Love Gone to the Dogs

by Margaret Daley

  Leah looked first at Gramps, then Margaret She was as surprised at Shane's reaction as they were. "I'll have a word with him. See what's going on."

  "Please, Leah, do. This isn't like him."

  Leah hurried after Shane, having to practically run to catch up with him. "Shane, we need to talk about this."

  At his front door he pivoted to face her. "About what? My mother shacking up with your grandfather? Or, is there something else you haven't told me? If I hadn't been at your house just now, when would you have told me?"

  "As I said, it wasn't my place. Do you think I condone my grandfather's behavior?"

  "I don't know. Do you?" His voice never rose above a quiet, controlled level, even though his words rang with anger.

  "My grandfather is an adult. I'm not his keeper. The same can be said for you and your mother."

  "It's obvious this doesn't bother you. I shouldn't be surprised. After all, I've not known you for long."

  "I didn't say I condone it. I said it's none of my business. They're two adults who are capable of making decisions for themselves. They're at least making a commitment to each other."

  "And we aren't?"

  Leah was aware that they were still standing on Shane's front porch. She could imagine Ned's binoculars trained on them as he tried to lip-read what they were saying. "We both made our decision at the beginning to keep things casual. That hasn't changed. You still keep your wife's picture on your desk. You're still wearing your wedding ring. And I still have my memories of my disastrous marriage. Gramps' and your mother's histories are different." She laid her hand on his arm, fighting the pain her declaration caused in the pit of her stomach.

  "Yes, different" His expression was closed as he stared at her. Then he shook himself loose and let himself into his house, closing the door behind him and shutting her out as effectively as his expression had seconds before.

  Nothing was working out as she had hoped. Hurt blossomed in her chest and threatened to squeeze off her next breath. She inhaled deep gulps of air to hold the pain at bay. It was time to cut her losses. She didn't belong in this town.

  * * *

  Shane sat at his desk and rubbed the back of his neck to ease the tension that had a clamp on him. This had been a long day, one he didn't want to repeat. His conversation with Leah had unsettled him. The pain and emotions he had felt after his wife's death were something he never wanted to experience again. He had thought the easiest way to avoid that kind of hurt was to avoid any relationship that would require a commitment that would elicit deep feelings on his part. He was wrong.

  Shane surged to his feet and began to pace his office. He hadn't counted on his emotions becoming tangled up with Leah. Now he could either walk away before he became any more involved, or he could try to persuade her that commitment wasn't a dirty word, that what had happened with her ex-husband wouldn't happen with them.

  Shane saw the picture of his wife on his desk and picked it up, realizing that Leah was right. This photograph had become a symbol to him over the years. But Sarah was his past. Did he want to remain living in the past?

  A knock followed quickly by another sounded at his door. Shane put the picture back in its place and turned. "Come in."

  The door was flung open, and suddenly his office was filled with people—Ned in the foreground with a paper in his hand. The man waved it in Shane's face, a triumphant look in his expression.

  "I've got the signatures. I demand a town meeting immediately to discuss the Taylor family."

  "Ned, you can't drive someone out of town just because you want to." Shane scanned the faces of the people in his office. Some diverted their gazes, staring instead at the floor, while a few took a couple of steps back from Ned.

  "I demand a town meeting." Ned again waved the paper in Shane's face. "These signatures say I will have my day."

  Shane's earlier tension multiplied tenfold. He wondered if he could start a petition to run Ned out of town. "Okay. I'll have to check when the town hall is available. If I can, I'll set one for two weeks from—"

  "The day after tomorrow," Ned cut in. "The town hall is open. I checked."

  "Okay," Shane said slowly. "But I'll be the one to inform Mrs. Taylor."

  "Are you sure? After your little discussion today, I wouldn't think you would be too eager to give her bad news."

  Shane clenched and unclenched his hands at his side. "What do you know?"

  "You two were so involved in your little discussion you didn't even know I was getting my mail."

  "Our mail isn't delivered until four o'clock. Why don't we call what you were doing the correct term—spying?"

  Ned drew himself up straight, his beer belly hanging over his belt. "I'm part of the neighborhood watch. It's my duty to know what's going on in the neighborhood."

  "When this is over, you and I will have a little discussion of what your duties are."

  Ned stomped out of the office, leaving Shane to try to compose himself before he went to see Leah. He stared at the photograph of his wife, twisting the wedding ring around on his finger. It was time to commit himself to a course of action.

  Chapter Ten

  Leah dragged the big cardboard box into the middle of the living room and stopped to survey the area. This was for the better. It was time to move on before her family fell apart and was hurt any more than they already were. She would do anything to keep them together.

  Kneeling by the box, she began to wrap a knickknack in newspaper. Her hand stilled on a piece of newsprint, remembering her first encounter with Shane over Arnold stealing his paper. So much had happened in a short time—too much emotion for her to wade through. Shoving the memories to the back of her mind, she determinedly placed the figurine in the box, resolved to continue.

  When the doorbell rang she thought of ignoring it but knew she couldn't hide forever. She still had to deal with these people until she left. Leah pushed herself to her feet and answered the door.

  Shane smiled. "Hello."

  Leah blocked his entrance, her grip tight on the wooden frame.

  "May I come in?"

  "By all means." She stepped to the side, trying to ignore the tightness in her chest. Shane walked into the living room and halted, staring at the half full box. "What are you doing?"

  "Packing."

  "Why?"

  "I would think that was obvious. I told you once I wouldn't stay in a place where I wasn't welcome. I believe we both know that my family and I have worn out our welcome here in Shady Oaks."

  "So you're running away?"

  Leah folded her arms across her chest, the tightness expanding. "We're moving."

  "Is that what you do when things get a little rough—move?"

  She flinched at the censure in his voice. "We all have our ways of dealing with problems. Some people hide. Some people avoid. And some people run." She shrugged, trying to convey a nonchalance she didn't feel. "Why are you here?"

  "It doesn't matter now."

  "What was it?" she asked, hating her curiosity, the need to know what had brought him to her house. She would have been so much better off if she had never seen him again.

  "Do you really want to know?"

  She nodded.

  "Ned got his wish. There will be a town meeting in two days to discuss you and your family."

  The cold flatness to his voice hurt. "It will be a meeting without me." She turned back to the box and began to wrap more knickknacks, but her hands shook and she couldn't disguise the trembling.

  "You should be there. Don't let Ned win."

  "I don't care anymore."

  "Chicken."

  She stopped and glanced over her shoulder at Shane standing a few feet from her. "I seem to recall you saying that once before to me."

  "You run instead of fighting." Anger made his eyes darken. "You don't give people and towns a chance, especially the people. You're the one with the problem with commitment, not me. My wife's picture and my wedding ring are now in a
box in the attic, where memories of the past belong. You were right about that. But you wear your memories like armor."

  "I suppose that's so. My memories are what protect me from being hurt. But then, you can't say I haven't learned from my mistakes." She resumed her packing, anything to keep her hands busy, a taut band about her chest pulling tighter.

  "When are you going to pack your memories away?"

  She didn't reply, remembering how only moments before he had arrived she had put the memories of him and her in a dark corner of her mind, locked away.

  "Trust means you share everything, the good, the bad, the joys, the hurts."

  For just a few seconds Leah hoped. Then she recalled the situation in Shady Oaks. She would never be the person to come between Shane and the town he grew up in. He loved these people. She wouldn't be responsible for making him choose. She couldn't risk it.

  "I was wrong about living in a small town. I think we'll move back to Chicago. The schools there will be better equipped to handle a child like Joey."

  "And you can become lost in a big city. You don't have to become involved in people's lives."

  Her back grew rigid at the biting edge in his voice. "I have family there," she replied quietly, as if that would explain why she was leaving. It didn't, and they both knew it.

  Shane took a step toward her. "I'll be there for you at the town meeting."

  "You love this place. I don't. You have a stake in this town. I don't," she lied, knowing that when she left a part of her would remain behind. Shady Oaks, minus the Shiplocks and rumors, was everything she had wanted in a place to live.

  "Then you really will leave soon?"

  "Yes."

  That one word hung in the air between them.

  Leah felt his gaze drill into her back as she continued to fill the cardboard box with her possessions. She prayed for a sense of numbness. She didn't want to feel anything. But the pain would be ten times worse if she stayed and forced Shane to choose between her and the people he had known all his life. She had lost out once with her ex-husband and knew she couldn't go through that again.

  "Then this is good-bye." His voice cut through the protective wall she was erecting around her fragile emotions, tearing down all her barriers.

  "Yes," she replied, not daring to look at him.

  She waited with her breath bottled in her lungs for his footsteps to sound on the hardwood floor, to signal he was leaving her alone to pull herself together. Instead, he gripped her arm and yanked her to her feet dragging her around to face him. His thunderous look drove any protest at his manhandling from her mind. This man was furious—at her.

  Without a word he drew her to him, and his mouth came down on hers, crushing any resistance in its punishing possession. His kiss stripped away her defenses, leaving her wanting, needing. Then he jerked away from her and placed several feet between them.

  He just stared at her for a long moment, emotions battling for dominance in his expression. What won out chilled her to the bone. He wheeled about and stalked to the door, wrenching it open and departing without bothering to close it.

  Slowly Leah walked to the front door, gripping it for support, her knees weak, her body quaking. The look of disgust on Shane's face would stay in her mind forever. She watched him jog across the street and enter his house without a backward glance toward her.

  The pain in her chest threatened to overwhelm her. Maybe she should fight. Maybe things would work out. Maybe she wouldn't be the loser, like in her first marriage. But the people of Shady Oaks had signed the petition to call for a meeting. How could she fight a whole town? How could she come between Shane and the people he cared about? What kind of commitment would that be?

  No, she was doing what was right for everyone. Leah shut her front door, the sound of the lock clicking so final.

  * * *

  "Mom, Arnold's gone!" Sam shouted from the kitchen.

  Amidst the cardboard boxes in her bedroom, Leah closed her eyes and sighed. Here she went again. Arnold would be the death of her yet, she thought as she pushed herself to her feet and walked into the kitchen.

  "You've looked everywhere in the backyard?"

  Sam nodded.

  She paused, a lump forming in her throat "Did you check—check with Shane?"

  Sam shook his head. "Can't. I have to meet my friends at the ballpark."

  "Well, I need you to go over to Shane's and check first."

  "Mom, I'm late. I don't have much more time to spend with them before we leave. Do I have to?"

  Leah narrowed her eyes on her eldest. He was manipulating her, and the problem was that it was working. She did feel guilty for uprooting Sam yet again, but he always adjusted so well to each new place. "Go ahead. I'll see to Arnold."

  "Thanks, Mom." Sam raced from the room before she changed her mind.

  Another deep sigh escaped Leah. She glanced out the front window at Shane's house and dreaded the next few minutes. It had been two days since she had last seen him. And in those two days she had wanted to go to him a hundred times. But each time she remembered that last look, and couldn't.

  Okay, Leah, you can do this. March across the street and bring Arnold home. She straightened, and fortified herself with a deep breath as she headed for the front door. She realized she had allowed Sam to convince her she should be the one to see if Arnold was at Shane's. She also realized she had needed a reason to see him, and this was as good as she had been able to come up with over the past few days.

  When she rang the bell at Shane's house she almost turned and fled. She could hear his footsteps approaching, and panic seized her. When he opened the door, her heart twisted at the sight of him—a day's growth of beard on his face, his eyes solemn, his hair a mess as if he had combed his fingers through it over and over.

  "What do you want?" he asked, his voice as cold as his expression.

  "Arnold."

  "He isn't—" His jaw clamped down on the rest of his sentence. "In fact, I haven't seen Princess either, today."

  "Will you check to see if she's here?"

  Without inviting her in, he pivoted and disappeared into his house. An eternity seemed to pass while Leah waited for him to return. Shane's anger was there just under the surface, simmering. A deep ache in the pit of her stomach began to grow.

  In the two days since she had announced her impulsive decision about her moving to Shane, she had relived it over and over, each time taking her words back. As she had packed each box, she had felt the wrongness in her actions but couldn't stop herself from going ahead. Yes, he had put his wife's picture away, had taken off his wedding ring, but that didn't mean he was ready for the kind of commitment she needed. Shane had never said he loved her. He would be better off without her and her family in Shady Oaks, causing problems between him and the rest of the town.

  When Shane reappeared, he stepped out onto the porch and closed his door. "She's gone, too. She's due any day now. We'd better find them."

  "Where do you think we should look?"

  "Who knows, with that hound of yours?"

  "I'll have you know that Arnold is a thoroughbred among beagles," Leah said, grabbing onto the old argument between them to ease the tension.

  "Heard that before. But I've yet to see this thoroughbred's papers you claim to have." He gestured down the street. "Let's walk toward Miller Woods. I have a feeling Princess sneaked off to have her puppies there. I had a nice comfortable bed for her, but her tastes have gone to the dogs since a certain one moved in across the street."

  "You know I hope you've resigned from the welcoming group. Your manners have not improved." She fell into step next to Shane, having to hurry to keep up with the man. She felt as though she and Shane had gone back two months, to the day they had met. She wished they could. She hadn't worked hard enough to protect herself from being hurt and now she was paying the price dearly.

  At the edge of Miller Woods Shane stopped and surveyed the foliage. "Any suggestions?"

 
; "They could be anywhere in there, or someplace else."

  He cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted, "Princess!"

  Nothing.

  "Try calling for Arnold."

  Leah yelled for Arnold as she walked into the trees while Shane did the same with Princess. She hoped that for once all those obedience classes would pay off, and he actually would answer her summons.

  The whole time she and Shane searched the woods she was aware of the man beside her. The ache in her stomach expanded to encompass her chest making her breathing shallow. Her pulse raced, and her palms were sweaty.

  Leah halted in the middle of the path, feeling closed off from the world by the green foliage. "Arnold." She turned in a full circle, calling her pet's name until she felt a dryness in her throat.

  Shane came to stand beside her. "They're probably not here."

  She turned and stared up into his face. The feeling of isolation intensified as she became lost in the soulful brown of his eyes. Her heart increased its pounding tempo, the sound thundering in her ears. She felt as if it were ricocheting off the tree trunks and bombarding her with her foolishness.

  "Shane, I—" She swallowed her words, unsure what to say to the man she realized she loved. That knowledge stunned her with such a force that she swayed, reaching out to grasp his arm to steady herself. She hadn't wanted to fall in love, to leave herself open to be hurt again.

  Shane's gaze dropped to her hand on him, then back up to her face. "Are you all right?"

  The husky timbre in his question shuddered down the length of her. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She wanted to shout to the world that she loved this man, yet years of running away from her emotions kept her quiet, protecting herself the best way she knew how.

  "Then we'd better go back. Maybe they're hidden at one of our houses."

  Shane started to leave, but Leah increased her grip on his arm, forcing him back around to her. She didn't want to part with this anger between them. "I'm sorry about—everything."

  He shrugged her hand off him. "What's there to be sorry about? We both stated at the beginning our intention to keep things casual between us."