by Kim Watters
The kind of woman Jared would fall for. He could, too, if that was what he wanted.
But wanting to protect her when he had to be part of her problem? Sure, he hadn’t been the cause of her financial woes, but deep down he knew that being behind in her bills bothered her and he felt like a cad. His mom would have never gone over there and asked for the back rent. As soon as he met Holly Stanwyck, he knew he wasn’t going to get it from her. Even if she did somehow come up with it, he wasn’t sure he would take it and hoped her idea for the holiday decorating service panned out because she needed money.
The woman also needed some divine intervention right now. He’d add her to his prayers tonight and ask his mother to do the same. Knowing Nan, though, Holly was already on the list.
He slammed his car door shut. As a career soldier forced out because of his injuries, he’d never make it in the civilian world if he didn’t toughen up. Right. He was just a big softy, regardless of which side he was on. He’d always had pieces of candy in his pocket for the Afghan children and biscuits for the stray dogs. Now he was opening a sanctuary for dogs to stay while their owners served on foreign soil and to help transport stray dogs adopted by servicemen overseas and reunite them stateside.
Head down to keep the lingering snowflakes from his eyes, and hands bunched inside his coat pockets, he headed toward home and the kennels in the enclosed porch of his house in town that he used as the temporary sanctuary. The permanent one was going to be at his family’s farmhouse outside of town, but it needed to be refurbished before he could take the dogs out there. He needed money to do that; some of it he’d hoped to get from Holly. Now he’d have to look elsewhere, since his disability checks barely covered anything.
The lemon scent of cleaner and varied barks greeted him when he walked through the double French doors off the back porch.
“How’d it go?” Meredith, his cousin and fellow board member of Beyond the Borders Dog Sanctuary, greeted him.
“As well as I suspected. There won’t be any funds coming from the store anytime soon.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Holly’s such a nice woman. She’s just had a lot to deal with lately.”
Ethan didn’t bother to mention the incident with the garage door, seeing as he suspected Meredith was the one who had leaked the eviction information to the wrong person. He loved his cousin, but after being away so long, he’d forgotten her fondness for spreading gossip.
“Anything new with the little girl?” Ethan changed the subject. He didn’t want to think about Holly anymore, or the tangible energy that had made the short hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention when his hand grazed hers as he gave her the snow globe. Meredith sat inside the kennel, stroking the little black-and-white mutt’s head, and he saw the bandages covering both front legs where the dog had licked away all her fur.
“Pudding Cup will be fine. It’s just nerves. She misses her mom.”
“How about the big guy I brought in to Tim?” He’d found the injured stray mix huddled on the side of the road yesterday, and it reminded him of one of the dogs their patrol had rescued from the cruelty of an Afghan family. He couldn’t ignore the mutt and had thoughts about keeping him, despite the fact Ethan needed to stick to his mission statement. There were other shelters in the area that took in homeless and abandoned dogs.
“He’s going to be just fine. Tim thinks he’s found a home for him already, so he said not to worry about the bill.” Meredith was engaged to the local veterinarian, who also sat on the board and was willing to take care of any of their animals for cost.
“I’ll have to stop by and thank him.” And make sure the animal was going to a good home. Okay, so he was a sucker for dogs and kids and apparently widows behind on their rent.
Ethan rubbed his hand across his stubbly chin. “Anything else?”
“Yep.” Meredith rose to her feet, causing Pudding Cup to whimper and follow her to the gate. “Another stray is being shipped over from Afghanistan, courtesy of your buddy Phil, along with the other one. Duggan and Jasper arrive Saturday, as do two more dogs on Wednesday. Their owners ship out next Friday.”
“Great.” Ethan wiped the snowflake residue from his face. His six temporary accommodations were more than full. With four more dogs coming in, he would be over capacity at seven, even though the two from Afghanistan would only be temporary until he could reunite them with their owners, who’d arrived home from their tour of duty last month. He could spill out into his living room, but he’d be over the limit and need a kennel license that much sooner. “Where am I going to put them?”
“Whose brilliant idea was it to provide a home for displaced animals when their owners left?”
“Mine, and you know it’s a good one. It’s one less thing for our local service men and women to think about while they’re doing their tour. Most are fortunate to have family to take care of them, but not all.” Ethan had started his studies to be a lay minister and had often counseled some of the enlisted men when the need arose. Leaving their pets behind ranked pretty high up there behind family, especially when they had to dump their companion in a shelter.
Being distracted could get a person killed. He knew that firsthand.
He stared at the nubs on his hand and tried to feel the forgiveness. The emotion refused to come. Five people died that day, and he wrestled with the guilt. Despite the fact he was assigned to protect the chaplain, he felt a responsibility to everyone he traveled with. He should have seen the IED. He knew the signs to look for. A strange vehicle on the side of the road, the wink of light reflecting off the camera lens set up to film the incident, the uneasy feeling harbored inside his gut because of the delay in getting the convoy started.
But he’d been distracted.
None of that mattered now.
What mattered as he stared at his scars and searched for forgiveness was that God had a plan for him. And it revolved around the sanctuary and taking care of man’s best friend.
“You’re just a bleeding-heart softy. That’s what I love about you.” Meredith gave him a hug. “I’ll take Pudding Cup with me. I like the little girl, and Tim says it’s no problem for me to drop her off at his office during the day. I think she’ll recover quicker from her abandonment issues, so that frees up one kennel and then you’ll have enough.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.” For what seemed the first time that day, he smiled. Meredith was more like a sister than a cousin, and with a job in sales and marketing, she was an invaluable part of the team he’d selected for the board. He’d also asked her fiancé, Tim, and his mom because she owned the property that would house the permanent sanctuary. He should find one other person, to make the numbers odd in case they needed a tiebreaker, and he had yet to find someone with accounting experience so he could concentrate on the dogs and managing the sanctuary.
Things had happened so quickly. He’d probably gone about this the wrong way by accepting animals before he was ready, but the alternative would have been for his first resident, Sadie, to end up in the pound. It would work out. God’s plan had been revealed to him during those long hours in the hospital and continued to be revealed daily.
Pudding Cup treated him to a good licking when he bent and scratched her behind her ears. Bear, the black Lab who had alerted him to yesterday’s graffiti artists, whined and pawed at the metal fencing of his kennel, begging for attention. “I’ll be right there, boy.” His gaze scoured the cramped area again. “I need money to expand and move everything out to the farm.”
“Keep praying. It’ll happen. We’ll get the grant money and more private funding. You’ll see.” Meredith picked up Pudding Cup and squeezed her gently. “Oh, there’s one other thing.” By the hesitant smile registered on her lips, Ethan knew he wasn’t going to like the next words out of his cousin’s mouth. “We’re also getting a ferret. Seems like one of the dogs arr
iving Saturday thinks it’s her baby. I told Private Smith it would be okay.”
“But we agreed this would be strictly dogs. It’s called Beyond the Borders Dog Sanctuary.”
Meredith crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him darkly. “Then change it to Beyond the Borders Animal Sanctuary. As a member of the board, I have the right to speak up, as well. How can you break up a family? What kind of peace of mind would our soldier get if he didn’t know both his pets were safe while he was away? I suspect we’ll be getting calls for cats soon, too.”
Ethan shoved his hand through his hair. “No. Absolutely not. No cats.”
“We’ll see about that.” She gave him a dark look. “Just because you have a personal issue with the cute, cuddly creatures doesn’t mean they shouldn’t have the same consideration as dogs. They are all God’s creatures.”
“I’m well aware of that. I’m okay with cats. I just don’t understand them. They need to go elsewhere. I’m having enough trouble raising the money and supplies for dogs.” His cousin’s scowl grew. Half Irish with red hair to match, Meredith was a force to be reckoned with when she was angry. “I’m not going to win this argument, am I?”
She shook her head. “They make medicine for that, you know. I’ll make a cat lover out of you yet. I’ve gotta run, but I’ll be back after dinner to help you walk them and transition Bear and Sadie for the night. You really need to get some volunteers in here, though, when the other dogs arrive.”
“I’ll work on it.” Another item to add to his list of things to do for the shelter that grew longer, not shorter, with each passing day. And now to complicate things, he had a whole separate issue to think about.
Holly Stanwyck refused to budge from his mind.
* * *
Shadows from the early-morning sun stretched across the road in front of them as Holly drove to the other side of town Saturday morning. The digital clock in her car read 7:57 a.m. and she still had ten minutes to go according to Ethan’s directions. Holly disliked being late. The scheduled 7:45 departure time shouldn’t have been an issue, since she was an early riser. Too bad her son had other ideas. Holly had let him sleep as long as possible, but he still looked wiped out from the week, disgruntled and a bit dejected. He’d given her a hard time about getting up.
Instead of going to the early church service tomorrow, they’d catch the later one. Not that she really wanted to go, but she had to, for Cam’s sake. It hadn’t worked these past few months, but maybe being in the Lord’s house would straighten him out since she hadn’t been able to get through to him. She glanced sideways at her son and caught the scowl underneath the perfected look of boredom. Nothing seemed to have remained from his childhood, and her heart ached at the thought of how things used to be before Jared died.
So much had changed since the accident. Especially the past year.
Holly tried to lighten the mood inside her old Honda. “Mindy’s manning the shop today.” The high-school student worked for her part-time because Holly couldn’t work seven days a week, keep sane and keep Cameron out of trouble, which apparently wasn’t working very well. She couldn’t really afford the student, but Holly hated asking her friends to continually pitch in. “I need to stop in and check on a few things, but any ideas on what you’d like to do after we finish at Mr. Pellegrino’s house?”
“I wanna ride the quad again.” He folded his arms across his chest and glared at her.
“You know we don’t have them anymore.” To help pay their medical bills, she’d sold both ATVs after Jared died.
“That’s what I want to do. Patrick tells me they have two. You can let me go home with him after we’re finished.”
“You know that’s not going to happen. Besides, we don’t even know if they’re coming today to help. They never responded to my phone call.” Her fingers gripped the steering wheel a little harder as she turned the corner and merged with the rest of the local and tourist vehicles heading through the downtown area. She couldn’t imagine not communicating with another parent had the roles been reversed. But then again, she had no idea what was going on inside Patrick’s home, and she had never met his parents.
Silence accompanied them the last five minutes to Ethan’s house, where he waited for them outside by the garage with a can of paint and painting supplies. Arms crossed, he paced the small cement area in front of the 1960s-style single-story brick ranch house.
“Good morning.” Holly spoke as soon as she exited the car. Too bad her inability to get her bearings had nothing to do with the sudden movement and everything to do with the man in the old T-shirt underneath his worn camouflage jacket and faded jeans. He still wore the same compassionate look he’d had inside her shop the other day, but underneath she sensed his uncertainty and awkwardness that probably stemmed from his injury in Afghanistan.
“Good morning.” His gaze swept over her fleece-lined jacket and then back to her face, making her feel a bit self-conscious. A half smile broke the tension. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Heat consumed her cheeks. “Sorry we’re late. I should have called. I would never back out on a promise or commitment. We just had a hard time getting out of the house this morning.” She glanced around the driveway, not surprised to see her car the sole vehicle. “I take it Patrick isn’t here?”
“Not yet.”
“Then he probably won’t show. I was only able to leave a message for his parents, and they never called back.” Sorrow and a touch of anger burrowed into her heart. From what she’d gleaned from Cam’s conversation the night of the incident, the idea had been Patrick’s and so had the spray paint, but her son was just as guilty for going along with the plan.
“That’s not your problem. I should have contacted them myself. Ready? After Cameron removes the graffiti, it shouldn’t take that long to paint, but we may have to do two coats. We should be finished by eleven. If you need to leave earlier, I can drop Cameron off at the store.”
“We? I thought this was Cameron’s job.”
“It is.” Ethan rubbed his chin with the back of his hand, drawing her gaze along with it. “But I somehow feel responsible. If my cousin hadn’t mentioned my hastily spoken words—about evicting the tenant because of the back rent—to her best friend, the busybody of Dynamite Creek, your son wouldn’t have heard it from his classmate.”
She looked at the black spray paint on the light brown wooden door. Holly nodded. “I see. Look, I understand your position. You need someone in there who can pay the rent, and being behind usually results in eviction. I get that. Now, as for the door, you’re right, it would go much quicker if we all helped, especially because you haven’t seen Cam paint yet.” She glanced back at her car. Her son still sat hunched in the front seat. “Today, Cameron. The sooner you get started, the sooner you get finished.”
Cam sulked as he stepped from the passenger seat and shuffled toward them. The preteen residing in his body screamed attitude. Holly needed to get a handle on him before he towered above her with his next growth spurt.
Ethan gave Cameron a pair of black work gloves. “Here, put these on.”
“For painting?”
“You’re going to remove the spray paint first. I doubt the paint for the garage door will cover the black markings very well.” After kneeling down, Ethan wedged the yellow bottle with red lettering into the crook of his arm and used his good hand to open the top.
“What’s that?” Cameron yanked on the gloves.
“It’s supposed to remove the graffiti.” Ethan poured some liquid onto a rag, set the bottle down, stood and then handed the cloth to Cam. “Just start rubbing the painted areas. It should come off.”
“Me?”
“Of course.” He winked at Holly, making her heart flutter until she tamped down on the emotion. Despite the two years that had passed since his death, her heart belonged to Jar
ed.
“You’re the one who did it. I’m here to supervise, not do the job for you. Your mom, either. Just be careful you don’t get it on your skin or clothes.” Folding his arms over his chest, Ethan stepped back.
What? she mouthed, raising her eyebrows and tilting her head to the side. Ethan put a finger to his lips and motioned for her to take a few steps back.
Once they were out of hearing distance, he leaned close to her ear, the warmth of his breath creating havoc with her breathing. “We’ll help with the painting. This part is a lesson the boy needs to learn for himself.”
“Sounds like you have experience,” Holly replied softly as she inched away, needing to distance herself.
“I do. I wasn’t exactly a choirboy in my youth.” A fraction of a smile tugged at his lips, and his gaze slipped back to her son begrudgingly rubbing the saturated cloth over the paint.
“Really. What did you do?”
“Pretty much the same thing. I tagged a neighbor’s garage door because he was old and crotchety. Back then, I didn’t get to use any sort of remover. I had to sand the area first, apply a primer and then four coats of paint. Took nearly the whole weekend.”
“Did you learn your lesson?”
“That was just one of many.”
And yet it looked as if Ethan had managed to turn his life around, go into the service and almost die for his country. Her gaze flickered to his injured hand again and wondered if it still hurt and how he managed to do the day-to-day stuff that required two sets of fingers, but she was too polite to ask. Besides, that would mean opening up her heart again to the possibilities of establishing some sort of friendship or relationship with him, and that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
“This stuff smells like your nail-polish remover, Mom, but it really works. Look. The paint is almost all gone.” Cam broke into her thoughts, dragging them back to the garage door. A slight stain still clung to the beige paint, but it was much less noticeable now. She breathed a sigh of relief, realizing they wouldn’t be there all day as she’d anticipated.