Keeping Cole's Promise

by Cheryl Harper

  David glanced at Cole and then said, “As always, we’re hampered by resources. All the prisons currently involved are at capacity for every class, and we have a list of shelters waiting for spots.”

  “Is every prison in Texas involved?” Rebecca asked. “Do you have more dogs than you can adopt out?”

  David shook his head. “No and no. But it’s a hard sell, fund-raising for prisoners and dogs. People always tell us how many other good causes there are out there.” He sighed. “And I get that, but when you see something like this, today, and the way it can change a man’s outlook on his life as well as give a dog a future, I can’t give up.”

  “You need a success story,” Hayley Michener said from her seat. “A man who’s successfully rehabilitated. You can find a hundred happy families with dogs from the program, I have no doubt. But you need someone to speak for the men here.” She glanced at Cole.

  “Yeah, wonder where we could find one of those. On the front page of the newspaper?” Rebecca turned her back on Hayley. Cole studied her irate expression and fought the urge to rub the ache right over his heart. Rebecca thought he’d already proven he was rehabilitated and she was ready to fight his enemies. If they ever figured out how to make anything between them work, her loyalty would be priceless. Unforgettable. Worth some trouble.

  “Here’s what you do, David. Put together a proposal. Send it to this guy. He’s always looking for good places to spend our money.” Rebecca offered him a card with Will Barnes’s name on it. “We are going to help.”

  David took the card and tapped it against his hand. “Just like that? No trade required? Like, if I don’t help the shelter, are you still committed?”

  Sarah stopped sniffing and stood tall. “Hey, we’re committed. My shelter is doing fine, even if I want this for my dogs. Do the proposal. I’ll give you a list of everything you need to make sure Will says yes. I know him pretty well. Call the shelter.”

  David laughed. “Okay, I will.” Then he turned to Cole. “Interested in being a spokesperson or something?”

  Cole shook his head violently. There was no way he would be speaking on behalf of anyone.

  “We’ll work on him,” Rebecca said as she offered David her hand. “This has been amazing.”

  Instead of a handshake, Sarah hugged David. “You call me. I can tell you how to get whatever you need from these softies. And Cole’s in,” she said as Rebecca dragged her toward the doorway.

  When the door banged shut behind them, Cole said, “Seriously, man, find another spokesperson.”

  “I’ll try,” David said as he stacked the chairs, “but I’ll guarantee I won’t find anyone who can match you.”

  “You don’t even know how it’s going for me. Last week, I was a police suspect and am single-handedly destroying a woman’s career.” He shot a look at the reporter who was loitering by the door.

  “But you also made friends with donors who could change the life of Prison Partners forever.” David propped his hands on his hips. “You know how often we talked about expanding this, identifying new prisons and even programs in other states.”

  Cole rubbed his forehead, thinking of all the networks Sarah, Jen, Stephanie and Rebecca had established. “Yeah, they could help you out with that. Not with one check, but they have enough smarts and determination to change things.”

  David clapped his hand on Cole’s shoulder. “So I gotta say thanks to you. For the connection. Then I’ve got to polish up the fund-raising request I’ve been using since I took over Prison Partners. It could work this time.”

  Cole nodded. “Yeah, but you better call Sarah. She likes to help. You know where to find me if you need me.”

  “I’m going to set up some interviews, maybe TV. You’ll be available?” The gleam in David’s eyes was impossible to miss.

  Cole could imagine the endless hours of conversation Sarah would commit to if he hesitated. “Let’s do one, see how it goes. Gotta keep the boss happy.”

  When David chuckled, Cole tried to figure out when he’d become such a pushover. It had to do with the day he’d walked into Paws for Love, that much he knew. They shook hands and Cole headed for the door.

  Hayley Michener seemed wrung out from all the emotion in the room. Her face matched his energy level, but she held out a hand to prevent him from opening the door. “Hey, thank you for getting me in. This story is going to be awesome.” She tried an awkward thumbs-up.

  “It better be.” Cole waited for her to step aside and then pushed open the door.

  Hayley made a beeline for David, her notebook raised. Outside, Cole braced his hands on his knees to catch his breath. Then he realized that he’d done it, the thing he’d been fearing ever since he left this place. He’d returned on his own terms. And he’d survived. Whatever happened next, he’d made the effort.

  If someone had told him he’d actually agree to do something to help Travis the day he’d left this place, Cole would have assumed that person needed a psych evaluation.

  There were only two women in the world who could have forced him to do this, leaving him feeling as weak as a kitten and...

  Cole straightened and walked toward Sarah and the van while he tested the word.

  Proud.

  Unwilling to study his feelings too closely, Cole asked, “Rebecca on her way to work?”

  Sarah was collapsed against the side of the van as if she lacked the energy to climb inside. “Yeah. She’s got a big day ahead.” She held out her hand. “Here. You drive. I’m not up to it.”

  Cole waited for her to climb into the passenger seat before he closed the door behind her. She seemed as exhausted as he felt. He wanted to know what was going on with Rebecca.

  Then he remembered he was going to keep his distance.

  When they were on the highway headed home, Sarah took out her cell phone. The mystery of who she was calling didn’t last long. “Hey, I need you to call David Thomas today, make sure he’s working on a proposal for Rebecca.” There was a brief pause. “Then put a note on every other day in your calendar to check in with him.”

  Will must have thought that schedule was excessive, because Sarah frowned. “This is important to me.” She straightened in her seat. “Yeah, it was amazing. You and I, we’re going to brainstorm some ideas tonight. Prison Partners will be expanding.” She said it with certainty. Then she grinned. “I knew I could count on you, baby. Call me later.” Sarah ended the call with a happy grin.

  Cole was about as uncomfortable as an employee could get while listening to his boss call someone “baby,” but the reminder that the ball was rolling filled him with new energy. “Spokesperson. You think that will make a difference?” He knew he didn’t sound convinced.

  Sarah laughed. “Yeah, I do. Anonymous asks will fail most of the time.” She turned to face him. “Add a name and a story and show how small contributions matter, and people have a hard time forgetting.” She tilted her head. “Kinda like you and Eric. Every now and then for the rest of your life, you’ll wonder how he turned out. That’s human nature, to care about the people who come into our lives.”

  “Really?” Cole wondered if a scoff would be insubordination. “Human nature?”

  “I hope so.” Sarah pulled out a pen and an old envelope. “Someday I’m going to remember to put a notebook in this purse. Today is not that day.”

  One quick glance showed that she was making a numbered to-do list.

  “And someday, you are going to know what it feels like to make a difference to prisoners all over the state of Texas.” Sarah waited for him to look her way again. “And that’s going to be soon. How does that feel?”

  “Like breaking a promise, but doing the right thing,” Cole said quietly. Sarah’s quickly indrawn breath sounded like a sniffle, but he refused to look her way. If she was crying again, he’d have to pull o
ver so they could both recover.

  “Oh, wow,” she said, “that’s a bad spot.”

  Cole shook his head. “All my Mimi wanted was for me to stay out of trouble. The last week has proven I’m failing at that.” He gripped the steering wheel. “But I can’t come up with one thing I should have done differently.” That was a change. Always before, his regrets were numerous, but lately, they’d dwindled to only one: disappointing his grandmother, the one person who’d always been on his side. Caring exposed him to trouble, but it also meant he was never alone when that trouble arrived.

  Rebecca, who cared more than one person should, was withdrawing. He’d tried that. He could tell her it wouldn’t work.

  “Inviting the reporter was brilliant.” Sarah squeezed his shoulder.

  “I wish I could think of something else to try,” Cole murmured. “I can’t believe Rebecca’s quitting her program this way.” He stared hard at the road through the windshield.

  Sarah sighed. “If you think that, you’ve got it all wrong. Come to the school board meeting tonight. Make your voice heard.”

  Was Rebecca going to stand back and let others do her fighting for her? That was disappointing. She had said herself she wasn’t going to the meeting.

  Cole knew his disappointment was showing. Sarah rolled her eyes. “Man, you do not handle setbacks well. Gotta learn to get back up. Rebecca’s going to have her program and help her kids, one way or another. Shutting her out? Yeah, that’s an invitation for her to get creative.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “This attitude of yours...it makes me think of a man who’s disappointed in someone more important than a coworker.” She tilted her head. “Something you want to tell me?”

  “Nope.” Cole focused on the road, a confused jumble of thoughts about what Rebecca’s next move might be distracting him. She needed the school to get to the kids. If the principal was going to shut the program down permanently, what kind of options did that leave her?

  The rest of the trip to the shelter was filled with Sarah’s quiet scribbling and Cole’s deep thoughts. When he pulled in, only one car other than Shelly’s was in the parking lot.

  “Thought we were closed for visitors this morning.”

  Because they were shorthanded and mornings were slow during the workweek, Sarah had insisted Shelly put up a sign asking visitors to return in the afternoon.

  “Yeah, there must be some kind of emergency.” The quiet drive had restored some of Sarah’s energy apparently, because she was out of the van and rushing for the door before Cole’s feet hit the ground.

  Then he heard it, the sad howl of a theatrical beagle.

  Freddie was back.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “HEY, BOSS,” SHELLY said from behind the desk. “I’m so glad you’re back. We’ve got a situation with the Scotts and Freddie.”

  Howling Freddie and his dismayed owners stood across from her. The way Mrs. Scott clapped her hands over her ears and flinched from the dog suggested things weren’t going well with the adoption.

  Freddie’s howls changed to yips interspersed with hoarse coughs as Cole knelt down beside him. “What’s up, Fred?” Cole scratched the dog’s chin and tried to slip his finger under Freddie’s collar. When it was impossible, his anger ticked up a notch. “Think this is too tight for you, boy.” He quickly loosened the collar and ruffled Freddie’s ears. “Now you can bark even louder.” His scowl would have intimidated anyone.

  “He pulls out of the collar unless it’s that tight. I chased him all over the park on our first walk.” Mr. Scott clutched the leash tightly. “I should have let him go.”

  The atmosphere in the room immediately cooled. Ice-cold. Cole was pretty sure it wasn’t all coming from him.

  “Let him go.” Sarah repeated it carefully. “As in run away or abandon him in the park?”

  “In less than a week, that dog has destroyed a dining room table, six pairs of shoes, four lamps and every single rug in the house,” Mrs. Scott snapped. “You should have warned us he had behavior issues.”

  “He’s wild. Just wild.” Mr. Scott pointed at Freddie, who was now wildly happy. His back leg was thumping in time with Cole’s scratching fingers.

  “Freddie is still learning,” Shelly said with a forced smile. “You could take some obedience classes together.”

  Cole could almost see the bright light of an idea appear in Sarah’s brain. She muttered, “Make a note. Obedience classes. Puppy classes. You could charge a fee for training.” Then she pasted on a patient expression. “Why are you here?”

  Cole’s lips were tight as he stood. He wasn’t happy with the way the Scotts had treated Freddie. He didn’t want to let them walk out with his dog again.

  Then he realized that was the kind of thinking that would make it impossible to get over Freddie.

  “We’re returning him.” Mrs. Scott tipped her chin up. “We’ll either take our adoption fee back or we’d be happy to try another dog, one with some manners.” She sniffed and shook her head. “Do you have any of those?”

  Sarah’s chuckle wasn’t friendly. “He’s anxious, in a new place, after he’s been bounced in and out of homes. He needs some time. I thought you knew something about dogs.”

  “We had outside dogs. We have a big yard. Freddie won’t stay outside because he howls.” Mr. Scott waved a hand. “But inside, he’s destroying the place. There’s no solution.”

  “Patience is the solution,” Cole said, and scooped up Freddie in his arms. “We’re going outside while you figure this out.”

  He was moving as quickly as he could, but not quite fast enough to escape the insult directed at him.

  “Is he dangerous?” Mrs. Scott asked, one hand pressed to her chest. “He seems so angry. We didn’t want to approach him before we knew about his record.” She whispered the last word. “But now...”

  Cole wanted to hear Sarah’s answer, so he slowed his march.

  “Of course not,” Sarah snapped. “Sign this, and we’ll take Freddie from you. We will not be refunding the adoption fee and you will not be taking another dog home.” Sarah’s tone was flat and brooked no argument.

  Mr. Scott decided to bluster anyway. “Now, wait a minute. We paid you for a dog. This is not proper.”

  Sarah pointed. “Check your original contract. There will be no refunds of adoption fees. Those went to cover the costs of vaccinations.”

  “What about another dog, then?” Mr. Scott looked at his wife. “We promised the grandkids.”

  Mrs. Scott’s voice dripped icicles. “This is our fault? You give us a wild dog and it’s our fault we can’t live with him.”

  Shelly didn’t answer, but every bit of her body language screamed “yep.”

  Sarah held her hand out toward the door to suggest they might want to step through it. “Sign this surrender contract and you can be on your way.”

  Mr. Scott snorted. “We won’t be signing and this isn’t the last you’ve heard from us. A place like this, what did we expect? Criminals in every corner.” Mr. Scott put one hand on his wife’s back and urged her out the door.

  While Shelly and Sarah scribbled notes furiously on the unsigned contract, Cole made his escape outside.

  “Looks like you’re here for a while, Fred.” He set the dog down, uncertain of how long Freddie had been inside, when he’d been fed or what sort of care he’d gotten. Instead of running away for a happy investigation of his old yard, Freddie jumped up and put his feet on Cole’s knees. Relieved, Cole picked the dog up and held him close to his chest. “What a day.”

  All he’d dreamed of while he was in prison was control. Cole wanted to make decisions about his own life, what he’d do every day and how he felt about that. This day had been out of control in almost every way. He’d gone to Travis under orders from his boss, and his emotions were
rioting from pride to fear to anger to relief. It was peaceful to sit there in the cool sunshine holding a happy dog.

  For one single moment, he was exactly where he wanted to be, doing what he wanted to do, and he knew how he felt about it. “I’m happy to see you again, Fred.”

  The dog sighed as he rested his head on Cole’s chest, so he took that as Freddie’s agreement.

  He lost track of time while they sat there. When Sarah sat next to them with a delicate thump, he remembered he was supposed to be working. “Guess I’ll need to set a spot for Freddie. Want new photos?” He wasn’t going to let himself worry about what would happen when the next family wanted to take Freddie home. This was the job. For now, he’d be happy.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” Sarah said as she ran a hand over Freddie’s head, dodging his pink tongue. “I wish you could take him.”

  Cole bent to let the dog down on the grass. This time, Freddie took off for the fence line like a shot, ready to patrol. “Yeah, well...I can’t.” He couldn’t. His trailer still wouldn’t work for Freddie. The dog needed an owner who wasn’t perched on the edge of disaster. Paying for everything Freddie needed would wipe him out. “But he’s here now.”

  “We’ll make sure it’s the right fit the next time,” Sarah promised.

  Cole watched Freddie prancing and wondered how she could manage any optimism.

  Sarah punched Cole’s arm lightly. “Listen, don’t you give up on...Freddie, or me, or anyone in this town, not yet. It’s too soon. I know whereof I speak, mister. There are so many good people in this place. All you gotta do is find them.” She held his stare and nodded slowly.

  Cole didn’t answer. There was work to do. He’d do it. And until the right people walked in the door, he’d work with Freddie, improve his manners. The next adoption would stick and he’d count it a happy ending. Rebecca would find her own way and he’d adjust. This was the point where lots of practice putting one foot in front of the other no matter what came in handy.

  For the rest of the hours he spent at Paws for Love, Cole worked hard to make up for lost time. He and Shelly cleaned and washed dogs and cats, and by the time he gave Freddie his last afternoon treat, Cole was approaching normal.