Heart of Clay

by Shanna Hatfield

  Chapter Fifteen

  Spring finally arrived and Callan was anxious to get outside and plant flowers. One warm Saturday afternoon found her on her knees in a flowerbed close to the back of the house, putting in a variety of vibrant plants.

  She couldn’t seem to get enough color. It was liberating to shake off the last dark remnants of winter and fill both the landscape and her spirit with bright blossoms of color and hope.

  As she sat back, she breathed deeply of the delicious scent of earth budding to life - of warm, loamy soil, the barely noticeable but sweet scent of fruit trees blossoming, the sharp tang of mother earth bursting with new growth and life.

  Brilliant blue painted the sky overhead, the grass was a thick green carpet, and the daffodils all nodded their heads in perfect golden hues. She could hear birds chirping in the trees and one ambitious neighbor running a lawn mower.

  Callan enjoyed this spring more than any she could remember and felt very grateful that each day she grew more content, more at peace with herself. She had so much to be thankful for and so much to love about her life, especially Clay.

  The object of her thoughts came around the corner of the house with his hands behind his back, looking quite pleased with himself. He wore that look a lot lately, Callan mused, as she watched him stroll toward her.

  All it took was a glimpse of her handsome husband to make her heart pound and her breath catch. She wondered if he knew he still had that effect on her.

  Her smile held warmth and contentment as she brushed dirt off her gloved hands. Clay squatted down next to her, keeping his hands behind his back, grinning so broadly, both dimples winked at her.

  “Brick, what are you up to? You look positively mischievous.” Callan tried to see what he held behind his back but he turned so she couldn’t. “How did things go out at the ranch today?”

  “Good. I finished up a little early because I wanted to bring you something.” He continued grinning, refusing to let her see what he held. “What would it be worth to you to see what I’ve got?”

  Callan gave him a peck on the cheek. “How about that?” She continued trying to peer around him.

  “Nope.” Clay shook his head. “You can do better than that.”

  Callan gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Now will you show me?”

  “No can do. You aren’t trying very hard.”

  Callan peeled off her gloves and tossed them down. She tipped back Clay’s cowboy hat, placed a hand on each side of his face, and raised her lips to his. The heated, hungry kiss she gave him scrambled his thoughts while blood zinged through his veins. She pulled back and smirked. “Now will you show me, please?”

  “Much better.” Clay brought one hand from behind his back and handed Callan a basket with a fuzzy ball of squirming fur inside.

  She gasped in delight. “Oh, a puppy! A puppy!” She held the Border collie pup close to her face and cuddled it tenderly. “For me, Clay? Do I get to keep her?”

  “Yes, but he won’t appreciate being called her. You’ll have to think of a boy name, Laney.” Clay laughed and rubbed the puppy’s head. “They weaned the puppies last week and this one is the pick of the bunch. He’s going to be quite a dog. Mom and Dad wanted you to have him.”

  “He’s perfect! Thank you so much. I love him.” Callan cuddled the puppy that grew sleepy in her arms. “I’m going to call him Cully.”

  “Cully. That sounds like a misfit,” Clay teased Callan. He didn’t care if she called the pup George. Just seeing her face light up when she held it was enough for him. “We need to get this little fella set up with a bed, water and food bowls. I thought to get a nice kennel so he can stay in it when we aren’t home, or we can put him in the barn in one of the empty stalls, that way there won’t be any chance of him being out in the road.”

  Clay spoke but Callan didn’t make any pretense of listening. She was completely absorbed in the puppy.

  “Callan, do you want to go with me to get his things?”

  “Hmm? Oh, okay,” Callan said, still petting the pup. “Can we bring him along?”

  “Sure. Let’s go.”

  By the time they got home with a pickup load of puppy paraphernalia, Clay started to wonder if the dog was such a good idea after all. Callan had largely ignored him in her excitement with the little ball of fur.

  They not only got Cully a doghouse, they purchased bowls, a bed for him to use in the barn and one for inside their house, a collar and leash, a name tag, puppy food, chew toys, and goodness only knew what else. He had no idea how one puppy could possibly need so much stuff.

  Callan provided a minimal amount of help in fixing up one of the barn stalls and putting down a thick layer of straw, but got more excited about placing the doghouse just so and fluffing the bedding. Clay finished dragging all of Cully’s goodies out of his truck and found a place to store the food, set the food and water bowls, and dumped the toys into a plastic tub.

  After taking the puppy inside for a tour of the house, Callan stuck a bed for him in the family room by the patio door. Clay walked inside as she instructed the puppy on what rooms were okay for him to be in and what rooms were off limits. So far, the kitchen and family room comprised his domain. That suited Clay just fine.

  When it was time to turn in for the evening, Callan took the puppy out to the barn and left an old stuffed toy in the doghouse with him so he wouldn’t be lonely. As soon as they shut the stall gate, Cully started to whine. By the time they reached the patio, he’d launched into a full-scale cry.

  “Maybe we should bring him in, just for tonight.” Callan started back toward the barn.

  Clay took her arm and turned her around. “Callan, you know if you bring him in tonight, it will be every night. We both agreed we’re not having a housedog. He’ll be fine. And no, I’m not being mean.” He pulled her into the house and closed the patio door.

  Callan gave him a look that said she was none too pleased with him and went into the bedroom. When Clay finally wandered in, Callan sat in bed, flipping through a magazine. She refused to look at him as he went into the bathroom and closed the door.

  While he brushed his teeth, Clay wondered if Callan was ready for another dog. She certainly acted loopy over Cully, though. Maybe he was the one not ready for her to have another dog.

  Although he knew it was childish and stupid, the attention she’d given the dog made him jealous. He’d just have to beat the green monster into submission and learn to deal with it.

  Clay walked out of the bathroom annoyed to find Callan had turned off the light and rolled over onto her edge of the bed.

  A shiver of dread slithered through him as he quietly slid onto his own side of the bed. He’d enjoyed Callan’s warmth and love the last few months, but it looked like a cold front had moved returned.

  He settled his head onto the pillow, wondering what he’d done to deserve the cold shoulder, other than try to make his wife happy. Clay was surprised when she suddenly rolled over and threw an arm across his chest. She nearly smothered him with kisses before he realized what happened.

  Gathering a few wits about him, he pulled Callan close and rubbed his hands along her back. “Whoa, Laney, what’s this about?”

  “For bringing me Cully and making me so happy, and being the best husband ever.” Callan kissed him along his jaw, down his neck, then nibbled his ear, making tingles start at his toes and work their way upward.

  “The best husband ever?” His lips captured hers in an impassioned kiss, lost in the wild sparks flying between them.

  “Mmm. Hmm.”