“Well, that’s a relief,” Shane said with a quick shake of the head. “I was afraid you’d come to take my new handler away.”
“Nobody can take me anywhere I don’t want to go,” Lauren pointed out. “Unlike the dogs, I can make my own decisions.”
“Totally true,” Oscar affirmed. “And you remind me of my no-nonsense wife, which tells me you can handle this guy fine enough on your own.”
Lauren blushed at the compliment. She wondered if one day she might get to meet Lolly and maybe grab an autograph while she was at it.
Shane smirked and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before setting his cup back onto the table. “No nonsense is absolutely right. This one sure does give me a run for my money.”
“Oh?” Oscar asked, setting his mug back down onto a clear patch of table. Shane’s papers still littered most of the surface, and it killed Lauren that she couldn’t just clean them up on his behalf.
“Oh yes, she doesn’t take crap from anyone, least of all me. The dogs love her and recognize her as an authority figure now, though that took some doing. I wasn’t sure at first, you know, that such a rookie could actually be anything more than a pain in my backside, but she’s proven herself little by little.” He glanced briefly toward Lauren before turning his full attention back to the visiting vet.
He did like her. He did think she was doing a good job. She hadn’t known for sure until now and, boy, did it feel good to receive that validation from her grumpy, difficult-to-please employer.
“So that’s why the complaint emails stopped coming in?” Oscar asked, running a finger around the rim of his now empty mug.
Lauren wanted to hear what Shane had to say for himself, but she also needed to make sure their guest was well taken care of. She popped to her feet and grabbed the coffee pot from the far counter while continuing to listen to the men’s exchange.
Shane dropped his voice a couple notches, but she could still hear him clear as day. “What do you expect when you send me someone with zero experience? But, yes, it worked out in the end. All’s good here. In fact, I’ve been thinking about signing her and the dogs up for a race sometime soon. You know, to keep the dogs in shape mostly.”
Mostly? What were his other reasons? Lauren wondered.
“Well, I’m glad to hear all that,” Oscar said as Lauren topped off his coffee. “You know I’m just a phone call away if you ever need me. That goes for both of you. While I’m here, do you mind if I check in on the dogs too?”
“Be my guest,” Shane said. “They’ll be happy to see you.”
They both watched Oscar suit up in his winter gear and head outside to the kennels, taking his freshly replenished coffee with him. When the door shut behind him, Lauren said, “Thank you for saying all those nice things. It would have been nice to hear them earlier, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers.”
“Don’t let it get to your head,” he mumbled, raising his cup again and watching through the window as Oscar made his way over to the dogs. “You still have a long way to go, but at least you’re finally moving.”
“Whatever, Mr. Grump. You like me, no use denying it now.”
“What a loaded word,” he said with a smile.
“It’s okay. I like you, too.” She grabbed a cup of coffee for herself, and they sat together in companionable silence for a while longer before both returned to their separate daily routines.
It was days like this that Lauren truly felt as if she’d found a home.
Shane came to dinner that evening with an agenda. At least, that’s the way Lauren saw it.
She served up piping hot bowls of her homemade soup, which they decided to take to the pair of recliners in the living room and eat by the fire. Shane always seemed to open up most when they were sitting there together, almost as if removing the physical obstacle of the table also tore down some kind of emotional barrier, too.
In front of the fire, he bared his soul. From discussing books to chatting about their respective days, all the way to the good-natured ribbing that so often took place between the two of them, the flames seemed to give him courage while the comfort of the recliner relieved his many hidden anxieties.
“This is good soup,” he said to her after trying the first spoonful. “I’ve noticed you’re spending a lot more time in the kitchen. Do you think you might apply to be a cook once you’re done here?” Shane took another noisy slurp of the broth to emphasize his appreciation.
She shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’ll do next. Trying to take it one day at a time.”
He frowned and set his bowl on the side table, turning toward her with something that resembled pity in his eyes. “Taking it one day at a time is a recipe for disaster. It means you’re running a race without knowing whether there’s a finish line.”
“It’s life. Of course there’s a finish line. And, really, what more can I do?” she asked, shifting away from his intense gaze. “We don’t know how long it will be until you get better and don’t need me anymore. Who knows what I’ll want by then.” She hoped he’d take this opportunity to reveal what he wanted. Perhaps he could create a more permanent position for her. Maybe she wouldn’t have to leave, and maybe he didn’t want her to go.
He didn’t say any of that. Instead, he simply stated, “I suggest you figure out what you want.”
“What? So I can be happy like you? Don’t make me laugh.” His lack of passion rankled her. She knew he had begun to like her. He’d made it obvious that morning. So why was he so stubbornly insistent on acting this way? Lauren stirred her soup, staring into the browns, oranges, and greens as they whirled around the bowl together.
“Then don’t be so stupid,” Shane continued, obviously unamused, unmoved, unanything. “If you don’t take charge now, you could end up living a life you never wanted, one you don’t like very much.”
“Is that from experience?”
“Maybe.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“No.” He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes as if to shut her out.
“Then maybe don’t offer advice you can’t back up,” she grumbled. The deliciousness of their meal had already been ruined by this insane battle. She’d really thought they’d reached a turning point in their relationship, but apparently she’d been wrong. Had it all been a show for Oscar Rockwell, or was Shane really this hot and cold all the time?
“I’m not trying to upset you.” His eyes were still closed as he spoke.
Lauren huffed. For someone who wasn’t trying to upset her, he did a fantastic job of it. Shane Ramsey knew just how to get under her skin. He’d known it from the beginning.
“Listen,” he urged, “I’m trying to help here. Just… Don’t rely on me, okay? If you need to put in notice, do it. If you need to go somewhere else, go. Don’t let me and the dogs hold you back. It may seem like it’s just a matter of a few months, but what if these few months end up ruining the rest of your life?”
She rolled her eyes, ready for this conversation to be over. Every time she felt them becoming closer, he pulled away again. “It’s a temp job, Shane. We both know that. It’s what I need right now, so unless this is your way of firing me, can we please change the topic?”
“Have it your way.” He opened his eyes again, the blues revitalized by the brief rest. She could get lost in those eyes. Maybe she already had.
A few more days passed, during which Shane grew increasingly distant. Sure, he was there. He was always there, but he’d closed back up the part of himself that he’d only briefly shown to Lauren, leaving her to wonder if he might be trying to force her hand, to make her quit for some unknown reason.
Lauren didn’t like playing games, especially ones of which she couldn’t even begin to understand the rules. But he was every bit as stubborn as she was determined, which left them at an impasse.
One afternoon, she’d initially planned to drive into Puffin Ridge and run a few errands. All that changed, however, when th
e flame-haired Grace arrived to shuttle Shane to his appointment in the city.
“I have a doctor’s appointment, plus some business to tend to in the city today,” he explained as they both watched Grace breeze from her car to the front door of the cabin. She wondered why he couldn’t just take himself since he was fully capable of driving on his own. Did the doctor give him drugs that rendered him unable to operate heavy machinery? If so, what and why?
“If you really needed a chauffeur, I could have taken you. I’m free,” she argued, but he just shrugged.
“It’s quite all right,” the physical therapist explained, having heard the last part of their conversation after letting herself in. “I don’t mind helping out.”
Shane nodded. “Grace always takes me to these things. No need to change something that works.”
“We’ll be gone for several hours at least. So don’t wait up,” Grace said with a laugh as she escorted Shane and his crutches through the doorway.
Well, if that was the way he wanted it, Lauren could find plenty to keep her busy with the entire cabin at her disposal. There was still much she needed to know, and if Shane wasn’t going to tell her, then she’d have to figure things out another way.
It’s not snooping, she reasoned, if I’m doing it for a good cause. If I understand what has him so down all the time, then maybe I can help.
And she knew just where to start—the old garden shed out back. Then again, perhaps if Shane caught her in the act, he’d be angry enough to at least show some emotion toward her again.
As much as she missed their heated arguments, she didn’t want their hard-earned relationship to regress. The fact that they now stood still drove her crazy. The right bit of intel, though, could change everything—make it better for both of them.
She waited a half an hour, just to make sure the coast was truly clear. She decided that a credit card, kitchen knife, and bobby pin would be the most useful tools for working the lock and brought them with her outside. She tried the bobby pin last, because it required taking off her gloves in the chill air. But the heavy knob refused to budge. Nothing worked, and likely nothing would work except the designated key.
Perhaps if she searched, she could find it mixed in with Shane’s things inside?
Feeling a new sense of determination, she tromped back in and started with the kitchen. Well, as long as she was going through things, she may as well organize them, too.
The papers on the kitchen table had remained scattered for the weeks since she’d arrived, and it was driving her crazy. Surely he wouldn’t mind if she sorted them into neat stacks? That wasn’t too intrusive, was it?
She scanned each paper quickly to determine which pile was best to place it in. Mostly, she found the standard kinds of mail: bills, licenses, advertisements, and even an old court summons.
The summons gave nothing away, but it did make Lauren wonder, had Shane been in some kind of lawsuit? Or had he committed a misdemeanor? Lost his temper and assaulted someone? Whatever the case, it was more than three years old, and the matter had likely been long since resolved.
Feeling satisfied with her work at the table, she moved on to the junk drawer, which seemed the most likely place someone would hide a spare key. But unlike every other surface in the house, the junk drawer was neatly organized with things like tape, scissors, tools, a tape measurer—all in their clearly marked places.
Strange.
She took a deep breath and headed toward the only other place in the house she wasn’t supposed to go: Shane’s bedroom. What could possibly be in there that needed to be kept a secret? He didn’t seem the type to blush over his boxers, which meant something really good had to be concealed back there.
Maybe he had a memory box or two of his own.
She looked out the window one more time to make sure she was totally alone, then turned the knob, took a deep breath, and let herself into Shane’s bedroom.
She’d expected to find a mess of discarded clothes, old takeout containers, and other debris, but Shane’s bedroom, unlike the rest of the house, sat neat and tidy. The walls were painted a dark red and all the blinds were drawn tightly shut, making the place feel more like a cave than anything. Was this where Shane went to hibernate and shut out the rest of the world, including her?
She understood that, but she couldn’t figure out why he’d made such a point to keep her out until now. The room held nothing remarkable—a king-sized bed, long dresser, and even a tiny ceiling-mounted TV with a VHS player built right in. She had to wonder if that old thing still worked and if Shane actually had the right kind of tapes to play in it.
Everything was dark—the wood, the walls, the bedding, even the ceiling was painted black as night. It all seemed at odds with the rest of the house. Was this how the secret shed was decorated, too?
She drifted over to the dresser. A coin dish, bottle of cologne, and can of spray deodorant were the only items that sat on its surface. The absence of dust implied that Shane regularly cleaned—but why in here and not the rest of the house?
The weight of her guilt loomed thick like fog, and Lauren said a quick prayer to ask for forgiveness for encroaching on Shane’s privacy like this. Still, she pushed forward in her search. The betrayal had already happened, and she couldn’t have it be for nothing. She needed to see what she could find.
Inside the dresser, she found neatly folded clothing and carefully matched socks, none of which she’d ever seen her employer wear. They were going out clothes, yet he never went much of anywhere these days and preferred pajamas for around home. Even for his appointment today, he wore sweats and an old T-shirt. Nothing fancy.
In the closet, she found a handsome navy suit, the kind she’d often seen execs wearing back in New York. Finely polished Oxfords lined the floor of the closet, and a series of dress shirts hung from the rod. She even found a collection of ascots kept neatly in a lidless wooden box.
It was almost as if Shane had a second life as a high-powered stockbroker or an old-fashioned crooner… even as a news anchor or gangster. She couldn’t see Shane in any of those roles, though. She couldn’t picture him any other way than he was now, which made this discovery all the more unsettling.
Above the clothes, a high shelf drew her curiosity. It was more than six feet from the floor, and while she could clearly see that something was wedged in the back, she couldn’t reach it without finding something to stand on first.
Okay, once she figured out what was up there, she’d stop snooping once and for all. Her investigation today had yielded more questions than answers, which helped neither her nor Shane. She wasn’t any closer to understanding his thinly masked pain. In fact, she felt like she’d wandered into the secret lair of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Was it possible that there wasn’t just one real Shane but two? And which version had she become acquainted with?
She grabbed a chair from the kitchen and returned to the closet, feeling more than ready to put this all behind her.
Unfortunately, that was when the front door swung open with a low, ominous creak.
Oh no!
What was he doing home so early?
Grace had said they’d be out for hours. And where could Lauren hide so that Shane wouldn’t spot her, and she could slip away later… perhaps if he went to use the bathroom or visit with the dogs outside.
Think, think, think.
But there wasn’t time for that. Lauren tucked herself in the closet. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the time or space to take the repurposed kitchen chair with her.
Crap, crap, crap!
Shane came in then. She could see him through the thin opening between the closet doors, and he did not look happy. His eyes landed right on the chair and his face darkened to match the rest of the room. “Lauren!” he bellowed.
“Yes?” she squeaked, slowly opening the closet and stepping into the main part of the master suite.
“What are you doing in my room? You know you’re not supposed to be in here,”
he demanded, fixing her with a heated stare.
“I know, I’m sorry. I just—“
“You just nothing! Get out! Get out now!” He screamed so loud, the air shook and emitted a high pitch sound that echoed through the house’s wiring.
“Shane, let me explain. I—“
“No, you don’t get to explain. You only need to get out.” He pointed toward the open door emphatically and stared wide-eyed at her as if his eyes could physically move her from the space.
“I didn’t see anything, I swear. I didn’t know—”
“You knew you weren’t supposed to come in here, but that’s just like you, isn’t it?” His expression turned sinister. “You’re always doing whatever you want, regardless of the rules. Well, you know what? I’m done. You’re done.”
“Wait, no. Are you firing me?”
Shane let out an angry string of curses. “Why are you still in my room? Get out!” The same tremor she’d spotted when he’d made the mess of the flowers had returned. His entire chest heaved as if he were desperately short of breath.
She wanted to apologize, wanted to explain, but what could she say? She had invaded his privacy, and she’d done it knowingly.
“I’m so sorry. What I did was wrong, and I—” Taking a chance, she walked toward him and placed her hand on his arm, but he ripped it away as if he’d been burned.
“Don’t touch me. Don’t touch my things. Don’t even talk to me. Just get out! I expect you to be gone when I wake up in the morning. You’re no longer welcome here.”
Lauren wanted to get angry. She wanted to meet Shane’s screams with her own, but this time, she knew she was in the wrong, had known all along.
Would the dogs suffer because her curiosity got the best of her? And what of Shane? Though he was raging like a beast again, he’d become her friend. Would he be able to focus on getting better without the added help? And where would she go?
She had no idea, but she knew this was what she deserved.
“Get out right now before I get you out myself.” Shane seethed and, despite his red-hot rage, she knew he could never hurt her. Words were his weapon of choice, and even then, he avoided saying anything he couldn’t take back later.
Let There Be Love: The Sled Dog Series, Book 1 Page 6