It had been fun, though. She and Tanner needed to have more fun—the way they had when they were younger. This was more of a wake-up call than anything else—a message that she and Tanner could lighten up a little.
Of course, there’d be no time for fun today. Destry was probably already heading back to town. She imagined he’d be shoveling mud from someone’s basement within the next twenty minutes or so.
She walked back to the kitchen to find Tanner stirring a pot on the stove. “Your grandpa had me make this beef stew to take down to the church.” In past years, Rosie’s grandma and grandpa had always been the first on the scene when disaster struck.
Rosie glanced at the clock. It was almost noon. “I’ll go with you. They’re bound to need more help.” She poured the stew into Grandma’s slow cooker to keep it warm in case it ended up sitting on a table all afternoon. There was no telling how many people would bring food.
Tanner carried the slow cooker to his truck. “I guess we’ll have to postpone our ring shopping.”
Rosie followed him, trying not to think of citrine gems. She remembered her vow to have more fun with Tanner. “We should play some arcade games after we’re done at the jewelry store.”
Tanner scrunched his nose as he opened the door for her. “Arcade games? After we buy your engagement ring?”
Rosie slid into the passenger seat and buckled her belt, wondering how to get Tanner on board with her new idea. “I thought we could play for a half-hour or so. Everything’s been so serious lately.”
Tanner closed her door and went around to his side. “I was hoping to go to the bank after we went to the jewelry store.”
Her hopes sank. “I guess it’s about time we applied for a loan together.”
“It’ll be harder now that you don’t have a car,” Tanner said. “But if you can, hold off buying one until after we get the loan. I can give you rides to school.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“You’ll need all the money in your savings account for the down payment. The bigger the down payment, the better the loan.”
Rosie swallowed, wishing she didn’t have to tell him. He was so much better with money than she was. “I don’t have that much in my savings. It might not even be enough to buy a bicycle.”
Tanner paused before he started the car, looking shocked. “But you haven’t had a car payment for over a year. I thought you were saving your money.”
“I was, but things kept cropping up. I had to buy a headstone for Grandma. It was too expensive for Grandpa to buy on his own, and he wouldn’t ask Mom or Uncle Jeff since they paid for the other funeral expenses. Then there were a bunch of little things I guess—vet bills, satellite TV for Grandpa.” She couldn’t say where all of it had gone.
His bottom lip jutted out. “That’s okay. We’ll just have to find the money some other way.” He shifted the car into drive and splashed through the puddles on the driveway.
Rosie squeezed his bicep, trying to defuse the anger that she could feel brewing. With everything going on with Destry, and now their finances, she worried the whole rest of the day would be ruined with his pouting. “I’m afraid I’m getting the better end of this deal.”
Tanner stopped the car and reached to kiss her softly on the lips. “Believe me, Rosie, I’m getting the better deal.” He gazed at her for a second. Then he put the car back in gear and drove toward the highway.
Rosie wondered if he really felt like he was getting the better deal or if he said that because it was the right thing to say. Would she ever know Tanner as well as her grandparents had known each other—where they could predict each others’ reactions well enough that they almost never said the wrong thing?
She stilled her bouncing foot, trying to look more confident than she felt. “I’m sure I can come up with some more money.” She could give up satellite TV and stop eating out for lunch. With a little self-control, she could save a few hundred dollars, but Tanner probably expected more than that. She would need a lot more than self-control. A miracle would be nice.
Tanner’s expression remained unchanged. “Would you consider selling a few of your animals to good homes?”
Because of health issues and behavior problems, most of her pets were the kind she couldn’t give away, much less sell. If she did manage to sell them, they might not get the specialized care they needed. Tanner had a point, though. If she didn’t make some sacrifices, she might not be able to buy the ranch. Then her animals would all need new homes. “I’ll post a few for sale online and see what happens.”
“Good idea.”
Of all her pets, the emus were in the best shape. She had raised them both since they were young, and the female laid eggs regularly. “I guess I’ll start with the emus.”
“That’s what I was going to suggest. Not that they’ll be easy to sell.” Tanner had gotten in more than one tussle with her emus. They’d bit him two or three times.
She was just grateful he tolerated her obsession. Remembering her pledge to have more fun with him, she circled back to the original topic. “You know what we need? A good old-fashioned date, something that doesn’t involve work.” As the side of his lips turned down, she added. “It doesn’t have to be expensive.”
He seemed to consider the idea. “After things dry up, we could go four-wheeling.” He sounded less than enthusiastic.
“I’d like that,” Rosie said, remembering how she’d once ridden behind Tanner on the four-wheeler, holding onto him as he raced through the gullies behind his parents’ ranch.
The gray mass of clouds had moved off into the distance, and streams of light filtered through them, resting on Mount Morris. It seemed a sign of hope. Everything was going to work out.
She watched cattle grazing near temporary ponds. Their footprints sunk into the mud, dotting the ground with tiny puddles. Standing water lined the sides of the road, and here and there, Tanner had to drive through it. Rosie cringed each time. She explained how her car had stopped in flood waters like these, and he assured her that the water here wasn’t deep enough to carry them away.
When they passed Pecos Bill’s restaurant at the edge of town, she could tell things were bad. The neon signs remained dark, and a closed sign hung in the front door. “Looks like the power’s out,” Tanner said. “I might have to turn around and get my camping stove to keep the stew warm.”
“Let’s stop at the church first. People might be hungry.”
Tanner drove past three more closed businesses before arriving at the old white, steepled church. Years ago, the townspeople had built a red brick addition to the back of the building. The addition provided room for a dining hall and Sunday school classrooms. Cars crowded the parking lot to the side of the church, and Rosie spied Janessa carrying a stack of pillows through the doors. Rosie bit down on the inside of her cheek. She growled out her words, sounding almost as commanding as Grandpa on a bad day. “We should go somewhere else. It looks crowded here.”
Tanner nodded toward an empty parking space near the kitchen. “Looks like there’s room for us.” He pulled into the spot and then hefted the slow cooker from the back of the car.
“I can’t face Janessa today,” she said, but Tanner didn’t hear. The hum of a generator by the kitchen window overpowered her voice. She wanted to kick the thing.
Curling her hands into fists, Rosie followed Tanner inside, where people were already setting up temporary sleeping quarters. Cots and sleeping bags covered the floor. Stacks of boxes and bags lined the walls. In the middle of the hall, people—mostly children—ate or played board games at card tables. Janessa stood on the opposite side of the dining hall, and Rosie hoped she would stay there.
They found Farrah in the kitchen, pouring lemonade mix into a drink dispenser. “Am I ever glad to see you two.”
Rosie found a spot on the counter and plugged in her slow cooker. “Do you need some help in here?”
Farrah tossed the drink mix canister into the garbage. Her T-shirt
had ridden up her waist, and the tan skin of her back peeked out. “I haven’t had a break since last night when the police told us we needed to evacuate. They gave us two hours, and the only reason we got all our things moved out is because Destry came to help. If he isn’t the best thing that’s happened to our family, I don’t know what is. I guess you heard that our house washed away.”
So Rosie wasn’t the only one Destry had rescued that day. Telling herself she had no reason to be jealous of Farrah’s relationship with Destry, she lifted the lid from her slow cooker and stirred the stew. “I didn’t know about your house. I’m sorry.”
Farrah wiped her hands on the sides of her jeans, emphasizing the curve of her hips as she did so. “My insurance has already agreed to replace everything I lost. Destry says I should look at it as a chance to start over. It’s like we’re trading up for a better place.”
Beside Rosie, Tanner slowly exhaled. She could guess what he was thinking—that Destry was tricking the town into thinking he was a great philanthropist. “Do you have a place to stay?” he asked.
“My insurance company is putting us up at the Best Western in Copper City,” Farrah said. “It’ll be like a little vacation.”
She was staying at the Best Western, not at Destry’s house. At least one thing went right today, she thought, but then she caught herself. What did she care where they stayed? Destry wasn’t anyone special to her. “That sounds fun,” she said.
Farrah fanned herself with her hand. “It will be. And Destry is keeping our things in his spare rooms, so I can save the money the insurance is going to give me to rent a storage space.”
Rosie sent a quick glance toward Tanner. “That’s nice of him.” She was just starting to relax a bit, leaning against the counter, when Janessa hustled into the kitchen.
Rosie froze.
“The firemen were just in here looking for you, Ms. Curtis.” Janessa’s happy tone of voice—all sugar and fizz—made Rosie want to wring her neck. Instead, she gripped the edge of the counter and glared at the linoleum floor.
“Did they say what they needed her for?” Tanner asked. “Did it have something to do with her car?”
“No, but they were in a hurry to find her.” The girl spoke in excited tones—as if the firemen had a great surprise for Rosie.
“Thanks for letting us know,” Tanner said, in the same dull monotone he would use at funerals.
With shaking hands, Rosie pulled her phone from her pocket and checked the messages. Sure enough, there was a vague message from one of the firemen, saying he needed to talk to her. When she called him back, he didn’t answer.
“It could be something important,” Farrah said. “I’ll bet if you drive up Prickly Pear Drive, you’ll find them. The houses up there took the brunt of the flood.”
Tanner looked from Rosie to Farrah. “Sorry, we can’t stay and take over for you.”
It was only a mile up the hill to Prickly Pear Drive, but what a change in scenery it brought. Rosie gasped at the road and the lawns caked in a foot of mud. The destroyed homes were mostly small, made of pink brick or adobe. They were some of the oldest homes in town, occupying tiny, evenly-spaced lots.
Here and there, volunteers hauled heirloom furniture, photo albums, pet cages, and prescription bottles out of the tiny dwellings. Destry stood next to Alan and a few other high school boys, laughing and visiting, each of them wielding a shovel. When Destry noticed Rosie and Tanner, he waved and flashed a smile in their direction.
Rosie felt heat rise to her face as she grinned back. Then she remembered Tanner and clamped her lips together.
Tanner made the slightest movement with his hand. It was more of an acknowledgment than a wave, the kind Rosie might receive from the principal during a busy day at work.
“Ready, set, go,” Destry shouted. He and the boys went to work, scraping up mud as quickly as they could and throwing it into a nearby wheelbarrow. Rosie tried not to stare at the way his muscles flexed, or the way mud streaked the side of his face.
Tanner waved toward Joe Lancaster, a fireman he saw on the other side of the road—the same one who’d arrived too late to rescue her that morning. He had also assisted with her car accident last year. “Were you looking for Rosie?” Tanner asked.
The man waded through the mud toward them. “I sure was. We found something that might interest you, Ms. Curtis.”
Rosie hoped that they’d found her car and that the new beakers and graduated cylinders were still unbroken in the trunk, but maybe that was too much to hope for. She followed Joe to the fire engine, which sat idling at the side of the road.
Joe climbed up to the door behind the driver’s seat. The minute he opened it, high pitched barking rang in her ears. She should have known. This had nothing to do with her car, and everything to do with her reputation as an animal rescuer.
Out jumped the ugliest mutt Rosie had ever seen. His long brown fur looked more like a badly worn, shag carpet, than the coat of someone’s pet. She guessed his parents might have been a sheepdog and some sort of hound. Part of his ear was missing, and his red, swollen eye stared at her like something out of a zombie movie. He also had a gaping wound on his ear that oozed a mysterious liquid. That wasn’t the worst of it, though. The way he jumped up on Tanner and then on Rosie made it clear he’d never been trained. When he stood like that on his hind legs, he could reach all the way to Rosie’s shoulders. Even if she cleaned him up, very few people would want a dog that large.
“We found him over at the trailer park this morning,” Joe said. “From what I understand, he’s a stray, probably one from the city, dropped off on the side of the highway. I’d take him myself, but we already have two dogs.”
Tanner leaned on the side of the fire engine with his arms folded. “This guy might be a little more than Rosie can handle right now.” He was right. Taking on an injured animal would almost guarantee a big vet bill. She couldn’t pay a bill like that when she was supposed to be saving her money.
On the other hand, she couldn’t let the poor animal suffer. She stroked his fur, trying to imagine what he’d look like after a good grooming. “I can take him.”
“Rosie,” Tanner said, using his teacher voice again.
Joe looked from Tanner to her. “I’ll let you two discuss this on your own.” He picked up his shovel and hurried back to where Destry was slinging mud with the teenagers.
She caught Destry’s eye for a split second before he shifted his gaze. He’d been watching her—a fact that should not have pleased her as much as it did. She knelt next to the dog, forcing her focus back to the conversation. “He needs me, Tanner. He needs us.” No one else would take such an ugly dog.
Tanner looked down at his boots, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “We can’t save all the animals in the world, Rosie.”
She looped a finger through the make-shift collar the firemen had fashioned from a piece of rope. “We can save this one.”
Chapter 17
Even from twenty feet away, Destry could see the crease in Rosie’s forehead. The dog wagged its tail and tried to jump up on Tanner, who stood with his arms folded. Rosie pulled back on the make-shift collar and pushed down on the dog’s hind end, but it refused to sit.
Wondering why Rosie seemed so stressed, he sloshed through the mud and walked to her side. “Is there something I can do to help?”
She didn’t look at him. “No.” She clipped the word off short.
Tanner took a few steps back and leaned against the side of the fire engine. “You can take this dog off our hands.” He said it as if he were only half serious.
Destry held his hand out to the dog. Its tongue lolled off the side of its mouth and its tail wagged, despite its obvious need for medical care. He hadn’t given much thought to getting a dog, but now that Tanner mentioned it, it seemed a natural choice to have a dog out here in the country. Besides that, it might please Rosie.
Destry scratched under its chin, and t
he dog gazed up with its infected eyes. “I’d be happy to take him. I like his attitude.”
Rosie grinned. “Seriously?”
Tanner stepped forward, placing his hand on Rosie’s shoulder. “I was only kidding about you taking him, Destry. He’s going to need a lot of special care.”
Rosie took Tanner’s hand. “I think it’s a great idea,” she said. “The vet can teach him how to care for the dog’s problems, and if he needs any extra help, I’ll be right down the road.”
Trying to ignore the grisly wound on the dog’s ear, Destry patted its side. “I’d appreciate that.” Having never owned a dog, he was sure he would need extra help from Rosie—an even better reason to take him. He knelt to look for a tag. “Does he have a name?”
Rosie shook her head. The crease marks in her forehead had disappeared. “He’s a stray. People from the city sometimes drop dogs off around here when they get tired of them. They must think they’ll be happier where they can run free.”
Rosie leaned back to get a better look at the dog’s head. She scratched him under the neck. “You know what he looks like to me?”
“What?” Destry asked, wishing he could move closer to her. There’d been a few times that morning when he’d completely forgotten she was engaged. Now, with Tanner looming over them, it was hard to forget.
Rosie ruffled the fur on the dog’s side. “An old shag carpet.”
Destry combed his fingers through the matted fur. It did look like a filthy old carpet. He laughed. “Now there’s an idea for a name—Shaggy.”
Rosie laughed too. “Please, no. It’s too Scooby Doo”
Tanner chewed his gum with vengeance. “With that eye, he looks more like Dracula.”
Dracula was a clever name, but there was no way Destry could accept Tanner’s suggestion, not when Rosie’s approval hung on the line.
“How about a carpet brand,” Destry said, “something like StainMaster?”
Chemistry Lessons Page 14