Gem

by Jane B. Mason

  Bud rolled over onto his back and stretched, opening one eye in a hello to the golden retriever. He let out a single meow and shimmied a little on his back, then arranged himself so that Gem had easy access to his ears.

  During the days and weeks of sick, Gem slept a lot and dreamed of digging in soft scented earth. In her dreams she dug and dug, and nobody yelled or told her she was a bad dog. She was free to send the dirt flying. But no matter how deep she burrowed into the earth, she never found what she was digging for.

  Gem stopped licking Bud’s ears and rested her chin on her own paws. She let out a long exhale. Life on the ranch was good—the best she’d known. There were a lot of people here who made her feel welcome and loved. She had Juniper and Bud and Roxanne and Eloise and all the Sterling kids. She was almost always warm and was always fed and by now her bed smelled like home (and her favorite cat). She adored training and walking and being given peanut butter globs. But still, she dreamed of digging … digging for something else.

  Another big exhale ruffled Bud’s soft fur. Yes, digging for something else. But … what?

  The door to the pavilion opened, and Gem forgot all about digging dreams while her tail began to thump. Juniper! She got to her feet and stretched low in front and high in back. A good doggy s-t-r-e-t-c-h!

  “Who’s the best dog?” the girl’s lilting voice echoed in the cement-floored building. Gem wondered what was going on. It wasn’t time for peanut butter, and they had already done training today. And Juniper sounded different than usual—her voice was higher, and she smelled a little nervous. Plus there were other smells drifting into Gem’s black-tipped snout, too. Unusual smells. This was a special visit.

  Juniper rushed to Gem’s kennel, and Gem licked the girl’s fingers through the fence. Someone had come in behind the girl. Yes! That was where the different scents were coming from. The person, Gem saw, was a grown-up woman. She smelled like salt water and sunscreen and was stopping at every kennel to greet the dogs inside, one at a time. Gem cocked her head and listened to the sound of her voice, which was solid and calm. Juniper was watching her, too, and Gem couldn’t quite smell whether Juniper liked her or not.

  When she got to Gem’s kennel, Gem thumped her tail on the floor while Bud squeezed under the gate and weaved in and out of the woman’s legs, purring. Loudly.

  Juniper sighed, feeling extremely torn. She didn’t want to move over and let this woman meet her Gem. And she also did. And she didn’t. And she did.

  Laurel waited patiently, sensing that something was going on with her young tour guide. At last Juniper stepped aside. “This is the dog I was telling you about!” she said, trying to sound excited but feeling like she was being ripped in half. She wasn’t sure why she brought this lady straight to the canine pavilion. She knew she wasn’t supposed to be introducing her to Gem on her own. And yet her feet just tromped this way.

  “Matching up people and dogs is what Pedro and Roxanne usually do,” she confessed. “Roxanne’s the dog trainer. Pedro’s the people trainer.”

  Laurel chuckled at the term “people trainer,” but couldn’t really deny the fact that human beings could be tricky and often needed training … herself included! “Yes, I’ve talked to Pedro. He mentioned a dog,” Laurel confirmed.

  “But of course it’s all up to the dog if they like you or not,” Juniper continued as if Laurel hadn’t said a word. She crossed her arms over her narrow chest and eyed Laurel doubtfully, as if to question her worthiness.

  Laurel took a small step back, surprised to be intimidated by this young person. She hadn’t been expecting to be raked over the coals by a kid! She turned her gaze back to the golden dog wagging patiently in her enclosure and reached for the latch on the kennel. “May I?” she asked.

  Juniper narrowed her eyes even further and huffed a little. She wanted to say no … she knew she should say no. They weren’t even supposed to be in here! The ranch had a whole protocol about handlers meeting dogs. But usually there were several new handlers, and right now there was only Laurel, and her mom and her sister saw her leave the pavilion, and …

  Juniper took a breath to stop all her thinking. The truth was, she was dying to see how Gem would respond to this lady. “Okay.” Juniper gave a nod and scooped up Bud to give herself something to hold while she watched the interaction.

  Laurel unlatched the gate and stepped inside the kennel. She knelt down and let Gem sniff her all over and lick her hands. “Hello, Beauty,” she crooned. All the dogs she’d seen in the pavilion were standouts, but the unsmiling little girl was right, this one was special.

  The pup had eyes the color of an autumn sunset, the kind of eyes a person could get lost in. The desire to please oozed out of her like honey from a honeycomb. Laurel felt the soft fur on her flank. Pedro had said he had a specific dog in mind for her, a dog who worked well on land and in and around water. She hoped this golden girl was the one.

  Juniper squeezed Bud and swallowed. This was hard! Both she and Laurel were still gazing at Gem when the door opened and two more Sterling kids came in, arguing. When they saw the crowd in Gem’s kennel, they both stopped short.

  “Juniper?” Morgan called her sister’s name, her voice full of questions.

  “What’s going on?” Forrest added, clearly surprised, and not in a good way.

  Laurel got to her feet and came out of the kennel to introduce herself.

  “Guys, this is Laurel,” Juniper said.

  Laurel shook hands with the newcomers.

  “This is Morgan and this is Forrest,” Juniper said without enthusiasm.

  If the family resemblance hadn’t made the kids’ relationship clear, the tension between them did—the air almost crackled with it. Both Morgan and Forrest were looking at their little sister like she was off her rocker.

  “Where is Pedro?” Forrest asked pointedly.

  “Or Roxanne?” Morgan emphasized the last syllable of the lead trainer’s name.

  Laurel was beginning to sense that she and Juniper might both be in trouble, but Juniper ignored her older siblings as effectively as an aloof cat. “How should I know? I’m not in charge of them …”

  Sighing, Morgan and Forrest exchanged a “this is going to be interesting” look.

  “Nice to meet you,” they said, almost in unison, before getting to work caring for the dogs.

  Laurel wasn’t sure what was next, but when she turned back to Juniper, the girl was tapping her foot on the floor and eyeing her with suspicion all over again. “Do you know how much kibble a fifty-pound dog should get?” she asked. Laurel was about to answer, but the girl didn’t give her the chance. “Two cups per meal. It’s not good to overfeed a dog. You may think you’re giving them a treat, but it can take years off their life by forcing them to carry around extra weight, which is hard on their organs and joints.”

  Laurel blinked. “Hey, I’m not the enemy here,” she replied to the overprotective kid. “I’m all about dogs and what’s best for them. I’ve had a SAR dog before. I know what I’m doing.”

  “Before?” Juniper echoed. “Why don’t you have a SAR dog now?”

  Laurel felt her brow furrow as a wash of sad memories flooded her mind, followed by a flash of resentment. Who was this kid? Her personal history with dogs was just that … personal.

  Morgan, who’d been listening in, took a step toward the two of them to try to play the peacemaker, when thankfully the pavilion door opened and Roxanne came in with Captain.

  “Oh, hello!” she said, caught off guard. Captain was excited by the presence of a new person and wiggled his back end as he waited for permission to get closer. “I’m Roxanne Valentine, and this big guy is Captain.” Roxanne let the dog greet Laurel and then put him in his kennel before shaking the woman’s hand. “We’ve just finished our afternoon training session. I didn’t know you’d arrived!”

  She raised an eyebrow at Juniper but said nothing. “When the dogs are fed, you three can head off to dinner,” Roxanne told the k
ids in a voice that let them know it wasn’t a request. She smiled at Laurel. “I’ll take you to meet Pedro, then you can get settled. You must be tired after your drive.”

  Reeling a little, Laurel just nodded. She gave Gem one last look and followed Roxanne out the door. She felt Juniper’s eyes on her back. No doubt the girl wished they were lasers.

  “You haven’t told her?” The exasperation in Roxanne’s voice was unmistakable. Pedro felt it as much as he heard it and in a way it was almost a relief, because he’d been feeling exasperated with himself, too.

  “No, I haven’t. And to tell you the truth I’m not sure why,” he confessed. He leaned back against the counter where they prepared the dogs’ food and gave Roxanne a sheepish look. “I guess I just wanted Laurel to come and give Gem a chance—”

  “Without knowing she has Lyme disease? I mean, that’s a pretty big complication to pull out after she’s driven halfway up the coast of California.”

  Pedro shoved his hands in his pockets and rooted around for a piece of forgotten candy. All he found was a wrapper, which he crumpled into a tight ball. He couldn’t even look at Roxanne. He felt like a kid disappointing his parents—a kid in trouble. Roxanne wasn’t his superior, though. She was his partner and good friend … which made disappointing her even worse.

  “You could have mentioned it on the phone or in email.” Roxanne sounded more baffled than angry. She was trying to understand.

  “I know.” Pedro’s shoulders rose in a feeble shrug.

  Roxanne turned and leaned an elbow on the counter beside him. “You know Lyme disease can recur, right? It can cause problems with the heart and kidneys down the line if it flares up. You don’t want a handler going into this without full and complete disclosure about the dog …” She trailed off. She wasn’t sure why she was telling Pedro this—it was stuff he already knew. “The good news is Gem is doing great. The bad news is that doing great is not a guarantee. And now, thanks to an accidental oversight and Juniper being, well, Juniper, she’s already met Gem.”

  Pedro nodded, and Roxanne put her hand on his shoulder. She could tell by his hangdog face that he was already feeling terrible about the situation. He was the one who’d initially lectured her about the importance of entering into a canine partnership with eyes open, with all the critical information revealed to everyone involved. A dog’s health clearly fell under “critical.”

  Roxanne couldn’t help blaming herself in part for the predicament. Most training operations would have ruled Gem out as soon as she was diagnosed, but that wasn’t the choice that she had made. She’d also let an insistent, spunky nine-year-old participate in training her.

  “I thought it would be easier to tell Laurel what the situation is after she met Gem, though it’s certainly not feeling that way now.”

  Roxanne nodded. She got it. It wasn’t always easy to do what they did. They invested so much in the dogs and people they trained. They created heroes. The expectations were high. And hopes were high, too. On top of which, they were all human, and humans were notorious for making mistakes.

  “I’ll tell her, though. The next time I talk to her on my own, I’ll tell her everything,” Pedro said. And, he realized, he meant it. Now that Roxanne knew the truth, he had little choice.

  Turning, Roxanne opened her arms wide to her friend. There was no sense in piling on! She squeezed him in a hug, and he squeezed back. She knew he would do the right thing.

  If anyone had told her two months ago that there was anything good about getting up at the crack of dawn, Juniper probably would have told that person to get their head examined. But after getting used to her early morning check-ins with Gem, Juniper had discovered that she actually liked the calm moments before the rest of the world was up. The ranch was almost always a busy, noisy place. Only in this pre-alarm time, when the light from the rising sun was still rosy and the air from the fading night was still chilly, was there a reliable quiet. There were no motors or barks or pinging cell phones. It felt like a time that was all her own. Well, hers and Gem’s and Bud’s.

  “Good morning,” she whispered as she stepped into the pavilion. She spoke softly so she wouldn’t wake the other dogs, or Bud, who did not share her feelings about dawn. Gem was usually awake and waiting, and would wag quietly as soon as she saw Juniper.

  “Good morning,” a voice answered back.

  Juniper blinked in the dim light and stopped where she stood. Laurel was not only in the pavilion, she was in Gem’s kennel, sitting on the dog bed and petting Gem. Her Gem!

  “You’re up early,” Laurel said, a little louder. Her voice was friendly, but Juniper didn’t feel much like making friends.

  She stared at the athletic woman cradling her favorite dog as the scowl on her face deepened. Gem wagged, waiting for Juniper to come say her hellos, but instead she turned and walked straight to the food counter. She banged the bowls and measuring cup and kibble around, not waiting for Morgan’s help like she usually did. She felt mad. Put out. Invaded. Gem was her dog!

  Except … Gem was not her dog.

  In a sudden flash, Juniper understood why Morgan, her always-perfect sister, often got mopey for several days each time one of her favorite dogs left the ranch with a handler. She always claimed she was really and truly happy for the new teams. And Juniper believed that she was, but could see now how a dog leaving could really put you in a funk. It was hard not to get attached. No, not hard. It was impossible.

  Juniper took the lid off the peanut butter and tucked in Gem’s pill. She carried the coated medicine along with the food bowl over to the open kennel. Gem got up to say hello and sat waiting expectantly for her medicine. She accepted it like a treat and then dug into her breakfast.

  Laurel stood up, and they both watched Gem eat. “What was that you gave her in the peanut butter? Fish oil? Is that why her coat is so glossy?” she asked. She hadn’t stopped smiling since Juniper came into the pavilion.

  Juniper could tell the handler was trying to make conversation—to be friendly. But she still wasn’t having it.

  “It’s medicine. For Lyme disease,” she said. “Gem was really sick, you know. She almost died.” The words were out of Juniper’s mouth before she could think them through. Part of her wanted Laurel, who was obviously smitten with Gem, to partner with the rosy golden and give Gem a great life. And part of her wanted Laurel to just go away. But now that the words had been spoken, Juniper wished she’d kept them inside. She wished she could snatch them back. And judging by the look on the older woman’s face, Laurel did, too. The forced smile was gone.

  “I … I was just stopping by before my morning run,” she stammered.

  Juniper suddenly noticed that Laurel was dressed in running shorts and shoes. She bounced lightly on her toes. She looked like she was searching for something else to say but not finding it. After a few awkward seconds, she turned and hurried out of the pavilion.

  Juniper’s chest felt like someone was hugging her too tight. She felt afraid. She’d already gotten a stern talking-to for introducing Laurel and Gem, and now her angry tongue might have messed things up even more. And for Gem! She looked into the pup’s eyes. There was nothing in them but forgiveness. Juniper tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Somehow Gem’s unconditional love made it all worse.

  Laurel stretched briefly outside the pavilion. She’d wanted to take Gem with her on her morning run, but that idea had been quickly scrapped. She wasn’t sure what to make of what Juniper had just told her. The girl was like a moody cat—friendly and purring happily on your lap one moment, and then suddenly turning and biting your hand. Still, the news that Gem had Lyme disease hit Laurel hard and put everything into question. Except her run.

  Laurel didn’t need a dog to go for a run. She’d been running without one for nearly two years now. No dog. No problem. No dog. No problem. She let the words repeat in her head, let them match the rhythm of her pounding feet. She told herself that life without a dog would be easier. It was easier
. But the thought of continuing to live without a dog made her feel hot behind the eyes. She blinked and picked up her pace, crunching up a small path that led to the outer edges of the ranch.

  Laurel tried to focus on her feet and moving forward, but after what Juniper had told her, all the worries she thought she’d put behind her were waiting to meet her right here on the trail: Dogs didn’t live as long as humans, the future was always uncertain, goodbye was always inevitable. And the truth was, no matter how long a dog lived, the end came too soon.

  An image of Bluto appeared in her mind along with a lump in her throat. He had been taken from her too young. And Lyme disease! She wasn’t sure she could handle the complications that might entail, or the potentially shortened life. Not again.

  She continued up the trail, turning left when she came to a split. A large Greyhound bus lying on its side loomed in the distance. The ranch was full of surprises. The facility was expansive, and the Sterlings went the extra mile to make sure there were realistic training areas for all kinds of disaster scenarios. She’d seen the destroyed buildings made to resemble a town hit by a tornado or earthquake, and the airplane fuselage. The sites were haunting and impressive all at once.

  After passing the bus she spotted another structure that hadn’t been on her tour—a trailer. It wasn’t spooky in the least, however … it was downright homey! The small mobile home was sturdy and tucked into the California landscape. It was neither abandoned nor destroyed. It looked as though it had been planted there like the tidy rosemary and oleander bushes lining the attached porch. As she admired the brightly colored curtains in the windows, she saw one move, and a moment later Pedro opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch.

  “Laurel!” he called.

  Laurel smiled and came closer. A little out of breath, she put up her hand in greeting.