That was when he still trusted her.
Grady marched to his truck, taking care not to glance back over his shoulder at her window.
Linx slid into the cabin of her dog rescue center through the back door, hoping to sneak up to the loft and take a shower.
No such luck. Cedar ran to greet her while Tami turned around from the kitchen table which was directly across from the back door.
Her dog sniffed curiously all over her clothes, and Tami opened her yap, giving Linx a sidelong glance and a barely suppressed smirk. “Well, well, well. Cedar, honey, tell me what smells so delicious and sexy. Might there be more special deliveries?”
“I’m going upstairs,” Linx said lamely.
“Good idea.” Tami pointed to her own head to signal how messed up Linx’s hair was from her mid-afternoon tryst. “Maybe you should have taken a shower with him while you were at it.”
“Maybe I didn’t see him at all,” Linx lied to deflect her nosy friend.
“You were always a bad liar.”
“None of your business.” Linx snarled and made a mean face to cover up the warm and gooey feeling swarming her lower body.
“Oh, but you’re always my business, and there’s only one reason you have that glow on your face.” Tami thrust her index finger in and out of a tunnel made with her other hand. “Did I tell you he shares office space with me, and he not so coincidentally told me he’d be away at the same time you left?”
“He shares an office with you?” Linx sputtered, while finger-combing her mussed up hair.
“Oh, yeah, I keep him in my closet and let him out for phone and internet.” Tami licked her lips exaggeratedly. “Since you won’t ‘call him,’ there’s no bestie code I have to honor.”
“You’re not … doing him, are you?” Linx’s jaw slammed to the floor, but she quickly recovered. “I mean, fine, enjoy yourself. But a man like Grady needs to come with warnings. Large, red warning signs.”
“Warning heeded.” Tami primped her fluffy mop of hair while snorting like she thought the entire deal too funny.
Cedar stuck her nose over Linx’s crotch, sniffing with interest, causing Tami to lose the battle against laughter.
“Girl, get your nose out of my privates.” Linx put Cedar out the backdoor and watched her join the other dogs in their free playtime.
When she returned to the den where she and Tami had their desks, Tami was still chuckling. “You’re going to get caught. His sister Cait’s not going to like you toying with him.”
“I bet you’ll want front row seats when the crap hits the fan, don’t you?”
“Definitely, with popcorn, hot and bothered, er, I mean buttered.” Tami pantomimed stuffing popcorn in her mouth.
Linx couldn’t help smiling as she mock swatted her bestie. They’d gone to school together, from Brownies to high school. Always the smart one, Tami went away for college, while Linx joined the fire crew.
“You keep being entertained,” Linx said as she headed for the shower.
“Wait, I hear the mailman,” Tami shouted. “Can you dump the mail on my desk? I ordered something for Ginger.”
“Urgh!” Linx heaved a sigh. “You need to get up more. You know sitting is the new smoking?”
“My feet hurt.” Tami tapped the keyboard and stared at the monitor intently.
She always had a dozen excuses why she couldn’t walk the dogs or lift a finger, and then she wondered why she couldn’t lose weight.
Linx grabbed the mail and sorted through them, handing Tami her package. A crumpled postcard slipped onto the floor, and Tami picked it up.
She flipped it over and her eyes grew wide. “I don’t believe this.”
“What is it?” Linx stared at a past due bill and added it to the growing pile on her desk. “Does it say I won money?”
“No.” Tami handed the card to Linx. “It’s for you.”
It was a generic picture postcard showing a snowcapped mountain peak above a forest.
The other side, however, was the shocker.
Dear Linx,
I hope you’re doing good with your dogs.
Guess who my jump partner is?
Grady Hart!
I’m a lucky girl.
Your friend, Salem
Linx blinked and gaped at the words. “I don’t believe this.”
“When’s it postmarked?” Tami peered over her shoulder.
“There is no postmark,” Linx said. “See? The stamp’s clean.”
“Sometimes the post office forgets to postmark stuff,” Tami said. “I’m always peeling off stamps and reusing them.”
“It must have been sent early last season,” Linx said. Her gut clenched and a weight pressed down on her shoulders as she sank onto the couch. “She sounded so happy, and now she’s gone.”
“I’m sorry.” Tami sat beside her and rubbed her shoulder. “Were you two close?”
“She took care of me when I was pregnant. I would have lost the baby if she hadn’t checked up on me.”
“Oh, Linx.” Tami hugged her. “I wish I could have been here for you, but I’m glad she was.”
“Me too,” Linx said. “I feel bad that we lost touch.”
Linx stared at the words on the card and shook her head. Salem had decorated the card with hearts, as if she’d been in love.
Salem had always had a crush on Grady—but then, what woman hadn’t? She used to tag along with them that first summer until she got injured and had to drop out. But she’d kept in touch with both Grady and Linx, and after Grady took off for Australia, Salem had been able to track him down.
Maybe they had always been closer than Linx had imagined. Just like that, her post-Grady bliss shattered, and rivulets of cold poured over her.
Linx pointed to the hearts next to Grady’s name. “You think they dated?”
“Hey, don’t go buying trouble,” Tami said. “She’s dead now. What does it matter if she and Grady dated?”
“It shouldn’t matter, except if they were involved, and she died on a jump, and he was her jump partner—”
“Are you saying he caused her death?” Tami’s eyes widened.
“No, but if Grady was her jump partner, why didn’t he show her the way? What really happened up there?”
“There’s only one person who knows,” Tami said. “And you’ll have to ask him.”
Chapter Nine
“I’m telling you, this is the kind of dog you should get,” Grady said to his eldest sister, Cait. He brought Sam into the Hart family cabin where she was staying. It wasn’t quite as far from Colson’s Corner as his plot of land, but remote enough so that they weren’t bothered by neighbors.
The dog sniffed everything carefully before tentatively wagging his tail.
“He’s definitely a man’s dog,” Cait said. “I’m looking for something a little smaller and sweeter.”
“You mean a powder puff dog?” Grady scratched behind Sam’s ears. “You want to live in the backwoods, you need a guard dog.”
“He looks mean and ugly.” Cait said, sitting as far back on the sofa as she could away from the large dog. “Mixing a German shepherd with a pitbull is asking for trouble.”
The dog did look like a scrappy fighter, with a flatter snout than a German shepherd, ears that partially folded down, and a barrel chest over stout and powerful legs.
“Oh, come on, give him a chance.” Grady rubbed Sam’s short-haired coat which was brown underneath with black-tipped hair. The dog sat at attention and wagged the tip of his tail but didn’t make any submissive moves such as lying down and exposing his underbelly.
Nope, a German pit was not cuddly or cute, but the veteran who requested one needed a dog like that to help her gain the confidence to live on her own and venture out of her apartment.
“You should keep him,” Cait said, nursing a glass of ice tea.
How did she know he’d been entertaining exactly those thoughts? Then again, she knew her younger brothers and siste
rs better than they knew themselves. And she was also good at finding out things.
“Can’t do that,” Grady said, steeling himself. “The best dogs go to the vets. This guy is healthy, has a great disposition, and is tough at the same time.”
“Then keep one that has issues, maybe an elderly one who has a hard time getting adopted,” Cait said.
“I don’t want another dog.” Grady swiped his hand over his sweaty forehead.
“Man’s best friend,” she teased in a sing-song voice. “Really, you need to give it another shot.”
“No, I don’t. All dogs do is die on you, or get lost, or you have to put them down. No, thank you.”
“Pretty much sums up your story with women, too.” Cait set her glass down on the coffee table and curled her legs onto the couch sideways. “You want to tell me why you’ve given up?”
“Nope.” Grady rose from the sofa. “Think I’ll take Sam for a walk.”
“I’ll come with you.” Cait pushed herself off the comfortable sofa and waddled to the front door. “Brian and I are in the market for a house in town. If I’m going to put up a wedding business and gift shop next door to the diner and across from the general store, then I need to know whether I’m welcome or not.”
“You have no problem.” Grady snapped the leash onto Sam’s collar. “You’re Linx’s best buddy.”
“Not quite,” Cait said. “Tami King, the head of the Chamber of Commerce, goes back to grade school with her. I haven’t been able to buddy up to her.”
“I can help you with Tami.” Grady grinned as they walked out the door and down the porch. “She and I share office space. Come by on Monday, and I’ll make the introduction.”
The summer heat permeated the evening air, even at this altitude. Grady’s boots crunched over fallen pine needles as he and Cait strolled under a stand of old sequoia trees along a babbling creek.
Sam did a great job of heeling, walking precisely one foot behind him, while Cait kept darting curious glances between him and the dog.
“You thinking of keeping him?” she asked again.
“Thought I told you I can’t.” Grady dragged his voice. “You know why.”
“It’s been years,” Cait said. “Even Connor got a new dog after Bear died.”
“Yeah, well, Bear lived a good long life with him, and he got to say goodbye.”
“I think you and Sam are a good match,” Cait said. “Look how he follows you. It’s like he’s in the Marines or something.”
“No more dogs,” Grady said.
“Getting another dog would be a good start.”
“To what?”
“Love, that’s what.” Cait blinked and flashed him a know-it-all smile. “It’s in the air.”
“Not for me.” He turned his back on her and looked down at Sam, whose sad eyes told him he understood.
Every love story ended in tragedy. Either dumped or dead.
“Seems strange of you to run a dog matching service for veterans without having a dog yourself,” Cait persisted as only a persistent and absolutely annoying eldest sister would do.
“Will you quit bugging me?” Grady hunched his shoulders. Hopefully, once his sister became a mother, she’d have her own brood to nag and pester.
They walked on in an uncomfortable silence while Sam sniffed tree trunks and fence posts. Unfortunately, with Cait, silence was never golden for long.
“Instead of staying up in that trailer, you should stay here with us,” Cait said. “This cabin is as much yours as it is ours.”
The cabin belonged to their parents, so what she said was true, but Grady coveted his privacy, and he wouldn’t get any—even within his thoughts—with Cait yapping all the time.
“I have to be there to guard the building materials, take delivery, and do the construction,” Grady said.
“At least catch your meals here,” Cait offered.
“I’ll think about it, but don’t you two need your privacy?”
“Brian’s already volunteering with the local fire department, and I’m out all day house-hunting,” Cait said. “It might be fun to live above our store.”
“I don’t know if this town is such a great location for business,” Grady said. “It’s too remote, and the locals aren’t friendly.”
“Unless it’s you who’s causing all the trouble.” Cait’s nose wiggled like a bloodhound scenting a particularly intriguing trail.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Grady’s stomach pinched at her implication. “Are you asking me to leave?”
“Should I?” Her eyebrow cocked as she tilted her head. “Somehow, you’ve turned the entire Colson clan against you. I heard Linx was the instigator. I thought you two had this flirtation thing going.”
“We don’t even know each other,” Grady said, kicking a stone from the path.
“Don’t tell me you tried to hook up with her and got turned down.” Cait’s eyes gaped in mock horror. “That would be a first—a woman actually turning you down.”
“Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” Grady said. “I’m done with women. I thought I made that clear. No. More. Women.”
“You got shot down.” She smirked triumphantly. “I’m not stupid. You and Linx were flirting your asses off over Christmas. But since her dog hates you, she shut you out.”
Grady ran his hand through his thick pompadour hair. “What’s the big obsession about Linx? I don’t give a rat’s tail about her.”
“Of course you don’t,” Cait said. “You’re a man of the world, leaving a trail of broken hearts from Alaska to New Zealand. But if you’re thinking of settling here, I’ll put you on notice, brother or no brother—take your ‘hate them and leave them’ stunt somewhere else. I’m starting a wedding business here, and I don’t want you scaring off potential customers.”
“You might want to reevaluate the wisdom of a wedding business in California. Home of the no-fault divorce with the divorce rate over sixty percent.” Grady wasn’t a fan of romance and love—two of the fakest and most insincere concepts ever to plague mankind.
There was nothing more disgusting than a simpering woman whose only hope in life was to marry a man—as if he’d solve all her problems and whisk her away to a life of luxury. No, thank you.
He needed someone with a backbone.
Actually, scratch that, he just needed to get his rocks off and a woman who hated him was perfect for those purposes.
“To get divorced, they have to be married first.” Cait turned up her nose and shielded her eyes from the slanted rays of sunlight streaming through the forest. “I only care about the beginning, not the end.”
Sam sniffed around a fencepost and marked his territory, but he was well-behaved, not pulling or tugging. What a calm dog with such presence.
“Cynical, much?” he grumbled at his sister, who until last Christmas, had merely existed in a loveless marriage.
“Nope, not at all.” She beamed at him, tugging his sleeve. “This place is a fresh start for me and Brian. So far above the pollution of the big city. The scent of mountain pine, the natural beauty, and a community of good people. It’ll be refreshing to put down roots in a place where we can make a difference.”
“For you, but not for me,” Grady said. “A rolling stone gathers no moss.”
“If you’re really a rolling stone, then why did you quit smokejumping?” Cait angled her all-seeing face and cornered Grady in front of the stepping stones crossing the stream.
Sam lapped at the water while squirrels in the trees above them sounded the alarm. The dog’s ears perked, but he didn’t lunge or bark.
“I didn’t quit smokejumping,” Grady said. He brushed by her and took long lanky steps across the stream. “I’m skipping this season, that’s all.”
Yeah, yeah, yeah, that was what he told himself. He was good at what he did, and nothing could beat the excitement and exhilaration of parachuting into a firestorm, prepared to do battle with an angry Mother Nature.
&nb
sp; Nothing except for that last jump where things had gone horribly wrong.
“Wow, you’re really going to leave me on this side of the creek?” Cait called, unable to decide on a path for her pregnant body to take across the slippery rocks.
For a moment, smoke and flames clouded his vision. Worse than the images were the sounds—the loud cracks, pops, and greedy snap of red, orange, and gold, consuming everything in its path. And the smells—thick, acrid smoke digging into the nostrils, gagging soot and choking ashes.
He blinked at the sound of her voice, and then his eyes widened. A plume of smoke rose over the treetops from the direction of his parents’ cabin.
“Smoke.” He bounded over the creek back the way they came. “Stay back.”
“What’s happening?” Cait’s voice shrieked from behind him. “Is there a fire?”
“Call 9-1-1 if you can get a signal,” he shouted, hoping that the new cell towers were operational.
Without waiting for her to answer, he dashed toward the cabin. This couldn’t be happening. Shouldn’t be happening.
His parents already lost their house in a fire and had only recently finished rebuilding. How was it fair for them to lose their mountain cabin?
All because he’d distracted Cait who had probably been cooking dinner.
Sam bounded beside him and when they reached the cabin, it was engulfed in crackling flames and thick with smoke.
“No!” Grady shouted as he ran toward the fire.
Chapter Ten
After her shower, Linx plucked Ginger from her doggy bed and changed the sheets and towels. She warmed up a wipe under the faucet and wiped the puppy’s bottom to stimulate her bladder and bowel movement. Normally, a mother dog would lick them and consume the results, but poor little Ginger was orphaned and had to sleep with a hot water bottle.
Linx fed her every two hours, making sure to smother her with plenty of attention, but she wasn’t a good enough substitute mom for the puppy, who cried and whined when uncomfortable.
“I shouldn’t have left you alone.” Guilt swarmed Linx that she’d gone to satisfy her own physical desires while leaving little Ginger without comfort.
Summer Love Puppy: The Hart Family (Have A Hart Book 6) Page 6