Doggone Ugly Creek

by Cheryel Hutton

  “My brother’s dog. I couldn’t save her either.” His features filled with agony. “Or my brother.”

  “I’m so sorry.” My heart tore, and I wiped at my own tears.

  “That was a long time ago.” He raked a hand across his face. “Too long for a grown man to be blubbering like an idiot.”

  I rubbed his shoulder. “There’s nothing idiotic about crying, it releases pent up emotion that can cause physical problems—like heart attacks, for instance.”

  With slow, careful movements, he moved the burden off his legs. He stroked the dog’s head before he stood. “There’s a clearing out in the woods. I’ll bury her there.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  He met my gaze.

  “Go with me.”

  I’d been stunned when I found Ace in tears, but that was nothing compared to the emotional hit I took from knowing he was trusting me now. I tried to get the words to come out of my mouth, to tell him I’d be honored to go with him. That his asking me touched my heart. That seeing his reaction had melted a hole through the wall I worked hard to keep between me and other people. I tried to say all that, but the words just wouldn’t come. In the end, I simply nodded. It was all I could manage.

  He got a sheet and wrapped the dog’s body, handed me a shovel, then picked up the animal and the two of us headed out. At the back gate, we slipped through and Hugh tried to follow us.

  “Sorry, boy,” Ace said. “You can’t go, but I’ll take you for a walk later, okay?”

  Hugh lay down, put his chin on his paws, and gave us a big-eyed sad face. In spite of the situation, I almost smiled at his expression.

  It wasn’t a long or hard walk out into the woods, but it must have been rough for Ace carrying such a big animal. He showed no signs of fatigue or struggle, though. When we reached the clearing, he gently put down the sheet-wrapped body, took the shovel from me, and began digging like he was trying to dig out the pain in his heart.

  “I’d be happy to help you with that,” I told him. “I’m pretty good with a shovel.”

  “I need to do it.”

  He didn’t even look away from his task as he spoke. Hell, maybe he really did need the physical labor to deal with his grief. I’m an only child, so I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose a sibling, but if the anguish on Ace’s face was any indication, it had to be all but unbearable. I craved more information, but it wasn’t the time. Later I’d find out more details, and maybe by then talking would be helpful to him. There wasn’t much else I could do.

  A movement to the right caught my attention, and I looked that way. What I saw pulled a gasp out of me. “Ace.”

  He glanced at me, then toward the direction I was staring.

  “Hello, Abukcheech.” he said.

  The creature moved from behind the tree and looked at us with an expression that seemed very human.

  “Hello,” it said.

  I knew my mouth hung open, but I didn’t care. The only thing that I cared about at that moment was processing the fact that Bigfoot was standing four feet in front of me. Talking!

  Ace stood to face the giant hairy whatever-the-hell-it-was, while I held my breath and hoped the beast was friendly. “This is my friend Shay.”

  The beast gave me a small nod. “Hello, Shay.”

  The hair stood up on the back of my neck, but I wasn’t about to let Ace be the Bigfoot whisperer. My roommate is a shapeshifter, after all. I took a tiny step toward the creature. “You’re for real? I’ve heard rumors for years, but I wasn’t sure something like you was possible.”

  “We are here,” the big critter said.

  “Are humans invading your land?” I asked.

  The creature leaned his head to one side. “I do not understand.”

  “Does this land belong to the Dyami?” Ace asked. So, that’s what they were called.

  The Dyami’s face tightened much like a human frown. “Land not belong. Land is.”

  Like Native Americans. Interesting.

  Abukcheech looked at Ace and pointed to the sheet-covered dog. “Animal gone?”

  Ace’s jaw tightened as he nodded. “I came out here to bury her.”

  Abukcheech nodded. “I help.”

  “Thank you.” Ace said.

  Human and Dyami worked to prepare a grave. Maybe it wasn’t as odd as I would have thought that Bigfoot understood burial. No frigging wonder nobody had ever found a body. They must bury their dead.

  Ace gently placed the dog into the hole. Tears glistened in his eyes as he took the shovel and refilled the grave.

  When Ace finished, Abukcheech went looking for rocks to put over the grave, covering it like a turtle’s shell. “Keep animals out,” he said.

  “Thank you,” Ace told him.

  The Dyami nodded, then turned and headed back through the trees.

  “Wow,” I whispered.

  “Tell me about it.”

  He picked up the shovel and together we walked toward his place.

  “Why didn’t you tell me there were Bigfoot living here?”

  “You wouldn’t have believed me.”

  I started to argue, then realized he was right. I’d just seen the damn thing, and I still didn’t believe it. Sighing, I wondered what other little surprises lurked in and around Ugly Creek.

  When we got back, Hugh was still lying on the other side of the gate, waiting for Ace to return. When he saw us he got up, tail a blur as it wagged.

  “Hey, buddy.” Ace scratched Hugh’s head. “Thanks for keeping an eye on things while we were gone.”

  The affection Ace and Hugh had for each other brought a smile to my face and warmth to my heart. Hugh seemed to know it had been a rough day for his master, and was going out of his way to cheer him up.

  Ace stood to face me.

  “Don’t look at me that way.”

  “What way?”

  “Like I’m a sad, pathetic loser who cries over losing dogs I barely know.”

  My jaw dropped. “I don’t think that at all. I think you’re a strong, handsome man who just happens to have human emotions like the rest of us.”

  He gave me a totally unconvinced look.

  “Right.”

  I stepped closer and pressed my palm against his cheek. “No, really.”

  He touched the back of his fingers against my face.

  “You’re special, you know that?”

  My lips twitched in a small smile. “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  Maybe I need my head examined, but he looked so sad, and so cute, that I stood on my tippy-toes so I could put my arms around his neck. I figured he’d shove me away, instead, he put his arms around me and held me against him. He buried his face in my hair and I heard him breathing hard.

  He let me hold him longer than I thought he would, then he put his hands on my shoulders and used a gentle but firm push to move me away. He didn’t look at me, kept his gaze on the ground.

  I stepped back. “If you need anything, or just to talk, you know where I’ll be.”

  His gaze raised briefly to mine. “Thanks, Shay.”

  When I got to his gate, I looked back. Ace seemed so forlorn I almost turned around. Then I saw that Hugh had taken his place beside Ace, a look on his face that told me he was going to watch out for his master. Feeling better about leaving, I headed back to Aunt Ruth’s house. Ace wasn’t going to be alone.

  Maybe dogs weren’t so annoying after all. At least real dogs, not human ones who tended to make their cousin’s life miserable.

  Chapter 9

  I walked into my driveway looking forward to a shower, a quick dinner, and a few thousand words on the manuscript I was contracted to write. I saw Miz Carlisle over by her flowers and smiled her way.

  “Shay, can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Sure,” I said, going over to the fence. Why can’t I just be rude sometimes?

  The woman leaned as close to me as the wooden barrier allowed.
/>   “You’re going to have to do something about that mutt of yours.”

  Oh boy. “What did she do?”

  “Dug in my magnolias, that’s what that huge menace did. It’s mean to my sweet Bumpkin too.” She gave her baby a smile, and the cat looked up with the most innocent look I’ve ever seen. Even on Trixie. Dang, that feline was good.

  “Well? What are you going to do about it?”

  I snapped back to reality. “I’ll talk to her.”

  The woman’s eyebrows collided with the steel gray curls on her forehead.

  “I mean I’ll talk to my cousin. Trixie is Terri’s dog.”

  “I explained the problem to her, but it didn’t do any good. Poor Bumpkin is a nervous wreck because of that animal.”

  I managed a tight smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “You do that.” She turned her back and marched toward her house.

  Bumpkins looked up at me, and I could swear he smiled. Then he turned, stuck his tail straight up in the air, and followed his owner.

  I headed for the house, my mind bouncing between discovering Ace had depths I’d never have imagined and the crazy animal war going on in my own side yard. Well, Aunt Ruth’s side yard, the one I’m responsible for until she gets back.

  I found my cousin at the kitchen table, munching on a ham sandwich and staring at her laptop screen.

  “How was Ace?” she asked.

  I groaned. “Let me guess, you smell him on me.”

  “Actually, I smell dog on you.” She sniffed the air once and grinned. “Hugh, for one.”

  “That is so wrong.” I made my own sandwich and plopped down across from her. “Miz Carlisle stopped me outside to complain. Says Trixie dug up her magnolias and is scaring Bumpkin.”

  Terri rolled her eyes. “That cat could scare Freddy Kruger.”

  “And the flowers?”

  “Why would I do that? If I wanted to dig up flowers, I’d dig up yours.”

  I was glaring at her when a disturbing thought occurred to me. “It wasn’t Hugh, was it?”

  Her head jerked up, her expression somewhere between surprise and insult. “He wouldn’t go near that loony toon’s yard.”

  I held her gaze. “You’re sure?”

  “If he were here when I wasn’t, I could smell him. So, yes, I’m sure.”

  “Maybe it was that dog I saw this morning.”

  Terri shook her head. “She’s been complaining for days. Besides, I barely caught that guy’s scent. I don’t think he was anywhere near her precious blooms.”

  I bit into my sandwich, wondering what was digging in our neighbor’s yard. “Have you smelled any other animals around here?”

  “No,” Terri said. “But it could be a gopher or something underground. I wouldn’t necessarily have smelled one of them. Then again, I wouldn’t put it past the devil cat to dig in the flowers just to cause trouble.”

  She looked at me with a wide-eyed, puppy expression.

  “I’d love to spend hours complaining about Bumpkins the Nightmare Cat, but I have a deadline.”

  I groaned. “Me too.”

  We met each other’s gazes for an only a writer-with-a-deadline-approaching can understand moment. Then I grabbed the rest of my meal and headed for my bedroom. Like it or not, I had to finish my manuscript.

  ****

  Twenty-four hours and a pathetic, but hard-won, two thousand words later, I stood on the sidewalk of Ugly Creek’s historic downtown district. The red-brick building was a classic small Southern town structure, with big windows on either side of the door. A rustic wooden sign hung overhead announcing Blackwood Antiques.

  I opened the door and stepped into a spotless store filled with shelves of a mixture of mundane and unusual items spanning at least a couple of hundred years. I was looking around with a case of major curiosity when I caught a flash of robin’s egg blue out of the corner of my eye. I smiled toward the wearer of the sweet blouse. “Hello, Stephie. How are things?”

  She came around the big counter and moved my way.

  Her satisfied little smile suggested her handsome husband had something to do with her mood. “Fantastic. How are you?”

  “Fine.” I shoved back the little jealous twitch, and smiled. “This store is amazing. My muse is drooling, I think.”

  She grinned. “I’ll be happy to give your muse a friend’s discount if there’s anything she needs to drool over up close and personal.”

  I ran a careful finger over a beaded-and-fringed purse that must have been made in the nineteen-twenties. “She might take you up on that.”

  “Just let me know. Meanwhile would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “Sounds good.” I walked with her to the back of the store where she poured two cups from a machine behind the counter. “Have you heard anything about the break-in at Steve’s business?” I saw the flash of suspicion in her eyes and held up my hands in surrender. “I’m a novelist, not a reporter. I only pull out the journalism degree when fiction doesn’t quite pay the bills.” I touched her arm. “I saw how Liza and Steve looked after the break-in. I just want to know if they’re okay.”

  Her features softened. “I used to work for a newsmagazine in D.C.; they were serious about sniffing out anything that would sell issues. Not to mention, my best friend is a serious journalist. I learned a long time ago to watch what I said.”

  “Even with your best friend?” Crap, I’d said it before I thought.

  Stephie laughed. “She wouldn’t deliberately put me in a bad spot or anything, but if I said something interesting, she’d use what I said as a lead and go chase it down.”

  She gave my arm a quick squeeze.

  “I talked to Liza yesterday, and she sounded terrible. I think she’s beyond exhausted. She had to hurry back to work, but she did say things weren’t going well.”

  Emotion filled my throat and I had to swallow before I could speak. “I wish there was something I could do to help them.”

  “Me too.”

  The bell over the door tinkled, and a little, older woman dressed entirely in black leather entered the store.

  “Aunt Octavia!”

  Stephie rushed over to meet her, and I watched as the two embraced.

  Octavia’s head came up and her gaze snagged mine. Her smile seemed sincere, but there was something about it that twisted my stomach a little.

  They walked toward me. “Aunt Octavia, have you met Shay?”

  “Of course I have. She’s Ruth’s niece.”

  She took my hand in hers and touched my palm gently with the tips of her fingers

  “She has an interesting aura, but the spirits aren’t telling me why.”

  I smiled, or tried at least. “Maybe it’s my muse trying to get away from me.”

  She ignored my attempt at humor by closing her eyes and nodding slightly, as if she was listening to someone only she could hear. When she looked at me again, there was a seriousness in her eyes that caught my attention.

  “You have the key,” she said.

  “The key to what?”

  “I don’t know. You’ll have to figure that out for yourself.”

  What the hell? “Can’t you ask the spirits?”

  “The spirits tell us what they want us to know.”

  “But…”

  She put a hand on my shoulder. “Have faith, little sprite.”

  I opened my mouth to point out that I was taller than her, which was sad since I flirted with five feet, but she was on her way out the door.

  “Don’t take it personally,” Stephie said. “The spirits are always vague.”

  “You really believe she talks to spirits?”

  Stephie’s grin took me by surprise.

  “Let’s just say I learned the strange way that she’s the real deal.”

  I was about to ask her for details, but the door opened and two customers came in together. I sipped my coffee and watched. It was fascinating watching Stephie relating so well with the customers. She
was knowledgeable too, throwing out numbers, facts, and historical context like she’d been doing it all her life. I enjoyed watching her so much that I almost forgot that I had responsibilities of my own to attend to.

  Unfortunately, my wayward manuscript was due in less than a month, dang it all, so I snagged Stephie’s attention, waved in her direction, and headed back home.

  ****

  I pulled in the driveway to find Terri, Ace, and Hugh standing in the yard. I could see Terri had on her stubborn face. Ace’s hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. As I got out of the car, I saw Miz Carlisle pretending to work in her flowers while she watched the show. I thought seriously about getting back in the car and heading out of there. They were adults, after all.

  The thing was, I had no idea what Terri would do. Letting something slip would be bad enough with Ace. Miz Carlisle hearing something weird would likely be a disaster. So I headed toward the drama.

  Hugh rushed to greet me, stretching the length of the leash in Ace’s hand to its max. I scratched his head as I tried to figure out what was wrong now.

  “Having a dog is a responsibility,” Ace said.

  “I take care of Trixie.” Terri crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Really? Then why does she run around the neighborhood all alone?”

  Terri’s chin came up. “Trixie can take care of herself.”

  His face went purple, and I thought Ace was going to have a stroke right there on Aunt Ruth’s lawn. “Trixie is an animal. Animals depend on us to protect them. Letting her run loose is not protecting her. It’s actually extremely irresponsible.”

  Terri opened her mouth, but I got between them before she could say something she’d be regretting until her grandpuppies grew up. “Okay, time out!”

  “Trixie was at my house again.” Ace glared at Terri. “She jumped over the fence and ran away before I could catch her.”

  Terri glared back at him. “You’re just upset because she got away from you.”

  Well, this wasn’t going well. I shot Terri a warning glance. “Can we calm down, please?”

  “I don’t even know where Trixie went, or if she’s all right.”

  Ace looked worried, and I hated that I couldn’t explain. Maybe if it hadn’t been for Miz Carlisle, I’d have considered doing just that.