Rocky Point Promise

by Barbara McMahon

  She headed for her apartment. Time for a quick shower and breakfast. Hearing a soft, high-pitched squeal, she looked around. Nothing visible. Another two steps and she heard it again, more a mewling sound. Searching around, she saw nothing but wet asphalt and scraggly weeds. She went to the back of the building. There, huddled against the brick wall was a big yellow dog with four little pups snuggled up against her. One was making all the noise, squealing and pushing against his mother.

  “Well…hello, there. Did you just deliver those pups?” she asked softly, not going any closer. She looked around. Except for the dog and her puppies, Faith saw no one. “Where did you come from?”

  The dog watched her but didn’t move. Faith could see signs of delivery, and the tired mother and the wet puppies. The rain had soaked everything.

  “I think you need to get them in a warm spot,” she said, keeping her voice low. “And you, too, Mama Dog.”

  The dog wagged her tail and looked at the pups. Faith laughed. “You look surprised to see them,” she said, taking a careful step forward. “Where’s your home?” she asked softly, drawing closer. “Someone’s missing you.”

  The dog wagged her tail but didn’t move. She watched Faith steadily.

  “Okay, I’ll see what I can find out. Be right back.”

  Faith hurried back to her apartment. She looked up Animal Control in the phone book, but the closest one was in Monkesville. Hesitating a moment, she called the number listed for T. Johnson, hoping it was Tate’s.

  He answered.

  “I hope you hadn’t gone to sleep yet,” she said.

  “Faith?”

  “Yes. I found a mother dog and some just-born puppies. It’s raining and I’m afraid the weather isn’t good for the dogs. Will Animal Control come out to get them?” She paused to catch her breath. “I saw it’s in Monkesville. How early do they open?”

  “Yeah, they’ll come, but it’d be a while. Can you rig some shelter over them until an officer can get them?”

  “Maybe. I didn’t get too close, but the dog seemed friendly enough. She’s not wearing a collar, or I’d try to find her owner. I don’t think she should stay in the rain.”

  “What kind of dog?”

  “Yellow.”

  “The kind is yellow?” he asked drily.

  “No, that’s the color, sort of buttery yellow. It’s a big dog. I don’t know much about breeds.”

  “Friendly?”

  “Seems to be,” she replied. “But I didn’t get close enough to crowd her.”

  “Probably a yellow Lab or a golden retriever. Don’t know anyone in town who owns one. I can send a deputy.”

  She shook her head. “Not necessary. I’ll see if I can pick up the puppies and bring them inside until Animal Control arrives. If she’ll let me, then she’ll probably follow and get out of the rain.”

  “You don’t know that dog. She could be very territorial about the pups.”

  “I’ll be careful,” she promised. “But I’m not leaving her in the rain. It’s cold out there. And puppies are new babies—they need warmth, too.”

  She put on a long-sleeved sweatshirt and went back into the rain. Her hair was soaked. A hot shower before she went to work was definitely in order. But she couldn’t leave the puppies out in this weather. It was decidedly cooler than the day before, and the rain didn’t show much sign of abating.

  “Hi, Mama Dog,” she said when she rounded the corner. The dog wagged her tail, standing and walking the few steps to Faith. Carefully, she let the dog smell her hand, then patted the dog’s wet head. “You’ll catch a chill out here in this weather. Want me to bring your puppies inside? And you, too, of course? It’s warm inside.”

  The dog wagged her tail and looked back at the puppies. They were huddled together, eyes tightly shut.

  “Okay, then.” Faith took a breath and went to pick up the first puppy. The mother dog nudged him with her nose. Faith was amazed at how little and light the puppy was. She picked up the others, cradling them all in her arms with no trouble. “Come with me, Mama,” she said, walking slowly back to her apartment. The dog walked with her, nosing Faith’s arms a few times, as if assuring herself her puppies were all right.

  Faith took them right into the kitchen. The linoleum flooring wouldn’t be hurt by the dripping water. She ran to get a towel and dried the puppies and the mother dog, settling them on another towel on the kitchen floor.

  “I don’t have much food for a dog,” she said, looking in her cupboards. “You’ll take care of your babies, but I need to give you something. You must be exhausted. Probably hungry.”

  The dog settled with her pups and watched Faith move from the cupboard to the refrigerator. “Do you eat meat?” she asked, looking over. “I have some hot dogs I could cut up for you.” She drew the package out, chopped the remaining hot dogs and put them on a plate. Carrying it to the dog, she put in on the floor in front of her. In less than five seconds the meal was gulped. She filled a bowl with water and put it near the dog.

  “I guess you liked that. When I go out I’ll get you some real dog food.” Checking the clock, she rose. “I have to get ready for work, will you be okay here?”

  The dog didn’t move. Faith brought yesterday’s paper and spread it near the dogs in hopes that any accidents would be on the paper.

  She quickly showered and checked on the dog and the pups. She dressed and looked in on them again. Drying her hair, she wondered when she should call Animal Control. Maybe later. She’d do it after her shift. They’d be okay until then.

  Checking on her furry houseguests once more, she was pleased to see all of them fast asleep. Erecting a kind of barrier by laying her dining chairs sideways across the archway into her small kitchen, she made sure there was plenty of water and reluctantly left for work.

  She drove to the clinic, pulling in just before nine. Marjorie and the doctor had not yet arrived, so Faith opened up and prepared the exam rooms for today’s patients. She decided not to say anything about Tate’s medicines, but knew to double-check on all future patients.

  The morning seemed to drag by. She wondered how the dog was doing. Wondered if Tate had gone to sleep, as he’d wanted. Once or twice she thought she saw Marjorie glaring at her, but she ignored the woman.

  She mainly wanted to get home to make sure the dog hadn’t totally destroyed her apartment. To make sure the puppies were still alive.

  Finally, the last patient left. Faith quickly cleaned the exam rooms while Marjorie straightened the waiting room. Dr. Mallory had already left to see patients at the hospital in Portland. When Marjorie was ready to leave, she called out to Faith to lock up. Faith didn’t mind a moment to herself. She was sure Marjorie was out to cause trouble and didn’t know how to counteract it. She wanted to turn the other cheek, as the Lord had admonished. But she also wanted it to stop! Normally, she got along with everyone she worked with.

  Faith went to the drugstore when she left the clinic, and explained about the prescription. The doctor had already called to let the pharmacist know Faith would pick up Tate’s prescriptions, so both bottles were waiting for her. She swung by her apartment before going to Tate’s. The dog was licking her puppies when Faith rushed in.

  “Oh, they’re going to be gorgeous,” she said, her heart melting at the sight of the baby dogs. The mother looked better now that she was dry.

  “I still need to get to the store. Are you okay?” She checked the water bowl and refilled it. “I’ll be back soon as I can.”

  Dashing out again, she drove to Tate’s. She knocked gently on the door, not wanting to awaken him if he was still sleeping. But he opened the door a moment later. He’d obviously slept a few hours, for he looked amazingly healthy, except for the bandage on his forehead. He’d also changed clothes—now he was we
aring a flannel shirt over jeans. Perfect for the cooler day. Even summers in Maine could get downright cold.

  “I brought you the medicine,” she said, holding out the bag.

  “How’s the dog?” he asked, his fingers brushing hers as he took the bag from her.

  Faith was startled by the tingling awareness that spiked. She swallowed. She was around patients all the time, touching them, when needed, for assistance. She’d never felt like this before.

  She smiled, confused, and stepped back. “She’s doing well. I’m going now to get some dog food.”

  “And Animal Control?”

  “Well, actually, I’ve been thinking about that all morning. I’m sure she’s from around here, so it makes more sense to see if her owner comes by rather than have her all the way over in Monkesville.” She shrugged carelessly. “I thought I’d keep them a few days, put up posters or something. Maybe she lives near my place and didn’t expect the puppies to be born so soon.”

  He leaned against the doorjamb, studying her. “Or they’re so adorable you can’t let them go.”

  Faith laughed. “Okay, so maybe that played a teensy part in the decision. She’s really a pretty dog and her puppies are precious.”

  “Give me a minute and I’ll go with you.”

  “Oh. You don’t have to do that. Shouldn’t you rest some more?”

  “I slept for almost five hours. Took the last of the pain medicine you brought earlier, and I’m feeling almost 100 percent again. Let me get some shoes on.”

  Faith stepped inside and waited in the living room, going again to study the pictures of Tate’s wife. She was so grateful for her own life. How sad that this woman hadn’t lived longer.

  “Ready?” he asked a moment later from the archway.

  She turned and nodded. Her small car was perfectly adequate for her. But once Tate climbed into the passenger seat, it seemed to shrink. She felt self-conscious driving to the store, aware of his every move. Of his watching her.

  Once inside the grocery store, Tate was greeted by half a dozen people as they went straight to the pet section. He must know everyone in town. It was a bit odd to be stopped so many times to reply to questions of concern. Faith had lived in Portland her entire life and didn’t think she knew as many people as they’d run into just at the Rocky Point grocery store.

  Tate seemed to know just what to buy, from dog food to bowls to a leash and collar. By the time they were checking out, Faith herself was getting hungry. Should she invite him for lunch? He wanted to see the dog. Maybe he’d recognize the owner and reunite them today.

  “Want to pick up something from Marcie’s before we head back to your place?” Tate asked, as if reading her mind.

  “Does the café do takeout?”

  “If we call ahead. We use it a lot when we’re on patrol.”

  Tate had the number in his phone and took care of ordering two shrimp po’boys.

  When they reached the apartment later, he brought in the pet supplies, while Faith carried their lunch. The dog barked when they stepped into the apartment, but she didn’t leave the kitchen.

  “I’m back,” Faith called as she went straight into the kitchen, stepping over the makeshift barricade. Tate followed, putting the dog food on the counter.

  “Hey, girl. How are you?” He walked slowly toward the new mama dog and stooped down near her. Once she sniffed his hand, he reached out to scratch behind her ears. “Has she been out since you brought her inside?” he asked, looking up at Faith.

  “No. I guess she needs to,” Faith said, glancing at the scattered newspaper. Still dry. “Do you think she’ll run away?”

  “Not if her pups’re here. They’re cute. I believe she’s a golden retriever. Maybe a mix. Nice dogs as a rule.”

  “So someone must own her and be missing her. Maybe they’ll walk by when we’re out and claim her,” Faith said. She had mixed feelings about that. Naturally, she wanted the dog reunited with her owners. But even though the mama dog had only been with Faith for a few hours, Faith would miss her when she was gone.

  “I checked in with the station to see if anyone called in about a lost dog after I talked to you earlier. No one has. The dispatcher knows to let me know if someone does,” Tate said, standing.

  “Well, we’ll see what happens.” She moved the chairs and went to put the new pink collar on the dog. Once it was on, she snapped on the leash and called the dog to go with her. She came right away and was out like a shot when Faith opened the door, pulling the leash right from her hand. Following more slowly, Faith walked down the stairs to the back and watched as the dog relieved herself. She got close enough to step on the leash, and then took it firmly in hand. The dog pranced around a moment and then ran back toward the steps, looked over her shoulder at Faith and barked twice as she practically dragged Faith to the stairs.

  “Okay, okay. That was fast, but I see you need to get back to those babies. I brought you some food,” Faith said, running up the steps.

  The day had turned surreal a short time later, Faith thought, as she and Tate ate lunch together at her small dining table, where they were able to see the dog and puppies in the kitchen. The last time she’d had anyone over to share a meal had been in Portland just before she moved to Rocky Point. And that had been her friend Helen. Allen had been the last man—gone now two years. Yet it felt natural to have Tate here, discussing the dog and the possibilities for finding her owners.

  “I thought I’d take a few pictures of her and post them around town,” she said as she slowly ate the delicious po’boy. “If she were my dog, I’d be frantic by now.”

  “Good idea. If no one replies in a couple of days, we’ll expand the area. But I doubt she’d have come far. We can also take her to the vet’s and he can scan for a microchip. We might find the owner that way,” Tate suggested.

  She nodded. “Do you think the owner would be happy enough to have her back to let me have one of the puppies?” she asked.

  “You looking to get a dog?”

  “I thought about adopting a cat. Joe said a pet would be okay…” She smiled over at the small family. “But I like this dog. I think a dog would provide great companionship.”

  “A lot of work, too. I had a couple of dogs growing up.”

  “I never had a pet. So I’m overdue,” she said. She looked at Tate. “Any advice about taking care of her until her owners claim her?”

  “Watch in case she’s not housebroken. Though she seems to be. Feed her according to the directions on the bag. Otherwise, I’d keep the kitchen blocked off so the puppies don’t go all over your apartment.” He grinned slowly. “Not that they’re moving much right now. Probably the owner will claim all of them before long.”

  Faith nodded, already missing the dogs. She’d never been around puppies before. Who knew how adorable they were? Still, someone was probably frantically looking for her beloved pet. She’d better get going on the posters.

  “Why don’t you take some digital pictures and then we’ll draft the posters on the station’s computer.”

  “Can you do that? I mean, for a dog?”

  He nodded. “Why not, this is a missing person—so to speak.”

  “Are you feeling up to that? You took a nasty crack on the head.”

  “I’m better than yesterday. I’ll take off tomorrow and be back at work on Monday,” he said.

  “If your headache goes away.” She didn’t want him to push himself before he was healed.

  “Or at least becomes manageable,” he said.

  She knew better than to argue with a man who was bent on discounting his injury. But she vowed to keep a close eye on him while they were together.

  After the dog had eaten, Faith let her out again. Then she took several pictures of the dog, who
seemed more than willing to look this way or that as Faith tried to capture the best image. Faith and Tate headed for the sheriff’s office in Faith’s car.

  “I could drive,” he said as they left her apartment.

  “I’d rather,” she said, looking up at him. “I’m not seeing double.”

  “Neither am I today,” he said.

  “Still, I think you need to give it another day before driving. Just to make sure,” she insisted as she headed the short distance to city hall.

  The sheriff’s office was smaller than Faith expected. A central room that housed several desks, computers and printers. A counter separated it from the entrance. There were a handful of chairs in the small lobby. Behind the main room was a hallway, with two offices, a break room and a holding cell.

  Tate went straight to one of the offices. “Have a seat. We’ll make it quick and go put them up.”

  “If Mama Dog didn’t come far, she must live near me. But I don’t remember seeing her since I’ve been here,” Faith said. “And I take a lot of walks. Exploring.” Building back her stamina. But she didn’t have to tell him that.

  “She might normally be kept in a backyard from which she somehow escaped,” he said as he turned on his computer. In no time copies of the poster were spewing from the color printer. When they had a dozen, he gathered them and stood, grabbing a stapler from his desk.

  “Let’s go.”

  The rain had stopped, though the air remained damp and cool. Soon they were walking around the blocks near the water, putting the posters on trees and power poles.

  Faith saw a couple reading one just after they put it up. She waited a minute, holding her breath, but they turned and continued on their way. Not the dog’s owners.

  Tate watched Faith a moment as she waited to see if the couple behind them owned the dog. He saw the relief on her face when they walked on. He hoped she wouldn’t get too attached to the dog and be disappointed when the owners showed up.