“Last week, yes. This week, not so much. But you’re right. Any time is an improvement. I just wish...”
“What?”
“I hate to think of you being alone this weekend.”
“I’m not alone. I have the dogs to keep me company,” Becca said. “I’ll be fine.”
The worry from Gertie’s eyes didn’t disappear. “I know. You’re quite capable, but humor an old woman.”
Becca’s parents loved her. But they didn’t have the luxury to sit around and worry about her the way Gertie did. Becca had been on her own from a young age because they’d worked multiple jobs. Knowing Gertie cared so much gave Becca a true sense of belonging. Something she hadn’t found outside the trailer park or dog shows or the animal clinic where she worked. “How about I text you each time I stop to let the dogs out? I’ll let you know what’s going on during the show, too.”
Gertie’s features relaxed. “That would make me feel better.”
Now, if Becca could stop thinking about Caleb and what he would be doing while she was away, she might feel better, too.
* * *
What the hell was Caleb doing here?
He glanced around the fairgrounds in Redmond, Oregon. White fenced outdoor show rings, dogs of every color and size, bright sunshine and green grass.
He was supposed to be working today, Saturday, not at a dog show. But Grams had said between showing the dogs and passing out samples of their dog products Becca had sounded exhausted and she still had two more days to go.
Caleb was responsible for so much. Now he had to take on his grandmother’s dog consultant?
He could have said no to Grams insisting he attend. He could have sent someone else. But he’d wanted to see Becca.
If only Caleb could find her among the RVs, dogs, crates, grooming tables, rings and people. He’d tried calling and texting her, but couldn’t reach her. He walked along the row of show rings.
On his left, vendors sold everything from dog-imprinted tea towels to doggy massage services. One booth had a dog treadmill for owners who couldn’t—didn’t want to, perhaps?—take their animals for a walk. People passed out samples of food and treats. Seeing all these products first hand made one thing clear...Grams’s skin care line didn’t stand a chance against all the edible wares and dog-inspired tchotchkes.
He didn’t see Becca anywhere.
Women and men dressed in business attire scurried around with combs, brushes, spray bottles and raced from the grooming stands to the ten show rings set up at the county fairgrounds.
Two big dogs barked at a group of smaller black-and-white papillions. Others from the show ring next to them joined in. Annoying, but they were dogs. Dogs barked and shed.
Outside the fenced area of Ring Six stood Becca. She wore a lime-green suit that showed off her curves nicely. She looked professional, as she had in his office on Monday night. But today she appeared more confident.
A puff of white stood at her side. Snowy must have spent his morning being bathed and primped to look like a cotton ball.
He walked toward her. Snowy saw him first and barked.
Becca turned. Smiled.
Her eyes widened. Twinkled.
Caleb’s heart slammed against his ribs. He hadn’t expected her to be so excited to see him. He’d thought she wanted him to be at the show, but her reaction told him otherwise. Maybe coming here hadn’t been such a waste of time. “Hello.”
“What are you doing here?” she asked, a breathless quality to her voice.
“Gertie said you sounded exhausted on the phone last night.”
“What?”
“Grams said you were totally overwhelmed passing out samples and showing dogs and needed help.”
Becca inhaled sharply. “So she sent you to the rescue.”
He gave a mock bow. “At your service, milady.”
“Thanks, but I have no idea why Gertie said what she did. I’m not overwhelmed or tired. Things are going well. I’ve passed out samples and feedback fliers. The interest has been high. Eighty percent of the people I’ve spoken with have taken the packages. I only have a few left.”
“Then why am I here?” Though seeing Becca felt good. Thoughts of her had distracted him all week. He’d forced himself not to call her each day.
Becca scrunched her nose. “Gertie must have a reason.”
But what? Grams never did anything without a reason. Well, except shopping. “Did my grandmother say anything to you?”
“Just that she hated the thought of my being here alone.”
Alone. Alone. Alone.
The word echoed in his mind.
She didn’t want Becca alone. Grams didn’t want Caleb alone. She wanted them...
Together.
That would explain everything going on recently. “My grandmother’s up to her old tricks.”
“That’s a relief,” Becca said. “For a minute I was worried Gertie didn’t trust me.”
“That’s not the case at all.”
“So what’s going on?
“Matchmaking.”
“Matchmaking?” Lines creased Becca’s forehead. Her mouth gaped. “With us?”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“I really don’t think—”
“Can you come up with a better reason?”
“I...Well...” The startled look in her eyes matched the way he felt. “No, I can’t.”
“Grams has been vocal about wanting great-grandchildren, but I never thought she’d stoop to matchmaking.” Caleb had to give Grams credit. She’d picked a woman who was the polar opposite of Cassandra. “But she created a line of baby products, so who knows how far she’d go?”
Snowy pulled away to sniff a small terrier, but Becca tugged on the leash stopping him.
“I don’t think Gertie is playing matchmaker.” Becca motioned to herself. “I’m not corporate trophy wife material.”
Caleb took a long, hard look. “Don’t sell yourself short. I like what I see.”
“I’m not talking physical appearance.” Her mouth slanted. “Imagine me schmoozing at a client party. Think about my past. I’m not the kind of woman you take home to meet your mother.”
“My grandmother thinks you’re amazing.”
Becca straightened. A satisfied smile lit her face. “The feeling’s mutual. But your grandmother is a special person.”
“That’s true.” Becca’s lack of pretense was far more appealing than the pretentious poise of his ex-fiancée and mother. “But you should know you’re in a class so high above my mother it’s not even funny.”
Becca gave him a confused look. “Gertie said your mother died.”
“She did, but if she were alive I would never want to introduce you to her. My mother married my father for his money. She ran off with her personal trainer. Once the divorce was finalized, we never saw or heard from her again.”
Becca touched his arm. “What a horrible thing for a mother to do to her kids.”
He shrugged. “Even before my mother deserted us, my grandparents were the ones raising us. It was them or a team of nannies.”
“Sounds like you were better off with your grandparents.”
He nodded, but this conversation was getting too personal. He’d never told anyone except Ty about his mom. Caleb wasn’t sure why he’d shared the story with Becca. Maybe because she’d been so self-deprecating when she shouldn’t have been. She was also easy to talk with.
Dogs continued barking. People milled about. Applause filled Ring Seven.
“When do you go?” he asked, changing the subject.
“After the Tibetan terriers.”
“Snowy looks like a puffball.”
“It takes time for him to be
whitened, washed, volumized, combed, teased and sprayed.”
“Do you do that with every dog?”
“Each breed is different,” she said. “I have a schedule. I know who to work on when. Snowy’s grooming is intensive, but he loves going in the ring, so he’s more patient than some others. Maurice hates being on the grooming table. Blue doesn’t mind it much.”
A man in a suit and red striped tie approached. “Rebecca, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “Hi, Dennis.”
Caleb moved closer to her, unsure who this fellow was or why he seemed so interested in Becca.
Dennis smiled. “Nice job with the elkhound this morning. I thought you’d get Best of Breed.”
“Thanks, but Gertie’s happy with Select,” Becca said. “This is Gertie’s grandson, Caleb Fairchild.”
“I’m Dennis Johnson.” The man shook his hand, then looked right back at Becca. “Nice looking bichon. What products are you using on him?”
“Prototypes Gertie developed using all-natural, organic ingredients. I’ve been using them on all her dogs.” Becca didn’t miss a beat. “Would you like samples to try?”
The man looked as if he’d hit three sevens on a slot machine. “Yes, please.”
“Find me at my RV. I have a package with the products and a form for you to give us your feedback.”
“I’ll be by later,” the man said. “Good luck in the ring.”
Caleb found the exchange interesting. The man recognized something different about the products Becca was using on her dogs. “Giving away samples with a feedback form is a good start, but maybe a little soon since you’re not ready to manufacture products.”
“Not on a large scale. But we can do something smaller in the interim.”
“Sounds like Grams talking.”
Becca nodded. “She’s eager.”
“More like a runaway train.”
Which was why Grams playing matchmaker would mean trouble. Not only for Caleb, but Becca.
A woman in a purple apron walked past at a fast clip with an angry expression on her face. “That bitch didn’t want to free stack.”
Caleb waited for the woman to pass then looked at Becca. “That’s...”
“Dog speak.” Laughter filled her bright eyes. “I’m assuming you know that a bitch is a female dog. Stack means placing a dog in a position that shows off the breed standards. Hand stacking is when a handler manually positions the dog’s paws. Free stacking is when the handler uses bait, calls or signs to get the dog to position himself.”
Dog showing didn’t only have it’s own vocabulary. A sociologist could have a field day studying these people and their interactions with each other and their dogs. But this was the most comfortable he’d ever seen Becca. Except at the kennel.
She adjusted the chain collar around Snowy’s neck. “It’s our turn.”
A tall, thin man with a beard and in a three-piece suit called her number. Becca entered the ring with the dog. Three other handlers and their dogs, replicas of powder puff Snowy, followed them. The judge studied each of the dogs.
The dogs all looked the same to Caleb, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Becca. She ran around the ring with Snowy, then positioned him in front of the judge. Caleb assumed that was hand stacking. They ran diagonally across the ring and back. One by one the other handlers did the same until all circled the ring in a line once again.
The judge pointed. Snowy won and was awarded a ribbon.
A few minutes later, Becca and Snowy returned to the ring and went through the same routine. Snowy was named Best of Breed, BOB for short, and Becca received a large ribbon.
Becca skipped out of the ring. “Gertie is going to be thrilled. I need to get Snowy in his crate so he can rest before Group, then I’ll call...”
Caleb didn’t know why her voice trailed off. “What?”
“Would you mind holding Snowy for a minute?”
He had no idea what was going on, but took Snowy’s lead, a black leather leash with silver beads.
Becca walked twenty feet away to a little girl, who looked to be around seven or eight. The child sat on a folding chair. She held the leash of an Irish setter puppy with both hands and wiped tears from her face with her arm.
“Hello, I’m Becca.” She knelt at the girl’s side and put her hand in front of the dog nose. “What’s your name?”
“Gianna.”
“You have a pretty dog.”
Gianna hiccupped. “Thank you.”
Caleb had no idea what Becca was doing, but moved closer so he could find out.
The dog sniffed her hand. “What’s your puppy’s name?”
“P-Princess.”
“Is Princess going to be shown today?”
“No.” Gianna sniffled. “My mommy twisted her ankle, so can’t show her. This would’ve been Princess’s first time in the ring.”
Becca looked around. “Where is your mommy?”
“Getting ice for her foot.”
“When your mom gets back, why don’t we ask if she’d let me show Princess for you.”
Gianna’s tears stopped flowing. Her mouth formed a perfect O. “You’re a handler?”
Becca petted the dog, and Gianna scooted closer to her. “I’m a dog handler and I’d be happy to show Princess.”
Caleb knew Becca had a full schedule, especially with Snowy continuing on, yet she wanted to help this little girl.
Becca’s action filled him with warmth. How many people had walked past the crying child without noticing or pretending not to see her? But she’d done something about it. The woman was...special. He couldn’t believe he’d doubted her motivations and accused her of being a scam artist.
A thirtysomething woman with her hair in a bun and wearing a purple suit hobbled toward them. She carried a plastic bag full of ice. “Gianna?”
The girl leaped out of her chair. She bounced from foot to foot, her ponytails flying up and down. “Mommy, Mommy, this lady can show Princess for us. She’s a handler.”
Becca rose and held out her hand. “My name is Becca Taylor. Your daughter told me about your ankle. I’d be happy to show your puppy for you.”
“Oh, thanks.” The woman’s gaze flitted from Becca to her daughter and the dog. “That’s nice of you to offer, but I can’t afford to pay for a handler.”
“No charge,” Becca said without any hesitation. “I wouldn’t want Princess to miss her first time in the ring.”
Caleb’s chest tightened, a mix of affection and respect, at her generosity. One more attribute to add to Becca’s growing list. But she wasn’t being a smart businesswoman, given her first priorities were Grams’s dogs and the product samples. He assumed Grams wouldn’t mind, given her kind heart, but even if she did, Caleb wasn’t about to say a word. Becca was doing exactly the right thing.
Gianna tugged at her mother’s arm. “Please, Mommy. Please, oh, please, oh please.”
The woman looked stunned. Relief quickly took over. “Th-that would be great. Thank you.”
Becca glanced back at Caleb. “Do you mind holding unto Snowy a little longer so I can work with Princess?”
“Happy to.” He would do whatever she asked. She was so genuine he wanted to help her, not make things harder. “I’ll put him into his crate.”
“That would be great.”
“Come on, Snowy.” If Caleb hurried, he might make it back to watch her in the ring. “I don’t want to miss this.”
But whether Becca Taylor was in the ring or out of it, she was a very special woman. There was no other place he’d rather be this weekend than right here with her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
BECCA STOOD OUTSIDE the ring where Best in Show, aka BIS, would be held in a few minutes. She wiggled her toes insi
de her black flats. The dogs, including Princess, had all placed in their events and Snowy had won his group. The buzz surrounding Gertie’s dog-care samples kept increasing. Gertie was beside herself with pride. Win or lose in the next few minutes, the day couldn’t get much better.
“You look so calm and cool.” Caleb stood next to Becca. “Not the least bit nervous.”
She glanced his way. Her stomach did a somersault. She was so happy he was here.
“I’m more excited than anything else.” Becca wanted to pinch herself to make sure her eyes were open and she wasn’t dreaming. She adjusted Snowy’s lead in her hand. “No matter how Snowy does, we’ve already won. People are very interested in Gertie’s new line of dog products.”
“It can’t hurt your reputation, either.”
“Or Snowy’s. He’s on his way to Grand Champion,” she said. “But he’s never won BIS.”
“Today could be the day.”
Caleb’s words, spoken with sincerity, pierced her heart like an arrow. She double-checked Snowy to make sure he looked his best, then rerolled his lead. “I hope so.”
“Good luck.” The tender look in his eyes made her feel as if they were the only two people at the fairground. Her breath caught. Her temperature rose. “Not that you need luck.”
Her heart melted. If only he’d wished her luck with a kiss the way he had when she took Maurice to the vet on Monday night.
Caleb’s gaze lingered, tenderness turning to something resembling desire.
Her pulse skittered. He might want to kiss her again.
Please, oh, please. She realized she was acting like a little girl, like Gianna.
Becca didn’t care. She parted her lips, in case he was looking for an invitation.
Then she realized...they weren’t alone. Hundreds of people stood and sat ringside, many who knew Gertie. Going down this path with Caleb was fruitless and dangerous. He might have decided Becca wasn’t a scam artist, but a kiss would mean nothing to him. A kiss would mean more to her. Kissing him, even if she might want that, wasn’t right or smart or even sane.
She was about to go in for Best of Breed. She needed to concentrate on Snowy, not think about Caleb.
The Man Behind the Pinstripes Page 11