The Good, the Bad, and the Pugly (An Alpine Grove Romantic Comedy Book 7)

by Susan C. Daffron

  Clay touched her back and rubbed it slightly. He said softly, “I’m so sorry, honey.” Brigid turned around and squeezed her eyes shut as she clutched his shirt and pressed her face into his chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

  He smelled like horses, hay, and warm skin. For the first time in far too long, she felt the warmth of human contact as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and let her cry.

  After a few minutes, there was a snuffling noise and something tickled her ear. Brigid pulled her head away and looked up at Clay’s face. “Was that you or Willy?”

  “Willy. I might need a shave, but my whiskers aren’t that long. He’s just making sure you’re okay.”

  She smiled tentatively. “I’m so sorry about this…I barely know you. This is really embarrassing. I don’t know what happened. I haven’t cried like this before.”

  He rubbed her back gently again. “Maybe you needed to.”

  As she stepped away from him, he straightened his arm and dropped it to his side. She looked down at Willy’s hooves. “I guess so.”

  Clay reached out and tilted her chin up with his fingertip, so she was looking into his eyes, then dropped his hand again. “Sadness is nothing to be ashamed of or to be embarrassed about. But I hope you can let it go in time.”

  “I don’t understand why you are being so kind to me.”

  He glanced toward the sky again and looked back at her. “Well, I don’t know exactly. Partly you seemed like you could use a little kindness. And at the bar, you were so set on saving that dog. You don’t see that level of compassion often, and it struck me.”

  “More like stupidity. If it weren’t for you, I’d have a house full of dogs.”

  “Instead, I have a barn full of dogs.” He grinned. “I’d say that was a good move on your part.”

  Brigid smiled involuntarily as she wiped her eyes. She probably looked all blotchy and horrifying by now. “I’m not sure what to do though. I keep flip-flopping between hope and despair. I’m unemployed and don’t know anyone. In all my enthusiasm or compassion or whatever you want to call it, I haven’t exactly planned ahead and it’s going to be the dogs who lose out.”

  “Given that you’re in Alpine Grove, it’s probably only a matter of hours before you meet more people. Soon you’ll know everybody. More than you ever wanted to know, in fact.”

  “Spoken like a true native.”

  “I confess that is part of why I left. But it’s also why I came back. In a small town like this oftentimes people are willing to help out. You just have to ask.”

  Brigid looked down at her feet. “I guess I’m not very good at asking.”

  “You asked me.”

  “That’s true. But it was a weird situation and probably half the reason I did was because the bartender was encouraging me. And the spiked iced tea didn’t hurt either. Most people aren’t like you. What if they say no?”

  “You go ask someone else.”

  She reached out to pet Willy’s brown forehead. “I am planning to go to the library and get books, so I can learn more about nonprofits and fundraising.”

  “It sounds to me like you’ve got some good ideas and the start of some plans.”

  “I’ve also decided to stay here. I don’t really have anywhere else to go. If I can find a job, I won’t need to leave at the end of the summer and then I can do this right.”

  “There are worse places to live.”

  Brigid smiled. “I know. I’ve lived in some of them. It’s so nice to have a choice now.”

  “I suppose that’s a downside of the military life.”

  “When I got married, I was so excited to see the world. A life of adventure going to from place to place. And I did get to spend some time in Europe and travel a little seeing the sights. But mostly I ended up living near Army bases that weren’t necessarily in places I would have wanted to visit, much less live.”

  Clay chuckled. “I can imagine. When I was doing movie work, I found out that for every exotic location you go to, like a castle in Germany, there’s three backwoods places you end up at where it’s 400 degrees and full of bugs.”

  “Well, it sounds like fun anyway.”

  “At the time I did enjoy it, although it’s tiring. There’s more standing around and waiting than you might expect and a lot of long hours.” He patted her horse. “So are you ready to get back up on Willy before he falls asleep on you?”

  “Okay. He’s been great about putting up with my lack of riding ability.” She went to Willy’s left side and looked at the stirrup. There was no way she could get her foot up there. “I think I have a problem.”

  “Grab the horn.” Clay interlocked his fingers and bent to hold his hands down near her foot. “Now, go for it.”

  Brigid put her left foot in his hands and he hoisted her up as she swung her leg over Willy’s back. After she was seated and had her feet tucked back in the stirrups, Clay put his hand over hers on the saddle horn. “You okay up there?”

  “Yes. Better than okay.” She put her other hand on top of his and squeezed. “Thank you.”

  During the ride back to the ranch, Brigid chatted with Clay about some of the places she’d lived. Because he’d been on the rodeo circuit, he knew even some of the more obscure areas of the country where she’d been stationed, particularly in the West. They both agreed that neither of them ever needed to see Oklahoma again, and he implied that there were aspects of rodeos he wished he’d known at eighteen, but didn’t. Given the expression on his face, Brigid didn’t ask for specifics.

  Periodically, Clay made riding suggestions, like keeping her heels down. Easy for him to say. He looked like he was glued to the horse, whereas she felt precariously perched, about to tilt off to one side half the time. The guy clearly had some kind of astounding sense of balance that she lacked.

  She could already tell that after she dismounted, her legs were going to let her know that she didn’t use some of those muscles for anything else. Riding was harder on the body than it appeared. The idea of going any faster than a walk was laughable. She had a new appreciation for all those Old West cowboys. Riding the range must have been a lot tougher than it looked on TV. And John Wayne must have had legs of steel to play cowboys in the movies for so many years. Ouch.

  Even though she was tired from the ride and her emotional meltdown, Brigid felt better than she had in a long time. Probably years. Clay was easy to talk to and didn’t seem to think she was a nut, even after she’d wept all over his shirt.

  Everyone said that Army wives forged unique bonds because they had to move so often. Supposedly, these women had deep friendships that lasted through the ages. But that wasn’t the case with Brigid. She’d always worried that there was something wrong with her because she felt like an outsider looking in at a party she hadn’t been invited to attend. Maybe it was because she was afraid they’d find out what her marriage was really like. It was a relief to know that here, for once, she wasn’t going to have to move and leave her nascent friendships behind.

  She had no idea why, but she’d had more interesting conversations since she’d been in Alpine Grove than she’d had in all the other places she’d lived with John. Maybe she could ask Kat and Maria to come over to her house some time. They seemed to enjoy getting out, and it would be fun to laugh with girlfriends about silly stuff.

  After returning to the barn, Brigid successfully navigated Willy next to the mounting block and managed to get off the horse without her rubbery legs flying out from under her, causing a humiliating incident. Clay took Willy from her, unsaddled him, and explained where everything was supposed to be put away in the tack room.

  The old clock on the wall indicated that they’d been out riding for quite a while. Clay was undoing the cinch on Hank’s saddle when she walked over to them. “I should feed and walk Judge again and then go back to town and tend to Nugget. Poor Gypsy is going to wonder what happened to me. I’m glad she has a doggie door at the house. She loves sleeping out on the back patio in th
e sun. It’s so cute.”

  He pulled the saddle off the horse and walked to the tack room with it. “You’re gonna put a lot of miles on that car coming out here so much.”

  “I don’t care. It’s already old and tired.”

  As he unhitched the horses, he said, “I know the feeling.”

  “You’re not old.”

  “Sometimes it feels like it.” He walked by her and smirked, “I’m pretty sure I’m a whole lot older than you are.”

  “I don’t know about that.” She hustled up to walk alongside Willy as Clay led the horses toward the pasture. She looked around Willy’s nose at Clay. “When did you graduate from high school?”

  “1975.”

  “At least you didn’t have to worry about getting drafted.”

  “I would have been 4-F anyway. Medical deferment.”

  “For what?” She looked at him. “You’re in incredible shape.” Particularly compared to her.

  “I ride better than I hike.” He pointed toward the large red barn. “When I was at the doctor one time, they told me I have flat feet.”

  She looked down at his boots, which revealed nothing. “Oh.”

  “You need good feet to tramp through jungle swamps I guess.” He looked at her. “When did you graduate?”

  “1983. See! You’re not that much older than I am.”

  He glanced at her. “You sure look young. I don’t suppose you skipped a few grades, did you?”

  “No. It’s because I’m so short. Everyone thinks I’m in junior high.”

  “Well, I didn’t think you were that young. I’m not some creepy old guy like in that book everyone had to read in school.”

  “You mean Lolita? Eww.” Brigid pushed her hair back behind her ear. “Personally, I don’t think I look that young. When I actually was twelve or thirteen, I looked like Pippi Longstocking.”

  Clay chuckled. “With freckles and pigtails?”

  “Yes, and buck teeth. I got braces when I was fourteen to fix that. And the freckles on my face faded as I got older, which helped lower the Pippi effect.”

  He opened the gate to the pasture, removed the halters from the horses’ heads, and let them run into the vast grassy area to graze. Turning to her, he smiled. “You certainly don’t look like Pippi now.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “It was meant as one.”

  Brigid wasn’t sure what to say. Was he actually flirting with her? It had been so long, she didn’t even know how that dynamic worked anymore. Maybe it was just friendly conversation. It had to be.

  Clay gestured toward the house. “Do you want something to drink before you walk the dog? Riding can be pretty tiring if you don’t do it often.”

  “I noticed. I may not be able to walk upright by the time morning rolls around.”

  They walked companionably toward the house. Once again, Scout was standing behind the glass door looking eager to come outside. Brigid turned to Clay, “Does he ever go out on rides with you?”

  “Usually he does. But new riders can find a dog running around distracting. I figured it was better to let him continue his nap.”

  Clay opened the door and the dog shot out toward the horse barn.

  Brigid laughed, “Is he heading for his cats again?”

  “Yup, Scout has his routines and you don’t want to get in the way. Working dogs need to get their jobs done. He takes his responsibilities pretty seriously.”

  “Do you think he’ll be okay with Judge?”

  “Yeah, he’ll probably just ignore him and the greyhound too, if the dog ends up here.” Clay handed her a glass of water. “Scout is mostly interested in his cats, not dogs.”

  Brigid sat down and her tired muscles seemed to all relax at once as if they were melting into the chair. The urge to put her head down on the table and take a nap was considerable. The old farm house had a comfortable lived-in feel that was calming. Although the oak kitchen cabinets had obviously seen a lot of use, all the wood made the room seem warm and inviting.

  She was curious about what it was like for Clay to return after growing up here. Although he’d mentioned it during their earlier conversation, it also seemed like there was quite a bit he wasn’t saying.

  Clay put down his glass. “Well, I’ve got to go and deal with a horse with bad feet. Make yourself at home.”

  Brigid scrambled to get up. “I’ll just walk Judge and get going.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Take as long as you need. I might see you tomorrow, depending on when you come by. If I’m not here, just do what you need to do. You know where everything is now.”

  As he grabbed his hat and walked out the door, Brigid was surprised to find she was sorry to see him leave. It had been an odd, exhausting, but surprisingly good day and she was looking forward to returning tomorrow.

  After walking and feeding Judge, Brigid returned to her house, ate, gave Gypsy a big hug, and went to the station to tend to Nugget. Not surprisingly, the dog was still there. It bothered Brigid that no one had come for him. Someone had obviously loved this dog, and Nugget’s owners might be frantically looking for him, for all she knew.

  On her way out, she detoured toward Jake’s office. He was eating a hamburger and as she approached the desk, he swallowed quickly and gave her an odd look. Brigid looked down at her dusty clothes. Maybe she should have changed. Oh well.

  He put the burger down on its paper wrapper. “Hey Brigid, how are you?”

  “I’m fine. I was wondering what you do to get the word out about the dogs here.”

  “Uh, what do you mean?”

  “If I had lost my dog, how would I know he’s here?” She gestured toward the back of the building. “That greyhound has a fancy collar with his name on it. Don’t you think his owners are looking for him?”

  “Maybe. The truth is, dogs don’t usually get claimed.”

  “Do you advertise?”

  “What do you mean advertise? Like in the paper?”

  “Yes—ads, flyers, posters. Something that says a dog was found.”

  Jake shook his head. “We don’t have time. Everyone knows this is where strays go.”

  “What about people visiting here? Tourists? How would they know?”

  “I dunno. Maybe they could ask someone?”

  Brigid sat on the corner of the desk. “I think something needs to be done about that. You must keep track of where the dogs are picked up, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I could make flyers and put them up in the area.”

  “I guess. If you want to.”

  She stood up again. “Okay. That’s what I’ll do. See you tomorrow.”

  Jake picked up his burger again and waved it. “See ya.”

  After Brigid returned to the house, she collapsed on the sofa in exhaustion. Gypsy jumped up next to her and sniffed at her blouse. “I know, Gypsy. I’m disgusting. I probably smell like a horse, but I suppose that could be interesting to you. To me, I just stink. Tomorrow I’ll ask Clay if you can go out there with me. You might like it.” Gypsy settled in next to her hip and curled up in a small ball.

  Brigid jerked awake at the sound of the telephone. Gypsy stood up and hopped off the couch as Brigid stumbled over to the phone. “Hello?”

  “Hey Brigid, it’s Jake. I’m just calling to let you know we got another dog in, so don’t be surprised tomorrow morning when you find another one here. After a holiday weekend, that tends to happen.”

  Brigid mumbled her thanks and hung up. She looked down at the dog. “Okay Gypsy, tomorrow I promise I’ll get my act together. I have so many ideas swirling in my head right now, but I’m too tired to think about any of it, so I’m taking a shower and going to bed.” The little dog wagged her tail and followed her up the stairs.

  The next morning, Brigid got up early and took another very hot shower in an effort to soothe her sore muscles. Then she sat at the dining room table and made a list of all the things she needed to do, the people she need
ed to call, and the things she needed to buy.

  The yellow legal pad was full by the time she finished doing a brain dump of everything she’d been thinking about over the last few days. One daunting prospect was that she really should get a computer and printer so she could make flyers. The list on the pad was ample evidence that no one could read her handwriting, except her. A computer would make it easier to create forms and documents as well.

  After going to the station and the ranch to tend to the dogs, the next thing she needed to do was research, so a trip to the Alpine Grove library was on the agenda.

  Brigid was disappointed to find that Nugget was still at the station and Clay was nowhere to be seen at the ranch. The new stray dog at the station was a short, round, female Shetland sheepdog mix that had been found wandering around the H12 motel parking lot in town. The stout sheltie’s most notable quality was the desire to eat everything in sight. When Brigid fed her, the dog wolfed down the kibble so quickly that it was a little disturbing. After looking her over, Brigid considered the possibility that the dog may have been doing some serious dumpster-diving at the motel, given the pieces of food and stains on her sable coat.

  After coming home and eating lunch, Brigid ventured out to the Alpine Grove library, which was located on the other end of town from her house. As she walked up the concrete steps, she admired the brick building, which was obviously old and had been restored. Maybe it was a historic landmark or something.

  She walked through the glass door and looked around. Across the lobby, a woman with curly reddish-blonde hair sat at the checkout desk. She looked up from her book and smiled. “May I help you?”

  Brigid said, “Could you point me to the books on nonprofit organizations and fundraising?”

  The woman got up eagerly. “Fundraising is in the 360s, right over here. Follow me. Then I’ll show you where the information on nonprofits is located. It’s in a different section.” She looked behind her at Brigid. “Are you planning to start an organization? I’d be happy to help you do some research.”