Pet Friendly

by Sue Pethick

  She heard scuffling, then a thump! against the door. Emma jumped out of bed and grabbed her robe.

  “Who’s there?”

  She approached the door cautiously and put her eye to the peephole. Nothing. Maybe it was the wind after all.

  Thump!

  Emma screamed and fell back, her heart pounding. Whatever was out there had jiggled the handle! She searched the room for something to use as a weapon.

  “You’d better get out of here,” she yelled, grabbing a Merriam-Webster dictionary and raising it to shoulder height. “I’ve got a gun!”

  Well, the word “gun,” anyway.

  There was more scuffling outside and then Emma heard the unmistakable whimper of a small dog. She gasped.

  “Archie?”

  She dropped the dictionary and opened her door. A dirty black nose and a face full of matted fur peered up at her.

  “Oh, my gosh, it is you!”

  Emma swung the door wide and Archie limped in. He was wet and shivering and his coat was full of burrs. She closed the door and grabbed a dish towel.

  “You poor guy,” she said, patting him down gently. “Let’s warm you up and get you some food. First things first, though. Let me take a look at that paw.”

  Emma turned on a light and put Archie in her lap so she could get a better look. His leg felt solid enough, but the fur was matted and mud-covered. Something had forced its way between his toes, but it was hard for her to tell what it was. Judging by the way he’d hobbled through the door, though, she was sure he couldn’t get it out by himself.

  She hesitated. Emma and Archie were strangers to each other. What if she tried to pull it out and hurt him? She wanted to help, but she didn’t feel like being bitten.

  “I don’t know, fella,” she said. “Can I trust you?”

  Archie turned and looked at her a long moment, his bright eyes taking her measure. Then he leaned forward and gave her free hand a lick. Go on, he seemed to be saying. I can stand it if you can.

  Emma nodded.

  “All right, then,” she said. “I’ll try to make it quick.”

  Holding his leg firmly in her left hand, Emma slipped the fingers of the right one under Archie’s paw and gently probed the spaces between his leathery pads. She found the problem almost immediately: a spiny cocklebur seed, its razor-sharp spurs buried deep in the tender flesh. Emma marveled that the little dog had been able to walk with that thing in his paw, much less throw himself at her door. You had to admire an animal like that.

  She took a deep breath.

  “Okay,” she told him. “This is going to hurt more for a second, but after that I promise you’ll feel a whole lot better. You ready?”

  He gave her hand another lick. I’m ready, it said. Let’s get this over with.

  When the burr was out, Emma wiped the mud from Archie’s paw and blotted his coat dry. Then the two of them went into the kitchen to see if there was anything suitable for a dog to eat.

  She found an uneaten hamburger in the refrigerator. Emma broke it into pieces and set them in a bowl on the floor. As Archie dug in, she filled a second bowl with water and set it down, too. When he’d finished the burger and drunk his fill, Emma put him back on her lap and began carefully picking the brambles and goose grass from his coat.

  “Boy, is Todd going to be happy to see you,” she said. “He’s been worried sick.”

  Emma glanced at the clock and bit her lip.

  I wonder if I should call and tell him.

  No, she thought, it’d be morning soon enough. Better to let Todd get some rest.

  As happy as Emma was that Archie had been found, her joy was bittersweet. Having his dog back meant that Todd would be leaving in the morning. Who knew if she’d ever see him again? Still, she reminded herself, it wasn’t her place to persuade him to stay.

  When at last Archie’s coat was clean, Emma set him down on a pillow, covered him with a blanket, and crawled back into bed. She’d been exhausted before; now she could barely move. She put her head on the pillow and had just begun to drift off when she heard a noise in the kitchen. Emma lifted her head and saw Archie, sitting in front of the open refrigerator door, surveying its contents. Had he opened it himself?

  “Still hungry, huh?”

  He glanced back at her and licked his chops.

  Emma was too tired to argue.

  “Okay,” she said. “Just make sure you close the door when you’re through.”

  CHAPTER 11

  The telephone in Todd’s room rang promptly at six. He rolled over and grabbed for the receiver twice before bringing it to his ear.

  “Good morning,” Emma said. “This is your wake-up call.”

  Todd shook his head. The phone had pulled him out of a dream; it took him a second to realize where he was.

  “I didn’t order a wake-up call,” he grumbled, squinting at the clock.

  “Oh. Well, since you’re awake, why don’t you come down to my cottage? I’ve got something I want to show you before I start work.”

  He yawned and rolled a kink out of his shoulder.

  “Give me ten minutes,” he said, and hung up.

  Todd stepped out of the front door and shivered. When the rain left that morning, it had taken the cloud cover with it and the temperature had dropped noticeably. The puddles and tree branches were glazed with ice and the grass looked as sharp as knives. He thrust his hands into his pockets and started down the path toward Emma’s cottage, his breath leaving a trail of white puffs in his wake. If he couldn’t figure out how to open the suitcase soon, Todd thought, he’d have to find a store where he could buy some warmer clothing and heavier boots. He could already feel his toes getting numb.

  What was it that Emma wanted him to see? And why was it so important that he come right then, before she started work? He smiled. Maybe there wasn’t anything to show him. Maybe it was just an excuse for the two of them to be alone.

  Since seeing Emma last night, he’d been thinking a lot about the summers they’d spent together as kids. She was Todd’s first crush, the first girl he’d ever thought of as something other than a giggling, finicky annoyance. There’d been times in the past when he’d wondered if their feelings for each other had been blossoming into something more than a summer romance, but then he’d remind himself that it was foolish to dwell on what-ifs and put the thought aside. As the years passed, the question of whether or not he and Emma might have been falling in love became a moot point.

  Todd felt a twinge of guilt as he realized how excited he was to be seeing Emma again. He and Gwen were together now; they were about to become engaged. Fantasizing about another woman was not only childish, it was disloyal. How would he feel if Gwen were off somewhere flirting with an old boyfriend? Whatever Emma had to show him, he was determined not to stay for long.

  The cottage was in sight now, its whitewashed siding and periwinkle blue shutters a cheerful contrast to the wintry weather. Someone had removed the overgrown shrubs that had once shrouded the tiny structure and replaced them with a neat row of dwarf boxwood. Unless he missed his guess, there would be day lilies in the planting beds come springtime. The Spirit Inn might be an imposing Victorian mansion, but Emma’s cottage looked like a cozy English dollhouse. He wiped his feet on the welcome mat and knocked.

  Todd heard whispering inside, then quick, light footsteps. The door swung open.

  “Surprise!” Emma said.

  Before Todd could ask what the surprise was, Archie dashed through the doorway, jumping and barking, whirling like a dervish.

  “Archie!” he cried.

  He scooped up the little dog and hugged him gratefully. Archie was okay! He wasn’t trapped; he wasn’t starving; no bear or coyote had mauled him. Todd felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It was like witnessing a miracle.

  He buried his face in Archie’s fur.

  “Boy, you smell good,” he said.

  “That’s baby shampoo,” Emma told him. “I just finish
ed blowing him dry.”

  Todd stared at her. “You did?”

  “Come on in,” she said, laughing. “I’ll tell you all about it.”

  His first impression of the cottage as a dollhouse was reinforced when Todd stepped inside. He’d remembered the place being much larger, a maze of supplies and broken appliances that Emma’s grandmother had used as the hotel’s de facto storage shed, but which he, Claire, and Emma regarded as their personal clubhouse. What he’d thought of as a vast space was in fact a studio apartment with scaled-down appliances in its efficiency kitchen, a table for two, and a sleeper couch. Todd looked around at the modest, tasteful furnishings and felt pleased that his old friend—a rootless, unhappy orphan—had been able to create such a warm and inviting home for herself. He tried not to contrast it with the cold, avant-garde furnishings that Gwen had recently filled his own house with, reminding himself that it wasn’t fair to compare the two, especially since his girlfriend wasn’t there to defend herself.

  “Archie showed up this morning around two,” Emma said. “He was muddy and it looked like he’d rolled in every sticker bush on the property.”

  She picked a wicked-looking burr up off the table and handed it to Todd.

  “This was stuck in his right front paw.”

  Todd stared at the sharp, yellowish spines, which were nearly an inch long.

  “That’s a spiny cocklebur seed,” Emma said. “The plants are invasive around here. Livestock that eat those things get sick; some of them die.”

  “Poor guy.”

  “I picked the burrs out last night,” she said, “and saved the bath for this morning.”

  Mud? Cockleburs? A bath? Todd was blown away. Gwen would never have done so much for an animal that wasn’t hers, especially one that had interrupted her beauty sleep.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

  He set the burr aside and gave Archie a gentle shake.

  “You had me worried, you little poop.”

  Emma smiled. “He ate pretty much everything I had in the fridge, but you’ll need to get him some dog food before you go to Claire’s. And don’t blame me if the pizza gives him gas. It wasn’t my idea.”

  Pizza?

  Todd decided not to pursue it. Emma had saved his dog. If Archie turned into a stink bomb, at least he was still alive.

  “Anyway,” Emma said. “I checked with the weather service and the roads should be clear in another hour or so. I’m sure you’d like to get back on the road.”

  Todd felt his good mood evaporate. He’d been so glad to have Archie back that he’d forgotten it meant there was nothing to stop him now from leaving. It felt as if he’d just arrived. Did he really have to go so soon? Todd was in no hurry to get rid of Archie, and he and Emma had barely had time to catch up with each other. Besides, she’d washed his dog and comped him a room for the night. Didn’t he owe her something for that?

  “Maybe you’ll let me do some chores around here to pay you back before I go.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “I thought you had to get to Claire’s.”

  “Her place is only an hour away.” He shrugged. “I’m not in a hurry if you don’t mind my hanging around awhile longer.”

  Emma shrugged.

  “No, I don’t mind. I’m sure my handyman, Jake, could find something for you to do.”

  Todd glanced at his dog.

  “Can Archie stay in here?”

  Archie, who’d been happily panting as he listened to their conversation, reeled in his tongue and cocked his head.

  “It’s fine with me,” Emma said. “After the day he had yesterday, it might even be better if he got some more rest.”

  She pointed to the pillow and blanket she’d given Archie the night before.

  “He’s welcome to hang out here until you’re ready to go.”

  “Excellent,” Todd said. “And in the meantime, I’ll try to make myself useful.”

  “Are you sure? You don’t have to, you know.”

  Todd set Archie on the pillow and tucked the blanket around him.

  “I’m sure.”

  “All right,” Emma said, grabbing her coat. “If you knock on the back door and tell the kitchen staff I sent you, they’ll give you some breakfast. I’ll talk to Jake when he gets in.”

  Todd was about to tell her that he could pay for his own breakfast, but Emma was already halfway out the door.

  “I’ll see if we can get you some work clothes, too,” she said. “Come by my office when you’re ready to get started.”

  In the kitchen, Todd was treated to a farmhand’s breakfast: pancakes, eggs, and hash brown potatoes filled one plate; a second was piled high with bacon and house-made sausage. Looking at all the food in front of him, Todd couldn’t help thinking about the wheatgrass smoothies and egg-white omelets that Gwen swore were the keys to a long and healthy life.

  Oh, well, he thought. When in Rome . . .

  When he’d finished, he thanked the cook, handed his plates to the dishwasher, and went back to his room to call Gwen.

  Five more rings and another message left on her voice mail. As Todd broke the connection, he began to wonder what Gwen was doing that she didn’t have time to call him back. It wasn’t like her not to return his calls. Then again, maybe her cell phone was out of range. Service out on the island could be pretty spotty.

  He walked down to the lobby and saw Clifton at the front desk. The man gave him an unctuous smile.

  “Good morning, Mr. Dwyer. May I help you?”

  “Is Emma around?”

  “Miss Carlisle is in a meeting,” Clifton said. “As soon as she’s free, I’ll let her know you’re here.”

  Todd looked around for a place to sit, but all the chairs were taken by people he assumed were there for the convention. They were a well-dressed bunch—even moneyed, perhaps—who nevertheless gave a strong impression of the counterculture. As they milled around, conversing with one another, the general mood of the room was one of excited anticipation. Whatever these ghost hunters had come looking for, it seemed that some of them, at least, had already found it.

  After a few minutes spent wandering around the lobby, curiosity got the better of him and he approached a middle-aged couple who looked as if they might know what was going on.

  “Excuse me,” Todd said. “Are you here for the convention?”

  “Indeed we are,” the man said in a voice more suited for the theater than the inn’s modest foyer.

  He offered a slight bow.

  “I’m Professor Lars Van Vandevander. This is my wife, Vivienne.”

  “Viv.” The woman smiled. “Lars is one of the featured speakers.”

  “Oh. Congratulations.”

  Todd introduced himself and the two men shook hands.

  “Are you a member of SSSPA?” the professor said.

  “No,” Todd said. “Just a guest, but I’m curious. What does ‘spa’ stand for?”

  The Van Vandevanders glanced at each other and smiled.

  “The Society for the Scientific Study of Paranormal Activity,” the professor said.

  Viv nodded. “We’re ghost hunters.”

  “I see.”

  “Lars and I have been touring Washington’s haunted places in preparation for his lecture tonight.”

  “A fascinating journey,” the professor said. “New Mexico, of course, is touted as the state for encountering UPs—”

  “Unexplained phenomena,” Viv whispered.

  “—but for my money, the Pacific Northwest has a far more interesting mix of both PA and EVP activity.”

  Todd nodded. “So, as far as you’re concerned, this place is genuinely haunted?”

  “It certainly is. It’s on the NRHP.”

  “The N, R . . . ?”

  “The National Register of Haunted Places.”

  The Van Vandevanders shared an anxious look.

  “However, you mustn’t worry,” the professor said. “Most enco
unters are benign.”

  His wife nodded. “Poltergeists are notoriously shy.”

  “In fact,” Lars continued, “there was one here just last night.”

  Todd looked nonplussed. “An encounter?”

  “More of an auditory anomaly, really; a sort of piercing wail, or keening. Viv and I heard it, as did several of the other guests.”

  “When was that?”

  Viv screwed up her face. “Oh, I don’t remember. Do you, dear?”

  Lars shook his head.

  “Around midnight, perhaps? I’m afraid I didn’t notice the time.” He looked at Todd. “I’m sorry you missed it.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” Todd said. “I stayed here several times as a kid and I don’t remember ever encountering a ghost.”

  He glanced back at the front desk and saw Clifton waving him over.

  “Looks like I have to go,” he said. “It was nice meeting you both. Good luck with your lecture tonight.”

  “Perhaps you’d like to come,” Viv said hopefully.

  Todd shook his head. “I didn’t pay for the conference. It wouldn’t be fair.”

  “Oh, pish posh,” the professor said. “I’m allowed a guest or two, and Viv would be thrilled. Wouldn’t you, dear?”

  His wife nodded. “I felt a strong harmonic resonance with you as soon as we met.”

  Todd pursed his lips thoughtfully.

  “Let me think about it,” he said.

  “Good!” Lars said. “We’ll be in the Energy Room. Viv will save a seat for you in the front row.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Whatever mistakes Emma might have made in her love life, she prided herself on knowing they’d never interfered with her work. Of course Clifton, having been close to Gran, had been privy to some of the details, but even those had come to him only secondhand, and all of that had preceded Emma’s inheritance of the inn.

  A young woman in her position couldn’t afford to let personal feelings undercut her authority. As far as her day-to-day dealings with the staff were concerned, she was scrupulously evenhanded, careful not to show any sort of favoritism. That was why, she supposed, this conversation with her handyman was so difficult. Jake had come in early that day, and when Emma called him into her office, he must have assumed she was ready to give him the funds for the roof. Instead, she’d asked him to give Todd a job.