by Lucy Gilmore
“I’ll just put Gigi on a loose leash,” Dawn said. “That’ll get her used to being tied up without feeling like she’s under some kind of punishment. Why don’t you tell Uncle where you want to go?”
“He knows how to find the spectator stands?”
“Well, no. But he should know how to find someone who can tell you how to find the spectator stands.” Dawn paused. “Ask him to find ‘help.’ He knows what that means.”
Adam felt a little foolish speaking to his dog in plain English, but only because he wasn’t used to having an audience. He talked to the cows all the time—even sang them songs when they were feeling nervous—but it wasn’t the same. “Okay, Uncle. Find us some help. We have a race to watch.”
It worked. With the competence he was coming to expect from the Great Dane, Uncle started moving away from the car. Adam had ridden enough horses in his lifetime to feel comfortable being attached to an animal—and in trusting one. If Gigi had been doing the leading, he might have been wary of cars backing into their parking spots or divots in the dirt under his feet, but Uncle knew what he was doing. He walked along, keeping pace with Adam, refusing to be sidetracked by the sounds and smells of hundreds of people gathering for an event.
“Wait—why’s he stopping?” Adam asked as Uncle’s movements started to slow.
“We’re coming up on a nice family lifting a cooler out of the back of their car,” Dawn said. “He wants you to stop and ask them for directions.”
“Oh. That’s smart. Can he tell the difference between nice families and serial killers?”
Dawn gave a gurgle of laughter. “You know, I didn’t think to include that in his training. Would you like me to work it in tomorrow?”
“Nah. I’d rather you train him to recognize attractive young women. Preferably single ones.”
A playful pinch sent a jolt down his arm. “If that’s what you want, then you’re much better off with me. I could give you the names and numbers of six potential candidates right now. I’m an excellent wingman.”
He didn’t doubt it. Dawn probably knew hordes of young, attractive, single women—and would, if he so desired, set him up with any number of them. And she’d do it all without a single glimmer of jealousy.
In order to be jealous, she’d have to care about him—about them—first.
“Excuse me,” he said as Uncle came to a complete stop. “Could you tell me how to get to the spectator stands?”
“Puppies!” A loud squeal drowned out any response the nice family might have made to his request. “Mama, look—two puppies!”
“Oh, um.” Adam cleared his throat. He knew, from what Dawn had told him during the first week of their training, that it was important to be firm with people when he was out with his service animals. No matter how much he might want to let squealing children pet Uncle and Gigi, they had to learn to ignore anything but the task at hand. “I’m sorry, but—”
“How clever you are,” Dawn said, her voice somewhere near the region of his feet. He assumed she was either squatting at the child’s level or at the animals’. Probably both, considering how much squirming Gigi seemed to be doing. “They are puppies. Most people take one look at this big guy and assume he’s like a hundred years old. But he’s only seven months.”
The girl giggled. “He’s hugemongous.”
“That’s true—and he’ll get even bigger as he grows up. When he stands on his hind legs, he’ll be as tall as your dad.”
“Gracie, honey, you can’t pet those dogs.” A woman’s voice, brisk but friendly, was followed by the slam of the car’s trunk. “They’re service animals. That’s right, isn’t it?”
“I’m afraid so,” Adam apologized. “And we’re training them to recognize when I need directions. Are the stands near here?”
“Sure thing, hon. What you’re going to want to do is head about ten feet to your right…” The woman continued with her directions. Adam knew he was supposed to be listening, and that the woman’s clipped recital of the easiest route to the stands was better than most people were able to provide, but Dawn and the little girl were distracting him with their continued discussion of the puppies.
“That small one doesn’t look very good at his job.”
“It’s a girl puppy, and between you and me, she’s not.”
“Oh. That’s too bad. What’s wrong with her?”
“You mean other than her love of chasing bugs and eating shoes?” Dawn waited for the girl’s giggle to subside before continuing. “Nothing. It’s just that some puppies are good helpers, and some aren’t. That’s all there is to it.”
“Did you get all that?” A man laughed as the woman finished her recitation of the directions, obviously aware that Adam had only been paying half attention. “It might be hard to find the path, but we can walk with you to where it starts, if you want.”
“Thanks, but my friend should be able to get us the rest of the way.”
“No problem. Come on, Gracie. Say goodbye to the nice lady and her puppies.”
“Bye, lady! Bye, puppies! See you later!”
The family moved off, but Adam and Dawn didn’t start walking right away. As if aware that something was holding him back, Uncle hadn’t made the least push to start moving again.
“What is it?” Dawn asked. Her hand touched his arm. “Why do you look as though someone just told you that you’re going to have to put one of the puppies down?”
Because that was essentially what had happened. Adam had known for some time now that Gigi wasn’t likely to win any guide dog awards, but he’d been holding out hope that she might be able to step in and give Uncle the occasional day off. Unfortunately, not only was the harness an issue now, but that girl—a child—had noticed within five seconds that Gigi wasn’t suited for the life he had planned for her.
Some puppies are good helpers, and some aren’t. That’s all there is to it.
“She’s never going to be any good at this, is she?” he asked. He put his hand out only to have Gigi leap full tilt into it, almost oversetting his balance. Only Uncle’s solid bulk kept him from sprawling in the dirt. “No matter how much work we do, no matter how much time she spends on the ranch. She’s always going to be like this.”
Lots of women—men too—would have used this opportunity to remind him that this was precisely what she’d said from the start. It had never been Dawn’s intention to give him Gigi, even less to spend six weeks of her life training Uncle as an alternate. She had every right to be frustrated with him, with the job that had been foisted on her, with the fact that he’d practically forced her into helping Bea Benson with her nonsensical chores in an effort to get Gigi back.
But not Dawn. With her familiar laugh, she said, “Oh, hell no. Don’t you dare.”
“Don’t I dare what?”
“Reverse psychology me.”
“Is that what I’m doing?”
Her fingertip hit the middle of his chest and stayed there. “I can tell you right now that your evil machinations won’t work, so you can wipe that smirk off your face.”
“I wasn’t aware that I was smirking. Or, for that matter, reverse psychology-ing you.”
She drew closer, her finger still wedged between them. Something about that connection—her hand the only thing separating their hearts—made him suddenly feel relaxed. Well, either that or the fact that her laugh was the one thing in the world that had the capability of lighting his whole world. “You think that if you suddenly start telling me that Gigi is no good, I’ll fight harder to make her work out.”
“Um…”
“You think the challenge will only make me want to prove you wrong.”
“Does it?”
She laughed, her mouth so close to his by now that he could feel, smell, taste the ruffle of her breath. “A little bit, yes. I never could resist a dare.”
Adam believed it. He also believed that nothing would make him happier than having Dawn prove him wrong about Gigi—about everything. “So…if I told you that you’re no good, either, would you fight to prove that wrong?”
Her answer came immediately. “Yes.”
His heart leaped in his chest, the steady beat so off-kilter that he was afraid Dawn must have somehow been able to feel it. “Oh, yeah?” he asked, striving to keep his voice level. “What would you do? How would you fight?”
“You already know the answer to that, Adam.” Her voice was low and sultry and dangerous. He didn’t realize just how dangerous until she placed her palm flat on his chest and began a slow, tortuous journey down his abdomen. Every movement of her fingertips over his body was both a promise and a threat. “Dirty. I fight dirty.”
“Adam! What are you doing?” Phoebe’s voice broke in just as Dawn grazed the top of his jeans. He jumped back, startled into immediate action, but Dawn only laughed.
“Hey, Phoebe,” she said easily. “I guess you caught us.”
“I didn’t know you guys… You never said…” The sound of Phoebe running a hand over Gigi’s head was followed by “Yes, Gigi. That’s enough. You’re beautiful and perfect and everything I want in the world, but you have to get down.”
The puppy’s misbehavior didn’t bother Adam nearly as much as it might have a few minutes ago—and not just because Dawn had promised to fight dirty for him. He was too busy trying to discover what kind of damage control was needed now that he and Dawn had been caught in the act.
They’d have to admit their relationship. They’d have to come out in the open. They’d have to move forward as two people who were unquestionably sleeping together.
And the only thing Adam felt about any of it was profound, enthusiastic relief.
“I wish I’d have known you two were coming. I would have reserved front-row seats.” Phoebe wound her arm through Adam’s. “They designate a few for family members, but they fill up fast. You’ll have to make do with some dusty outpost. You don’t mind, do you?”
Adam’s relief disappeared in a flash.
“I mean, Zeke’s going to be crazy excited that you’re here no matter what. And surprised. You didn’t say a word this morning, you sneak.”
“He’s been planning it for weeks,” Dawn said in a calm, easy lie. “Now that he has Uncle to lend him a hand, it seemed as good a time as any.”
Phoebe paused long enough to plant an affectionate kiss on Adam’s cheek. “That was really sweet of you, Adam. It’s going to mean so much to him to have you here. Lately, he’s been feeling…well…you know.”
On the contrary, Adam didn’t know, but he was starting to get a sense of the general lay of the land. And to be perfectly honest, he didn’t feel as though he stood on stable ground. It shouldn’t have been that much of a shock for him to be here today. If the bubbling voices in every direction were any indication, this was a well-attended race. Family members, friends, people who just liked being supportive—they were all here in abundance.
Because this was a normal thing to do. Run triathlons. Be supported by those you love. Live a life that didn’t include twenty-four hours a day of chasing down rogue cows and fixing irrigation systems and trying to buy up the neighboring lands.
“He’s feeling cooped up?” Adam suggested. When that elicited no response, he tried again. “Hog-tied? Fenced in? Imprisoned?”
“Not imprisoned,” Phoebe protested. “Let’s just say he’s been feeling his lack of a social life lately.”
Dawn laughed. “I tell him all the time that I’m the only real friend he has, but he thinks I’m being full of myself. I’m obviously much more important to his well-being than he realizes. Yours too, Adam.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I realize it just fine,” he admitted. These days, it was pretty much the only thing on his mind. “I never would have come out here if it wasn’t for you. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she said and left it there. She also turned her attention to Phoebe with a sharp reprimand. “Now let go of your brother’s arm so Uncle can lead him to the stands. Unlike you, I don’t have a day off today—and neither does Uncle.” In an exact imitation of Bea’s voice, she cackled and added, “Just like a Dearborn, slacking off when there’s work to be done.”
Phoebe burst into laughter at that, but Adam couldn’t help feeling hollow. As happy as he was to be here—and as thrilled as he was to find that Uncle was exceeding expectations—he could no longer pretend there was any hope of keeping Gigi for himself. The only problem was that he couldn’t admit it out loud. To acknowledge defeat, to relinquish his negligible hold on Gigi, would also mean letting Dawn go.
And that, unfortunately, was something he was finding it more and more difficult to do.
Chapter 11
Dawn might not have been adept at making dinner, but she was excellent at making reservations.
“Yes, there will be four of us, and we want the best seat you have in the house. We’re celebrating tonight.” She pressed the phone against her shoulder and glanced over at Zeke. He was leaning against the now-empty spectator stands, but the fact that he was still on his feet was a testament to how good an athlete he was. Dawn was exhausted just thinking about how many miles he’d covered today. “Can I tell them it’s your birthday? I don’t think they give out congratulations-you-won-a-triathlon cake, but they do this amazing flourless chocolate thing for birthdays.”
She didn’t wait for an answer. The chocolate was that good. “Yes, it’s a birthday. Four birthdays, actually. We’re quadruplets.”
“Make it triplets,” Adam called from where he was sitting and lavishing praise on Gigi for not making a meal out of Zeke’s sweaty running shoe. “You’ll have to celebrate without me. I’d like to get back to the ranch before it gets dark.”
A chorus of protests went up around them. Phoebe’s was the loudest, though how that woman had any of her voice left after all the cheering she’d done today, Dawn had no idea. Zeke had easily won the competition, but they’d been caught up in the spirit of the chase quite a few times. Her own throat felt awfully scratchy.
“It won’t be the same with just the three of us,” Phoebe said with a pout of her lower lip. “Come on, Adam. It’s only another hour or two. What difference will it make?”
“Do you want the actual answer to that? Because I can recite a whole list—and most of it involves cattle in various states of neglect. There’s no telling what’s happened at the ranch in our absence. For all we know, Dawn has escaped and made it to the Canadian border by now.”
“I’m sure they’re fine,” Phoebe protested. “They’re cows. And someone would have called us by now if Dawn was making a nuisance of herself or the place was burning down.”
“Are you sure about that?” Adam countered. “The Smithwoods would love to watch us go up in smoke, and if there’s a fire, I’m guessing Bea Benson isn’t too far away holding the match.”
Dawn would have laughed out loud at this pessimistic—if accurate—summary of the situation back at Dearborn Ranch, but no one else seemed to see the irony. She was the one everyone assumed lived a life of chaos and intrigue, but she obviously didn’t have a monopoly on it. She’d never met a family so determined to make everything more difficult than it needed to be.
As if to prove that, Phoebe’s pout deepened. “I knew this would happen,” she said. “I knew we couldn’t just enjoy an entire day off together.”
“There’s no such thing as a day off when you live on a working ranch.”
“The Smithwoods take days off all the time. That’s what hired hands are for.”
Dawn felt it was timely to intervene before things descended into a squabble. In a voice that was audible to both the hostess on the phone and all three of the Dearborn siblings, she said, “You know what? Let me place an order for pickup.” Withou
t waiting to take requests, she ordered all of her own favorites—lasagna and pasta primavera and parmesan-encrusted tilapia and an entire flourless chocolate cake to wash it all down. If any of the Dearborns didn’t like it, that was too bad. She was planning a goddamned party.
“An hour?” she asked as the hostess completed the order and rattled off the total. “Yes, I can make that work. Thanks.”
When she hung up, it was to find their entire party looking sheepish and ashamed of themselves. Well, Phoebe and Adam looked ashamed of themselves. Zeke mostly looked sweaty.
“It’s just as easy to have the celebration back at the ranch,” Dawn said in a matter-of-fact voice that was meant to rob the situation of any more drama. “Plus, this way I can pick up a whole case of cheap wine for us to share. I don’t know about you guys, but there’s no way I’m pairing the world’s best parmesan tilapia with butterscotch schnapps.”
Phoebe glanced over at her, a glint in her eye. “Wait. How do you know about the—”
For the second time, Dawn felt a need for intervention. “Phoebe, you can take Adam back to the ranch and perform all the necessary bovine labors. I’ll run Zeke to my house so he can help me settle the puppies. By the time we’re done, the food will be, too, and we can bring it out. Voilà! Problem solved. Chocolate decadence acquired. It’s a shame she didn’t believe me about the birthday thing, though. Cake is always better when it’s free.”
Only Adam seemed to be aware of how hard she was trying to make this work. “Dawn—” he began.
She quelled him with a bright, cheery voice. “I know. I’m being overbearing and presumptuous and foisting myself on you without invitation. But you guys have to let me come over now. Otherwise, I’m just going to be a sad, lonely, single woman eating an entire chocolate cake by herself. And I will too. I’ll eat every last bite just to make you feel bad for abandoning me.”