, it’s fine. It’s not really all that cold tonight. But I enjoyed watching the fire.”
“I think Buddy liked it, too.”
She smiled. “It certainly looks that way.”
Perhaps sensing they were talking about him, Buddy raised his head, yawned, then stood and moved toward the sliding glass door. He paused there and looked over his shoulder at them with a brief bark.
“I believe he’s saying he wants to go out,” Casey commented, amused.
Natalie was already on her feet. She opened the door and Buddy trotted outside and down the deck steps.
“Do you think he’ll come back in?” she asked Casey, who’d walked up behind her to see what the dog was going to do. “Or do you think he’ll spend the night out in the woods again?”
“I don’t know.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her face, studying her grave expression. “Don’t worry so much about it, Natalie. He’s pretty good at taking care of himself.”
“I know. I just, um, hate for him to get all dirty again,” she prevaricated.
“I see.”
She glanced up at him. “I know he’ll be okay. And he’ll probably be back tomorrow for more food.”
He toyed with the ends of her hair around her face. “Very likely.”
Her gaze locking with his, she bit her lower lip.
He touched her mouth with one finger, teasing her lips apart. “It would be a shame to leave marks here,” he murmured, tracing her lower lip with his fingertip.
Her breath was warm and moist against his skin. A faint flush tinged her fair cheeks. He felt his own pulse beating in his temples as his body reacted to the nearness of hers. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, but he couldn’t think of a way to do so without sounding trite or clichéd. He hoped she could see the sentiment in his eyes as he lowered his mouth toward hers.
A scratching on the door caught their attention just as their lips touched. A sharp bark followed the scratching, and both Natalie and Casey turned toward the door.
Buddy stood on his hind legs, his front paws propped on the glass as he barked at them again.
Casey glanced at Natalie with a faint smile. “I think you have your answer about where he wants to spend the night. And whether he’s housebroken. That dog’s been a house pet more recently than we thought.”
She was already opening the door to let the dog in. “Don’t think you’re getting into my bed tonight,” she said, and for a moment Casey blinked, then smiled sheepishly when he realized she was talking to the dog.
As for whether he, himself, would be getting into her bed—that remained to be seen.
Chapter Nine
N atalie found an old cotton blanket in the back of the linen closet and crumpled it into an inviting-looking pile in the laundry room beside the food and water bowls. Maybe Buddy would be content to sleep in there if she left the door open, though at the moment he was back on the hearth rug again, snoring gently.
Casey had returned to the couch. Like the dog, he seemed in no hurry to leave.She could send him on his way. All it would take was a word from her and he would go. But she knew, as well, that one word was all it would take to convince him to stay. Whatever reservations he’d had last night seemed to be gone.
She took a moment to consider whether she had changed her own mind since last night. She pictured herself sending him away, closing the door behind him, spending another night thinking about him—or trying not to. And then she imagined what it might be like if he stayed.
The latter scenario was much more appealing.
“I made a bed for him, though it seems he prefers to
stay right where he is,” she said, sitting on the couch beside Casey.
“He does look content, doesn’t he?”
“He must have just gotten lost. Who would have abandoned such a nice dog?”
“You’d be surprised at the stupid reasons I’ve heard. My mom’s on the board of directors for an animal protection society in Dallas. She’s become sort of a crusader during the past few years. While Buddy might have just wandered off and gotten lost, it’s just as possible that he simply got bigger than his owners expected. He’s a largish dog for an inside pet. I couldn’t even keep him at my place in Dallas. Pets there have to be under twenty-five pounds, and Buddy’s probably more like forty. Maybe someone had to move and didn’t want to bother taking him along. Or got tired of feeding him and walking him and paying for his care…there are a lot of people who should never be trusted with animals.”
It sounded as though he’d listened to more than a few speeches from his animal-activist mother.
“I guess we’ll find out in the next few days if anyone’s been looking for him.”
“Maybe we will.”
Something about the way Casey was looking at her told her he’d lost interest in talking about the dog for now. For that matter, so had she.
He reached out to toy with the ends of her hair, a habit he seemed to be getting into. Oddly enough, she rather liked it.
“I believe we were interrupted earlier,” he murmured.
She smiled and leaned closer to him. “I think I remember where we left off.”
“I was hoping you would.”
A moment later she was in his arms.
For once, Natalie was entirely willing to just give herself up to the moment. She had been careful and sensible and practical and deliberate all her life—and look where it had gotten her. She was sure she would return to her old ways soon enough, but she was basically on vacation now. What else were vacations for, if not to get away from the stress of real life?