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

by Susan C. Daffron

  Scout settled into his dog bed in the living room, ready to resume his nap indoors while Brigid put the leftovers into the refrigerator. Since Clay wasn’t home yet, maybe she could make that reimbursement request form before Judith bankrupted her. Gypsy padded into the office behind Brigid and curled up in the dog bed in the corner. Brigid smiled. This was a very dog-friendly home with dog beds located in almost every room. Scout had many options for quality sleep time.

  The front door opened right after Brigid had uttered a very unladylike word at the computer. With a tiny squeak of excitement, she jumped out of the chair, walked out of the office, and found Clay in the kitchen. He was standing at the sink getting a drink of water, which was somewhat ironic because he was soaked and completely covered in mud. He turned around. “Hey there.”

  “What on earth happened to you?”

  “Well, it turns out that waterfalls might be one of those horse-eating things. If I’d put more thought into it, I would have considered the fact that there aren’t many waterfalls in the desert.”

  “You look like you’ve been mud-wrestling.”

  “Aren’t mud-wrestlers supposed to be women?” He looked down and grinned, his teeth looking extra white against the dirt coating his face. “I don’t think I’m built for that particular sport.”

  “I think men mud-wrestle too.” She waved off the comment. “But that doesn’t matter. Are you okay? You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

  “No, I’m fine. I was just standing there explaining to Aziz that he didn’t need to be afraid of the noise and we didn’t have to go through the mud all the way to the waterfall because it was too slippery.”

  “You slipped, didn’t you?”

  “Not exactly. I was leaning over looking at this weird spotted mushroom and Aziz nudged me with his big old nose so I lost my balance. I’m glad nobody saw it. I had a little trouble getting back up. I swear that horse was laughing at me.”

  Brigid smiled. “I brought the food. Are you hungry?”

  “Starving. I’ll go take a shower.”

  Brigid went out to walk and feed Judge, then busied herself in the kitchen heating up food. Even though Clay was filthy, his mood seemed far better than it had been earlier. Maybe there was something to be said for taking a horseback ride. For one thing, there were no phones out on the trail. She probably should call and check for messages on her machine, but she couldn’t face it. The world was just going to have to live without her this evening.

  Clay returned to the kitchen looking scrubbed and laundered. His bare feet were quiet on the old wood floor as he walked around surveying the array of plates scattered across the counter. He grabbed a crostini, took a bite, and made a theatrical expression of scrumptious pleasure. “Wow. TJ told me the food was good, but this is amazing.”

  “I haven’t cooked anything in ages. It was fun. You missed out on some of the best stuff though.”

  “If you make food like this, next time I promise I’ll show up.”

  Brigid put her hand on his forearm before he could snarf up another crostini. “I really appreciate you taking care of Judge last night.”

  “No big deal. We’re buddies now.”

  “So I want to ask you about some things.” She handed him a plate. “Maybe we could sit down instead of standing here inhaling food off the counter.”

  He took the plate and started loading items on it. “Did I mention I’m hungry?”

  “You did. You’re very focused.”

  Turning to the refrigerator, he pulled out a bottle of beer. “Want one?”

  “No, I have to drive home later.”

  “Suit yourself.” Clay settled into a chair with his beer and food. He paused in his consumption to look at Brigid across the table. “So okay, I think I’m not going to faint dead away now. Tell me about the meeting. TJ said you did great. I knew you would after all the work you did preparing for it.”

  Brigid grinned, happy to finally have his attention. “It went really well. All the dogs except for Judge have foster homes. And there are people who want to walk the dogs at the station while they are there. I couldn’t believe it.”

  “So no more chats with Jake, huh?”

  “No, except on the phone. That’s plenty. Oh, and Leslie, the woman who took the puppies, picked them up from the vet today too. I guess Dr. C. thinks the puppies might be mixed with pug.”

  “They’re little pug-sheltie mixes? So you’re saying people get to adopt a pugly?”

  Brigid burst out laughing. “Yes! I never thought of that, but you’re right. The pups are a bunch of little puglies. I love it! That’s even fun to say.”

  “You’ve definitely got yourself a marketing gimmick there.”

  “True. Advertising them could be fun too. It doesn’t hurt that they’re adorable. But that reminds me. Kat and Joel are going to help me with all the horrible computer stuff! So you can have your computer back.”

  Clay popped a chip in his mouth. “That’s a relief because you know how I was just clamoring to go do some accounting.”

  She laughed. “I noticed. I practically had to beat you off with a stick.”

  “Well, you might have to do that, but I can promise you it won’t be because of accounting.” He reached across the table and clasped her hand. “It’s great to see you so happy, honey.”

  “I finally feel like I accomplished something…real. It’s been such a long time. Even though it’s been a lot of work, I know these dogs will find homes now. I just know it. And I’m so grateful for your help.”

  “I didn’t do much, except provide an old, dirty barn.”

  “That’s not true and you know it.”

  “Hey, all the real work was your doing. I think you’re pretty amazing, in fact.”

  Brigid got up and went around the table to sit next to him. She took both his hands in hers and looked into his eyes. “Maybe, but you have been the best friend…more than friend…anyone could ever ask for.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way because I’ve been having more-than-friend thoughts again.”

  Brigid put her hand on the scruffy stubble on his cheek. “I have too, but I have to get home tonight.”

  “Okay.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “But you’ll let me know when you want to have another sleepover, right?”

  “I will. Gypsy seems to like it here, so I could bring her, and then I wouldn’t have to leave early. Thanks to all these new volunteers, the only dog I have to deal with is Judge and he’s already here.”

  “I’m liking the sounds of this. You’re quite a planner.”

  She gestured toward the plate. “Have some more food. I thought you were hungry.”

  As he bent his head to kiss her, he said, “I am, but not for food.”

  Clay helped Brigid put away the food and then kissed her goodnight. She drove home reluctantly. It was getting more and more difficult to leave. The night of the thunderstorm, being curled up with Clay in his embrace had made her feel so warm and safe. She often found herself daydreaming about it.

  Brigid fell into a comfortable routine over the subsequent few weeks. At last, she didn’t feel like she was constantly driving all over Alpine Grove like a mad woman. Although she still went out to the ranch twice a day to tend to Judge, the rest of the time she was free to work on other things.

  Many days she talked with Sonia on the phone or in person about fundraising and administrative issues. They were getting the nonprofit set up and considering a few ideas for events and PR opportunities.

  Brigid discovered to her delight that Sonia had a background in event planning. She had worked for a large professional association and planned conferences, so the older woman was a wealth of information. Although Sonia had seemed stand-offish at first, she’d warmed and now had a habit of calling Brigid “dearie” which Brigid had initially found condescending. But Sonia had explained that the word was a British term of endearment. Although Sonia had grown up in the United States, her mother was British and
had moved back to the UK to retire, so Sonia visited her frequently. From Sonia’s description, even at ninety-three, mum sounded like quite the force to be reckoned with.

  Sonia had one thing in common with Brigid. They were both widows, a fact that seemed to surprise them both, given their age difference. Sonia and her husband had moved to Alpine Grove to build their dream house on the lake, but he’d had a heart attack a week before they were scheduled to move in. For different reasons, neither spoke about their husbands. It seemed better for their tenuous friendship that way.

  After her husband died, Sonia had opted to stay in their rental apartment and listed the gorgeous new house for sale. Brigid had seen the photographs and couldn’t understand why it had been on the market for so long. Many of Sonia’s comments about her proposed travels were prefaced by, “When the house finally sells….”

  On Brigid’s morning trips out to the ranch, she almost never talked to Clay because he was usually out in the arena doing what Brigid thought of as “horse stuff.” But on the afternoon run, she’d bring food or he’d invent something for dinner. Almost every evening, they ended up sitting around the old kitchen table talking about the day.

  One morning when she arrived, it was unusually quiet. She walked Judge and put him back in his kennel. All of the horses were accounted for so maybe Clay was inside the house. When she’d seen him the night before, he hadn’t said anything about going anywhere. She smiled at the sound of the door opening and said, “Hi Scout” as the dog shot out toward the horse barn.

  Clay walked down the steps and waved. She ran up to him and gave him a hug. “I wondered where you were.”

  “On the phone. Aziz is heading back to Nevada soon.”

  “Really? You mean he’s trained?”

  “As much as he’s going be for the time being.” Clay gestured toward the barn. “I can’t keep him forever. That horse is worth more than this ranch.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. He’s got some mighty spendy bloodlines.” Clay took her hand and interlaced his fingers with hers. “So what are you doing now?”

  “I was about to head back home.”

  “Want to go for a ride instead?”

  Brigid let go of his hand. “I don’t think so. You know I’m not really good at that.”

  “Nobody is good when they first start out. You’ve been so busy working, you could use a break. Riding might help clear your head.”

  “I’m fine. Things are much better now that I have other people to help me.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, but you’d be doing me a favor. It would be great to take Aziz on a slow trail ride with someone else.”

  “Well, okay, I guess so.”

  “Hey, you might even enjoy it.” Clay smiled and gave her a kiss. “Let’s go get Willy.”

  After grooming and saddling the horses, Brigid got on Willy. Being on horseback didn’t feel quite as foreign and scary this time, although she once again encouraged the horse to be gentle with her.

  They rode down the driveway and Clay looked over at her. “Everything okay?”

  “I’m okay and glad Willy is a slowpoke.”

  As Aziz did a small sideways two-step, Clay reined him in. “That’s the idea. Aziz needs more experience with extreme-slow as a speed.”

  Brigid squeaked, “Don’t let him get so close!”

  “Aziz is just letting me know he’d rather go faster. I’m encouraging him not to. It’s fine.”

  “What if he hits me? Willy could jump up or run off and dump me on the ground.”

  “That’s unlikely, but I’ll give you more space if you want.” He hung off the side of Aziz and reached over to pet Willy’s withers.

  Brigid glanced at his hand, looked over at where he was, and clutched at the reins. “What are you doing?”

  “Just showing you that Willy doesn’t startle easily.”

  “Get back in the saddle before you kill yourself! Half of you is not even on the horse!”

  Clay rearranged himself and patted Aziz’s neck. “He’s being so good, pretending like he’s a trick-riding horse. We should reward him with a trot.”

  “I don’t want to trot. I thought the whole point was to go slowly.”

  “When you train dogs, don’t you give them a reward when they do what you ask?”

  “Yes. But this is different.”

  “Not really.”

  “You’re just bored. I’d rather not be on one of your more exciting rides where you gallop around and fall in the mud.”

  “Hey, he pushed me.” Clay stroked the horse’s shiny neck. “That wasn’t my fault.”

  Brigid laughed. “I bet it was funny though.”

  “Aziz thought so.” Clay turned Aziz up toward the forest trail and Willy fell in line behind them as they went into the trees. They rode for a while in silence, listening to the trilling of birds and the breeze whispering through the tree canopy above them. When the trail flattened and widened out, Clay waved to encourage Brigid to ride up next to him.

  Brigid gave Willy a little kick and was more prepared this time for him to lurch into a speed-walking motion. A little thrill of excitement passed through her. The horse did what she asked and she didn’t panic. She grinned at Clay. “Look, I didn’t fall off.”

  “Of course you didn’t.” He smiled. “Aziz still deserves a trot, you know. He’s being reaaally good here. You can do it. Just give Willy the word and he’ll move out.”

  “He won’t go faster than a trot will he?”

  “Not unless you tell him to. You remember what I told you before about slowing down, right? Just pull back on the reins.”

  Brigid took a deep breath, kicked Willy, and told him to trot. As instructed, the horse increased his speed to a remarkably uncomfortable trot. Brigid clutched at the saddle horn and bumped along for a few minutes before pulling back on the reins and returning Willy to a walk.

  She had been so focused on Willy, she had no idea what Clay was up to. She looked behind her and he grinned and waved before launching Aziz up next to her.

  As he rode up alongside her, he said, “That was great! Way to go. I had Aziz wait, so you wouldn’t get distracted.”

  “Thank you. I have to say trotting was unpleasant. Is it supposed to hurt?”

  “Well, posting helps. It’s easier on the butt. I can show you how if you like.”

  “Maybe later. My heart rate is finally starting to return to normal.” Brigid patted Willy’s neck. “He trotted though, and I didn’t fall off. What a good boy.”

  “He is. I figure that he likes anything better than dealing with cows.”

  “Was he really a ranch horse?”

  “Yeah, in his youth he was. He’s related to another horse I had. They’re both from a great line of quarter horses. We had a bunch over the years.”

  “I guess you must become attached to your horses, like I do with dogs.”

  “Absolutely. To this day, I still miss Pokey. I think about him all the time. He was the best horse I ever had.”

  “Oh no, are you telling me Gumby had a horse named Pokey?”

  “Yup. That’s where it came from.”

  Brigid burst out laughing. “I’m not sure I can ever look at you the same way.”

  “Hey, it’s not easy being green.”

  Chapter 8

  Moods & News

  A few weeks after the meeting, Brigid finally got the news she’d been waiting to hear. Instead of yet another complaint or long-winded monologue about dog training, Ed called to say that Layla had been adopted. He dropped off the schnauzer’s paperwork at Brigid’s house and she gave him a hug. The gruff man said he was going to miss the little dog, but went on and on about how fantastic the dog’s new family was.

  Brigid was bursting with such joy that even another call from Jake couldn’t ruin her mood. She loaded up Gypsy and some food into the car to head out to the ranch.

  She knocked on the front door and peered through the window. Clay waved fro
m within, and she went inside. Gypsy ran across the living room into the kitchen to sit next to Scout and closely monitor whatever Clay was up to.

  Brigid walked up to the counter, put down the grocery bag, and threw her arms around Clay’s neck. She stood on her tiptoes so she could give him a passionate kiss.

  He stepped back and grinned at her. “You’re sure in a good mood.”

  “Layla got adopted! It’s our first real adoption. I can’t believe it!”

  He handed her a plate with cheese and crackers on it. “Have a seat.”

  Brigid took the plate and settled in at the table to snack. “Ed came by. I guess it all went really well. It’s a wonderful home. Even talking to Jake didn’t bring me down.”

  “What did he want? Did another dog come in?”

  “Not today. I think he likes to call and whine at me. Remember I told you about a couple of volunteers who are walking dogs at the station—Maren and her friend Maddie? At the meeting, Maren looked like she was going to cry the whole time. I should have thought of it as foreshadowing, since apparently looks are not deceiving. Jake keeps calling me because Maren finds something to cry about almost every day and it’s stressing him out. I’m a little afraid Maren might be kind of nuts. She has this edge to her voice.”

  Clay sat down next to her at the table. “What about the other M—what’s her name—Maddie?”

  “I don’t know. She doesn’t seem to speak at all.”

  “So, what you’re saying is you’ve got plain and peanut M&Ms?”

  Brigid covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. “You have got to stop making me laugh while I’m eating.”

  “Hey, I just call them like I see them.” He pointed down at Gypsy, who was eying the cracker in his hand. “I see you brought your cohort. Did she want a field trip or something?”

  “No. I was hoping we could stay over.”

  Clay put down the cracker and looked at her. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”