Fresh Tracks

by Georgia Beers

  The air was brisk; it wasn’t supposed to get above twenty-five degrees today. She trudged around the house through the snow, which was a little more than ankle deep. It hadn’t occurred to her to bring her cross-country skis; what a perfect opportunity to glide silently through some beautiful scenery. She made a mental note to ask if Amy had a pair she could borrow. Laura loved her job at Shadow Oaks, but it was hectic and time-consuming and she needed to grab on to every opportunity for relaxation that she could.

  The sun hadn’t quite risen, but the sky was smoothly fading from deep gray to light silver and the snow allowed for more than enough visibility for her to trek along as the morning broke fully. She could hear the winter birds chirping in the distance as though discussing breakfast and their plans for the day. She’d also noticed a handful of bird feeders dotting the property, courtesy of Amy, most likely. The woman was a serious nature lover. Laura suspected that if she looked hard enough, she’d probably also find peanuts scattered about for the squirrels and chipmunks and a salt lick or two for the deer.

  Ten minutes into her walk, she stood completely still, breathing in the clean, crisp air, listening to the sounds of nature around her. Laura was a country girl at heart. She’d spent much of her childhood at her grandparents’ in a house very much like Amy’s. She’d built forts in the woods, caught toads from the nearby creek, and eaten wild raspberries on lazy Sunday afternoons. This was home to her. She’d discovered recently, for the first time in her life, that she was okay being alone with herself from time to time. Since moving out of her house with Stephen and renting half a duplex, she’d begun to enjoy her own quiet time. That didn’t mean she didn’t like going out, hanging with her friends or attending the occasional party. It just meant that she was no longer cast into a blind panic when she had plans with nobody but herself. Strange as it sounded, she felt that at forty years old she was finally beginning to understand herself.

  There was still the loneliness, but she was managing.

  By her calculations, she was a little over halfway through her walk on the woodsy path. She could feel the rosiness in her cheeks from the brisk air, the blood coursing through her veins, and then she heard a small whimper. She stopped in her tracks and cocked her head to listen, furrowing her brow and wondering if she’d imagined the sound.

  It came again, sort of a combination whine and snort. She followed it, the direction taking her off the path several yards, until she came upon a small dog. He was a terrier mix of some kind, curled in a ball and shivering at the base of a tree. His brown wiry hair was matted and his big brown eyes were sad and wary. He saw Laura and shivered some more, obviously too cold and lost to jump up and run away from her.

  “Oh,” she breathed, approaching him slowly. “Hey there, little guy.” She removed her glove and held her hand out to the dog’s nose, keeping her voice soft and steady. “What are you doing out here? You must be freezing.”

  The dog gave Laura’s fingertips a halfhearted sniff and then his pink tongue darted out and swiped them gently, once. She moved her hand to his chin and scratched gently underneath it, taking her time and letting him get used to her.

  “We need to warm you up, little guy, and we need to do it soon. Have you been out here all night?”

  She scanned the area, noting with bewilderment that there were no fresh tracks aside from her own. Could the poor dog have possibly spent the entire night in that one spot? The thought broke her heart. She removed her other glove and gently worked her hands beneath his furry body, noting with a small bit of relief that his underbelly was still warm, although that fact made it seem even more impossible that he could have been there for longer than an hour or two. Maybe the snow had fallen more recently than she’d suspected. She made a mental note to ask Jo if she knew.

  She scooped the little dog up in her arms. He couldn’t weigh more than fifteen or twenty pounds. She unzipped her ski jacket, tucked him into the front of it, and zipped it back up part way, hoping her body heat would warm him up sufficiently. To her surprise, he didn’t struggle at all. In fact, he seemed relieved and gave her chin a small lick of thanks. Laura smiled, scratching his furry head.

  “You’re welcome, little guy,” she said as she put her gloves back on and began walking back to the path. She took her time, not wanting to jostle him too much, talking to him like he actually understood what she was saying. “You don’t have a collar on, buddy. Did you run away or did some mean person leave you out here?”

  The thought of somebody dumping a poor, helpless animal in the middle of nowhere made her blood boil and she knew Amy would feel the same way. She hoped they didn’t mind if she brought the dog into the house. There was something about him…she couldn’t put her finger on it, but she felt drawn to the pooch, connected to him like they had something in common. She snuggled him closer to her body, pleased to note that his shivers had eased somewhat.

  “We’ll get you back to the cabin, get you all warmed up, and make you some breakfast, okay, little guy? How do you feel about rice? I’m sure Amy has some. Maybe some eggs? You should take it easy at first; you’re pretty skinny. You don’t want to gorge yourself and then get sick. A little at a time, okay?”

  The dog breathed in deeply and sighed, very much like he was relieved. Laura dropped a kiss onto his head and kept walking, feeling needed for the first time in ages.

  The Stray

  Amy was in the kitchen gathering the makings for a big country breakfast when Molly came downstairs. The smell of bacon was mouthwatering and Molly followed her nose through the living room, then stopped and did a double take at the pile of blankets on the couch. Grinning mischievously at Jo, she backpedaled and plopped down onto the couch, delighted at the grunt that issued from beneath her.

  “Oh, man.” Darby’s voice was muffled. “I think a giant boulder just fell on me.”

  Molly slapped at her and got up. “Funny.”

  Darby peeked out from under the blankets, taking in Molly’s attire of striped cotton pajama pants and a deep green, long-sleeve Adidas T-shirt. Her bare feet were tipped by toes polished a deep burgundy and the shirt brought out the green of her eyes. Darby swallowed hard at the sight, internally shaking her head at herself.

  “I forgot extra socks,” Molly said to Amy as she located a mug and poured herself a cup of coffee. She tugged on Amy’s auburn ponytail. “Can I borrow a pair???

  “Absolutely,” Amy replied, cracking eggs into a large stainless steel bowl. “Jo-Jo, would you be a dear and get this lovely lady a pair of socks for her icy toes?”

  “It would be my pleasure.” Jo kissed the top of Molly’s head as she passed by and disappeared into the master bedroom.

  “How’d you sleep?” Amy asked. “Were you warm enough?”

  “Oh, God yes. That quilt is wonderful. Where’d you find it?”

  “My grandmother made that one. Isn’t it beautiful?” Amy smiled wistfully. “I had the two for the twin beds in the other room made to match so they’d all be the same. I love the homey, outdoorsy feel it gives to the place.”

  “I’ve got to say,” Darby said, her voice scratchy as she shuffled in with a fleece blanket wrapped around her shoulders. “That couch I slept on? Homey and outdoorsy. Very, very nice.”

  Amy reached out and tousled Darby’s sleep-mussed dark hair affectionately, then went back to her eggs.

  “What the hell time is it, anyway?” Darby asked. “It was barely light out when Laura went for a walk. What’s the matter with you people? After forty you don’t have to sleep any more?”

  “Hey,” Molly scolded, playfully pushing at her. “Some of us have a ways to go before we hit that milestone. Besides, that’s all your generation ever does. Sleep.”

  “You’re a lazy bunch, that’s for sure,” Jo added, handing Molly a pair of white socks upon her return. “Sleep till noon. Live with Mom and Dad until you’re thirty…”

  “I have my own place, thank you very much.” Darby felt slightly insulted at the assu
mptions.

  “If you want to go back to sleep, you can take my bed,” Molly offered.

  Darby took several seconds to actually think about it before deciding it was better to decline. “Thank you, Molly, but I’m fine being up at the crack of dawn.” She stuck her tongue out at her aunt. “I do it all the time.”

  Jo snorted but made no further comment as she handed her niece a cup of coffee.

  “I love you all, but get the hell out of my kitchen,” Amy said. “You’re crowding me.”

  “The artist needs her space,” Jo said, herding them a few feet away to the dining room table.

  The open design of the house allowed for Amy to participate in conversations while keeping guests out of her immediate way. It was the only way Jo would have it; their home in the city was designed the same way. If Amy was going to spend so much time in the kitchen, Jo wanted to be able to see her and chat with her while she worked.

  “Sophie still sleeping?” Jo directed her question to Molly.

  “I think so. The door was closed when I got up.” Turning to Darby, Molly asked, “Did you say Laura went out for a walk already?” When both Darby and Jo nodded, Molly raised her eyebrows in surprised admiration. “Wow. That’s ambitious.”

  As if on cue, the front door opened and Laura stepped in, stomping the snow from her boots. Her cheeks had a healthy pink flush to them and her clear blue eyes were glittering. A small canine head peeked out from the top of the zipper of her ski jacket.

  Molly squinted. “What the—?”

  “I’m afraid I found a little something in the woods.” Laura directed her gaze toward Jo. “I hope you don’t mind, but the little guy was frozen stiff.” She unzipped her jacket to reveal the rest of the dog.

  He was brown, his fur wiry and in need of a cleaning. His legs were short and stubby and he had a sweet and gentle face. His ears were mismatched, one pointed straight up and one folded in half and flopping down, giving him a slightly comical appearance. Laura shed her jacket and stepped out of her boots, holding the dog to her chest the whole time. Moving toward the fireplace, she sat down on the wide brick hearth, letting the dog absorb the warmth as the other women approached cautiously.

  “Well would you look at that,” Jo said softly, holding a hand out to the animal. “Hi there, buddy boy.” The dog sniffed the offered fingertips. “You found him?”

  “Yeah, it was kind of weird. He was whimpering at the base of a tree about halfway along the path. I have no idea how he got there. When did it snow, do you know?”

  “I got up around two to go to the bathroom and it was snowing pretty good then.” Amy brought small containers with cream and sugar to the table and set them down, along with a handful of spoons.

  Laura shook her head, not believing the poor dog could have stayed in that one spot for more than four hours, but having no other explanation. “Weird,” she said under her breath.

  Darby squatted down and put her face near the dog’s. “Hey, furry butt. What were you doing out there all alone?” The dog swiped his pink tongue over her nose. Darby smiled up at Laura. “No collar, huh?”

  “Nothing on him or around him.”

  “Looks like you might have yourself a new pal,” Jo grinned.

  “Would it be okay if I kept him here until I figure out the next course of action?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Jo said. “We can’t very well have him out in the woods all alone. Either somebody’s looking for him or somebody dumped him.”

  “He’s so sweet,” Laura said, unable to believe somebody could just leave a helpless animal to fend for itself alone in the snowy woods. “Why would somebody do that?”

  “People are assholes, that’s why.” Darby made the statement and there were nods all around.

  “Amy? Do you think we can scramble him up some eggs or make him some rice or something? He’s awfully skinny.”

  “Consider it done.” After scratching the top of the dog’s head, Amy left them to take care of the task.

  Laura saw Sophie standing behind the others, her approach unnoticed, looking as if she hadn’t slept more than two or three hours all night. She smiled at her temporary roommate. “Morning, Sophie.”

  Sophie inclined her head in a nod of greeting.

  “Want to pet him?”

  “Sure.” Sophie squatted in front of the animal, who was a mess and in need of a bath. “You stink, pal,” she said, but the affection in her voice betrayed the indifference she was trying for.

  Laura smiled. “He does, doesn’t he? I want to give him a bath, but I think I’d better make sure he’s warmed up first. I’m afraid of shocking his system.”

  Sophie stood. “Is there coffee?” she asked nobody in particular, effectively ending any attempt at conversation. Jo pointed to the table and Sophie went to help herself. Laura frowned slightly as she met Jo’s eyes. Jo gave her a don’t-worry-about-it smile of reassurance.

  Darby bent down to the dog’s level once again. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are to have ended up in a house full of lesbians? You hit the mother lode, buddy. Nice work.”

  Forty-five minutes later, they were all seated at the dining room table enjoying a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. The dog was on the floor at Laura’s feet after refusing to stay by the fire alone. He picked daintily from a paper plate of plain scrambled eggs Amy had fixed for him and glanced up every so often as if checking to make sure Laura hadn’t disappeared into thin air. She reached down periodically to caress him.

  “This is delicious, Amy,” Sophie commented, working on her second helping of eggs. “I don’t know what you do to these damn things, but I’ve never had scrambled eggs this good.”

  “Secret ingredients,” Darby said. “Aunt Jo doesn’t even know what goes into them.”

  “True story,” Jo agreed.

  “If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” Amy said with a shrug, then held up a hand forestalling Laura as she opened her mouth to speak. “One chef is not allowed to tell another’s secrets.”

  Laura smiled. “Fair enough. I’m shutting up.”

  “Thank you. And thank you, Sophie. I’m glad you like them.”

  “You know, I was going to try to guess what’s in them,” Sophie said with a grin. “But now that there’s the whole possibility of murder, I think I’ll just eat and enjoy.”

  “Smart move,” Darby said.

  “So,” Jo began, setting down her fork. “I know this is vacation for most of us and I certainly don’t intend to put you on a schedule, but I do want to let you know what some of your options are while you spend the week in our fine establishment.” She smiled at Amy’s grin. “There are two pairs of cross-country skis in the garage, along with snowshoes and toboggans. We have a satellite dish, so watching television is a possibility, even out here in the boondocks. There is also a DVD player and a PlayStation. We’ve got some board games in one of the closets upstairs and there are several decks of cards.”

  “There’s also lots of wine and beer in the basement,” Amy said. “Please help yourselves to all the food and drink you want. Mi casa es su casa.”

  “And, of course, there’s always the sit-on-your-ass option, which many of us choose on vacation,” Jo finished up.

  There were nods and murmurs all around the table. Darby began wiggling her thumbs in midair. “I don’t know about you guys, but I think I’m feeling a game of Resident Evil coming on. Anybody want to help me shoot some zombies?”

  “I’ll take you up on that,” Sophie responded.

  “Can I play after I go snowshoeing?” Molly asked. “One of you will have to teach me.”

  “You got it.” Darby smiled at her.

  “What time will Kristin be here?” Jo asked.

  “She said she was going to head out sometime this morning,” Molly said, leaving out the part about how she’d turned her cell phone completely off last night and left it upstairs on the nightstand next to the bed she’d occupied alone. Because ignoring the p
roblem will make it go away, she thought with disdain, knowing she’d run upstairs and check the voicemail at some point during the day. Sometimes the worst part of being passive-aggressive is actually knowing that you are.

  Kristin

  “Hi, this is Molly and you’ve reached my voicemail. Please leave me your name, number, and a brief message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks.”

  “God damn it.”

  Kristin Collins was exhausted. She pushed the end button and tossed the Blackberry into the passenger seat with great annoyance, yanking the earpiece from her ear and sending it in the same direction.

  As it was, she had to drive with the stereo blasting and the back windows cracked enough to let an uncomfortable amount of cold air blast through the interior of the Lexus SUV. It was the only way to keep herself from drifting off at the wheel. She honestly didn’t know how much longer she could keep up this pace before she’d simply keel over from fatigue, irritation, stress, or all three combined.

  She wished she could drive faster, but the snow had been falling steadily all afternoon and apparently, this particular road wasn’t high on the list of priorities for the snowplow drivers. She forced herself to drive smartly, even though she wanted to blink her eyes like in I Dream of Jeannie and be at the cabin. She should have been there about six hours ago, but damn Jack Reeves had happily heaped more work on her and she’d been stuck in the office. It never seemed to be the right opportunity to mention to Jack that she was actually supposed to be on her third day of vacation. She was sure he knew. She was also suddenly sure that he didn’t care.

  She let her mind drift fully to the subject of her boss. Jack Reeves had been her mentor, her one-time role model. He was a large and handsome African American man with graying temples and a deep, booming voice that commanded attention. When she joined his team many years ago, she’d come in at the bottom rung, and on the ground floor. His company was small, but he was a smart man with a hell of a business sense and Kristin knew he was going nowhere but up. She’d listened to everything he said with rapt fascination, taken notes, asked questions, followed him around like a puppy. A puppy who wanted to learn.