One Day in Apple Grove

by C. H. Admirand

  “My dad was at that game.” He couldn’t keep the emotion from his voice. “Scotty was an amazingly gifted quarterback.”

  “I remember everyone talking about it. It was the first time we’d ever had a serious injury on the football field,” Cait added.

  “Scotty went through years of therapy and never gave up. He was the one to approach his dad about setting up the riding school.”

  “I’m so proud to be a part of this,” she said. “Even if it’s just a small part.”

  “Don’t diminish what Mulcahys is doing to make it happen.”

  “Thanks, Jack.” After a few moments of silence, she asked, “So, how are you doing today?”

  “I just had a complication fall into my lap.”

  “Oh?”

  He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that one word. “Yeah,” he said quickly before she could say anything else. “I just talked to my mom.”

  “How is she?”

  “She sounds great. She’s looking forward to visiting.”

  “When will they arrive?”

  He cleared his throat. “Two weeks.”

  “Don’t you want to see them?”

  “I do…it’s just that I’d gotten used to being on my own.”

  “Ah. I’ve never had the pleasure of living on my own. It’s on my list of things to do.”

  “I’ve always wanted to have brothers or sisters,” Jack told her, not even stopping to wonder why he’d shared that with her. “But while I’m used to being alone, now that I have Jamie, things are different.”

  Her laugh was light and airy, a happy sound that trilled across the phone line. “There were times when I’d have gladly traded Gracie for a puppy.”

  “Did you tell her that?”

  “Oh yeah, she didn’t like the idea,” Cait confided. “Didn’t speak to me for three whole days that time.”

  “Did you guys argue often?”

  “Nah,” she told him. “Every other day or so.”

  He laughed before asking, “You’re kidding right?”

  She snickered. “Nope. We had these off-white quilted vinyl chests that mom got for us secondhand. We used to keep our important stuff in there, and every time we argued, one of us would move our chest out into the hallway and holler at the top of our lungs that we were through and we wanted a new roommate.”

  “Then what happened?”

  She sighed. “Meg would come in and mediate, and by the time she was through, one of us would end up apologizing to the other. I was never really sure how she managed that feat.”

  “I think you and Grace probably owe Meg more than you imagine.”

  She fell silent, leaving him to wonder if he should have kept that thought to himself, but so many years listening while Meg confided that worry wouldn’t let him. Finally, she sighed and said, “You’re right, and I know it. I’m trying to make things up to her now. I just finished the first set of shelves for their nursery and am working on a rocking chair for Meg. It’s going to be a surprise, so don’t say anything, OK?”

  “Your secret’s safe with me, Cait.”

  “Thanks, Jack. I’m really excited about the design—it’s my first rocking chair.”

  “You’re an amazing woman, Caitlin Mulcahy.”

  “Thanks for saying that,” she said.

  “I’m not just saying it,” he told her. “I mean it.”

  “You can come see it if you want.”

  “You’ve started building it already?”

  “It’s in our shed—in my wood shop.”

  “I’d love to. You mentioned the design. Is there something different about this chair?”

  “Meg’s shorter than the average woman. If you’ve ever tried out different rocking chairs, you’d notice that they’re designed for someone with longer legs.”

  “I can’t say that I have. It sounds like a wonderful gift…a thoughtful one from your heart. Will I see you later?”

  “I wasn’t sure you wanted to,” Cait said.

  “I do,” he reassured her. “I’ll call you in between patients.”

  “OK. Bye, Jack.”

  “Bye, Cait.”

  He was just coming out of his office when the bell on the front door jingled. Mrs. Sweeney was up and welcoming Mrs. Hawkins when the phone rang again. “I’ll get it, Mrs. Sweeney. Doc Gannon.”

  “It’s Mitch,” the sheriff said. “Can I talk to you?”

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  “When you finish up with appointments for today, stop by my office.”

  “Sounds serious. Can you give me a hint as to what this is about?”

  “Not over the phone. See you around five-ish?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Mrs. Sweeney was settled at her desk, going over the appointment schedule as Jack disconnected. He could tell she wanted to know what was going on, but knew she wouldn’t ask; she could be patient waiting for Jack to confide in her. Sometimes he did…and sometimes he didn’t.

  He knocked on the examining room door and waited for Mrs. Hawkins to answer. “Now,” he said, walking into the room, “what seems to be bothering you today?”

  “I hurt my wrist. I’m not sure if it’s sprained or strained.”

  “Let’s take a look.”

  A few hours later, he’d finished for the day. He closed the door behind him and walked down Main Street. He had an appointment to speak with the sheriff. He should have asked if it was official business or personal. But Mitch would have said so, wouldn’t he?

  When Rhonda poked her head out of the front door to the Apple Grove Gazette’s office and called a hello, he returned the greeting. Enjoying the short walk down the street, he looked around him, reassured by the simple fact that Main Street hadn’t changed; it still looked the same as it had as far back as he could remember. He loved the change of seasons and watching the progress. The warmer temperatures coaxed the leaf buds till they unfurled and were now wide, glossy, green leaves.

  He stopped and looked both ways before crossing Dog Hollow Road. There might have been a few subtle changes, a new bit of sidewalk replacing an old, cracked section. He noticed the raw patch where Cait’s truck had scraped the bark on one of the maples before letting his gaze settle on the Knitting Room across the street. He’d heard from the McCormack sisters yesterday morning that Melanie Culpepper was thinking of starting up a knitting group during the day, now that her boys were a little older. Odd to think that what he’d heard had been the town’s local Internet café for the last few years would once again be used for knitting.

  Mulcahys was still open; he could see Grace sitting at her desk. “Still hard at work,” he mused, “keeping the family business going.”

  The trees lining the street shaded the way and had him thinking back to Miss Trudi’s description of what it looked like right after the Second World War when each one of the trees had had yellow ribbons wrapped around them, tied up in a bow, for all of the returning GIs.

  “Hi, Doc!” He looked up, surprised that he’d passed Murphy’s Market and was already in front of the diner.

  “Hi, Kate.”

  “Stopping by for dinner?”

  “No, on my way to see Mitch.”

  “We haven’t seen you for coffee lately,” she told him, standing in the doorway to the diner.

  “It’s been hectic.”

  “See you tomorrow?”

  “I’m not sure, depends on Jamie.”

  Her knowing smile had him wondering if word was out about him and Cait. Instead of coming right out and asking, she threw him for a loop, distracting him. “How is the puppy doing?”

  “He’s a pistol, full of energy, likes to tear apart my laundry, but he’s great company.”

  “He’s lucky you found him,” she said before looking over her shoulder when
someone called her name from inside the diner. “I’ve got to go.”

  Honey B.’s salon closed up early these days, so she wouldn’t overdo it again. By the time Jack’d crossed Apple Grove Road, he was starting to worry about what Mitch wanted. He walked into the sheriff’s office and called out, “You in the back, Mitch?”

  “Yeah.”

  Hmm…one word response. Not out of the ordinary for Mitch, but not what he expected.

  Mitch’s door was open, like usual, so Jack knocked on the doorjamb. “So, what’s so important that you couldn’t tell me over the phone?”

  “Not couldn’t,” Mitch said. “Wanted to tell you face-to-face.”

  “What?”

  “Someone called about the puppy you and Caitlin found out on Eden Church Road.”

  Recoiling like he’d just taken a blow to the solar plexus, he couldn’t get any air in or out.

  “Look, I know it’s been days and you thought no one would come looking for him,” Mitch said, “but if this is truly his owner, then she must have been beside herself looking for him.”

  “Why didn’t she come looking right away?”

  “Not sure, not the point.”

  “You’re right,” he said, resigned to the inevitable. “When is she coming?”

  “She’ll be here in an hour. Can you come back with the dog?”

  Give up Jamie? His new best friend, the puppy he’d rearranged his life for? The black ball of fluff that curled up against him in the middle of the night for comfort? “Uh…yeah, yes. I’ll come back.”

  Now that he knew what Mitch wanted, he wished he’d told him that he had a few house calls tonight. Mitch would never know…would he? Well, he thought, it didn’t matter now. Not much mattered now; he was going to have to say good-bye to his new best friend.

  He dragged his feet all the way back to his office and didn’t look up this time, even when he heard his name being called. Life wasn’t fair. Caitlin had lived through God knows what last night because of him, and now…now…they’d have to give up Jamie too.

  He had to call Cait. She’d want to be there when he returned Jamie to his rightful owner, wouldn’t she?

  Walking around the back of his office, he dialed her number, unsure of how to tell her the news. When she answered, he blurted it out. “Jamie’s owner wants him back.”

  The silence hung in the air between them until he thought he’d go quietly insane. Finally he asked, “Cait, are you there?”

  “Yes. Yes, I’m here. There’s no mistake?”

  “Mitch just told me. She’ll be here in an hour.” He had to pause to clear his throat. “Will you go with me when I bring him to the sheriff’s office?”

  “I’ll meet you at your house.”

  “Thanks, Cait.”

  Chapter 13

  Caitlin pulled up into Jack’s driveway behind his Jeep and got out. She wouldn’t let herself think about losing Jamie…about Jack losing Jamie. Were they too old to claim finders-keepers and make his former owner go home?

  And how come Jamie’s owner took a whole week to try to find him? She wasn’t giving up on the hope that Jack could keep the puppy.

  She knocked on the back door and opened it when Jack called out to her. He was sitting in the middle of the floor with Jamie in his lap. Jamie was licking Jack’s face as if he hadn’t seen him in days, instead of just that morning.

  Not knowing what to say to Jack, she called out to the dog, “Hey, Jamie!”

  He lifted his head, yipped, and leaped off Jack, bounding to the back door to say hello. When she bent to scratch his head, she heard Jack getting up, but she couldn’t bear to look at him yet, knowing she’d see the aching sadness she felt reflected in his eyes.

  “Thanks for coming…I didn’t know what to do.”

  Taking her cue that she had to be the practical one and let Jack start the separation process—she could cry later—she offered, “How about if I pack up his bed, his toys, his food, and his treats?”

  “What am I going to do?”

  She finally looked up at him and wished she hadn’t. Stark devastation stared at her from lifeless blue eyes. “Take him outside and toss the ball. He’ll like that and get some of his energy out for the ride to town.”

  “Cait,” he said, then hesitated. “I don’t know if I can—”

  “You can do this,” she told him.

  “But, Cait—”

  “No buts, Gannon,” she ground out. “You gave him the temporary home he needed. He won’t forget you.”

  Jack nodded and walked to the back door, Jamie hot on his heels.

  She could hear the happy barking as the dog demanded Jack throw the ball. Drawing the ache inside of her, she got down to business, packing everything up. “You are one lucky dog, Jamie,” she whispered, emptying the pantry of dog food and treats. When she was finished, she looked at the clock and shrugged. They were going to be late…too bad, she thought. For once in her life, Cait didn’t care.

  “OK, guys,” she called out, stepping onto the deck.

  With a nod, Jack picked up the leash he’d brought outside and clipped it onto Jamie’s collar.

  “Red is definitely his color,” Cait said. When he didn’t say anything, she decided she’d drive, so Jack and Jamie could sit together.

  “OK,” she said, “here’s the deal. I’ll drive your Jeep and you and Jamie can ride shotgun.”

  “Thanks.”

  She was so going to cry buckets later; right now, she’d do what she had to and drive them to town.

  They arrived at the sheriff’s office all too soon. Jack and Jamie got out first and walked around to the back, so Jamie could sniff at the privet hedge that outlined the parking lot behind the building.

  “Caitlin,” the sheriff called out as she stood next to the Jeep waiting for Jack to come back. “Where’s Jack?”

  “Walking Jamie so he doesn’t pee in your office.”

  Mitch nodded and motioned for her to come inside, but she wasn’t going until he answered a question. “How do you know this person is Jamie’s owner?”

  He hesitated, then said, “She showed me his adoption papers. She got him from a shelter in Newark.”

  “But he’s a black dog…maybe she’s confused him with another little black dog.”

  He shook his head. “The timing’s right and she had a photo.” He paused. “Hear her out before you get your Irish up, Mulcahy.”

  Chastised, she realized she’d been doing just that. “Boy you do know me,” she grumbled. “But if you could see how happy Jamie is at Jack’s—”

  “Good to hear, but not the point.”

  “Sheriff.”

  Mitch acknowledged Jack’s greeting with a nod and bent to pet Jamie. “He looks like he’d be a great dog.”

  “He is.” Jack looked at Cait and said, “Let’s get this over with.”

  Cait agreed. It was time. She walked inside and her first thought was that the woman was too well dressed to own a dog. The woman’s sharp intake of breath and beaming smile had that thought shriveling up and dying. Dogs don’t care what you wear; they respond to love and this woman obviously loved Jamie.

  “Crackers,” she cried, rushing over to hug the puppy.

  Jamie backed up and hid behind Jack. The woman pulled up short and looked from Jack to Jamie and back again. “Why is he hiding from me?”

  Keeping her voice as neutral as possible, Caitlin said, “Good question. Maybe he doesn’t remember you. How long did you have him before he ran away?”

  The woman’s hand went to her throat and she toyed with her pearls. “I…uh…” The hesitation bothered Cait, and she knew without looking that it would bother Jack too.

  “Not long.”

  “He doesn’t seem to know you,” Jack said at last.

  “He’s mine,” she ins
isted. “I have his adoption papers with his picture on it.”

  Still not convinced or ready to turn the dog over, Caitlin asked, “Sheriff, could I talk to you a minute while Jamie gets reacquainted with his owner?”

  Mitch nodded and motioned for her to follow him back to his office. When they got there, she asked him to close the door. “What’s going on?” she demanded.

  He drew in a deep breath, and for a moment, she thought he was going to lay into her. She’d never been on the wrong side of Sheriff Wallace before, but her sister Meg had. Those tales alone had her backing up a step.

  “You want to rephrase that question, Caitlin?”

  “Um…yes. Sorry, Mitch. But can’t you see how much that dog loves Jack? And Jack…he loves that dog.”

  Mitch nodded. “And so do you, I get that. But the law’s the law. He belongs to Ms. Blackwood, and while she’s grateful that Jack has cared for Jamie, she wants him back.”

  “There has to be more to the story.”

  “If there is, I haven’t been able to get to the bottom of it yet. Legally, my hands are tied.”

  She whirled around and had her hand pressed to the door before she realized that she wasn’t helping the situation. She turned back. “I’m sorry…it’s just that it seems so wrong.”

  “I know. Let’s finish this.”

  He was right. “OK.” She let him open the door and walked down the hall to where Jack was now down on one knee petting Jamie, encouraging him to go to Ms. Blackwell. Something just seemed off…wrong. She’d have to let it go for now, but she’d be calling Rhonda over at the Gazette to help her dig up all of the information they could about the diva in the designer suit and pearls.

  With a plan firmly in mind, she felt better. Action instead of reaction, her dad would be proud. “Hey, Jamie,” Cait said, calling attention to herself, wanting to see the redhead’s reaction when Jamie listened to Cait and not the other woman.

  As expected, the little puppy tugged at his leash to get to her. Jack grinned and shook his head. “We’ve been working on his manners, but he forgets them when he sees someone he loves.”

  Jack’s words went straight to her heart; she knew how hard this was for him.