by Hall, Traci
She parked beneath the pine tree, glad to have the funds to finally fix the van. At this point, it barely started, and when it did, she wasn’t sure how safe it really was to drive. Grace didn’t feel right taking Violet around town, that was for sure.
Before leaving her house that morning, she’d called the mechanic and explained the growing problems. He’d told her to come in on Saturday and they’d get the van fixed up. Just in time to live in, she thought. The idea turned her stomach.
While she normally loved October, the fall season changing the oak and dogwood trees to vibrant orange and red colors, she couldn’t help but feel the mounting chill in the air. Maybe Eddie could fix the heater while he was at it. Just in case.
When she entered the Bark Camp main building, instead of the quiet lobby she’d gotten used to, Sawyer and his brothers had some sort of football game on the big TV and were lounging on the dark brown leather couches. The dogs, who’d been outside in the climate-controlled shelter, now tugged huge chunks of rope or chomped thick rubber balls like this was their living room. The big dogs matched the size of the men.
Romeo, Sawyer’s new retriever, looked to him before padding over to Grace in greeting, his tail wagging in welcome.
“Mornin’,” Bobby said, his body stretched out on one couch. He wore a chocolate brown polo with Bark Camp embroidered on it.
“Hey, Grace,” Tomas called. His work shirt was navy blue. He’d commandeered the other sofa.
Sawyer, in brick red, unfolded himself from an extra cozy armchair, one of the new dogs at his feet. She didn’t see Kita, Diamond, or Sky. Bert had a rawhide that he’d taken to Diamond’s dog bed behind her desk.
“Good morning, Grace,” Sawyer said. His deep voice tempted her to sink her head against his chest, safe from the world.
She stiffened her spine and lifted her lunch box with the purple glitter. “Last Monday,” she said in response to his greeting. A shield against his charm. This final week was going to be harder than she thought. She wanted to burst into tears, tell him everything, have him save her, but life didn’t work that way. Things weren’t that easy.
“I guess you’re counting down the hours to get back to your routine,” said Sawyer.
“I don’t really have a routine, which is what I like about my life.” She knew that would bug him to no end. She would keep reminding herself of their differences.
“Structure isn’t the enemy, Grace. You need it to build a house. Without it, the house falls down.” He pointed to the shelter out back.
She retreated to the kitchen, mumbling under her breath, “That’s if you have a house.”
He followed her in. “What did you say?”
“Good analogy,” she said. “I’ll think about it. But rules and structure can be very unyielding. I prefer the strength of the willow tree, which bends.” She put her lunch in the fridge and plugged in her electric kettle.
He stared at her very closely, as if trying to see inside her soul. She scowled. “What are you doing?”
Sawyer held his hands up and stepped back. “Just getting coffee.”
“Is lounging on the couch part of the dog’s training?” She didn’t mean to poke at him, but he made her all hot and bothered. His expensive spice cologne, his smooth-shaven jaw, the way his lashes curled around his deep brown eyes. The mouth that knew how to kiss had awoken longing within her.
Sawyer chuckled and chose Sumatra for the Keurig. “Yeah, actually. They have to be socialized for a home.”
“Your dog shelter has more luxuries than the commune where I grew up. Washer and dryer, hot running water. Air conditioning and heat.” She reached into the cupboard for her purple mug and set it on the counter. “It’s the Ritz, for dogs.” Far better than she would have it very soon.
“Which reminds me—I’ve got a security company coming in this afternoon to install a camera system, just so you know to expect them.”
“Why?”
“I put a lot of time and money into these animals. I want to protect my investment—I’ll be able to watch them from an app on my phone, wherever I’m at.”
“Nobody would steal them.”
“Grace, you’re a fabulous human being, but sometimes you’re naive.”
Normally, she would’ve been put off by his comment, but after her recent run-in with Griffin, she stayed quiet.
“When I lived in L.A., I had to fight off gangs of punks who wanted my dogs.”
“Well, this isn’t L.A.,” she said. “It’s Kingston.” Podunk.
He shrugged. “They snuck in at night when I was sleeping. I had three dogs at that time, and we all slept in the same section of the storage container. No air conditioning in L.A. It was hot as hell.”
Grace watched his face, spellbound by this vulnerable glimpse of Sawyer.
“Kita alerted me—she was a fighting dog. I’d rehabilitated her and Diamond to see if I could retrain them to be family dogs. A dog will do anything for its human, and these”—he curled his fist and exhaled—“jerks abused the pups mentally and physically. And when the dogs couldn’t fight anymore, too injured or weak, they shot them and tossed their bodies into dumpsters.”
Tears blurred her vision, and she reached for his waist, the side where he’d been scarred, as if to assure herself that Sawyer was all right.
“I bought the dogs with cash, but that wasn’t enough for those guys. They wanted my money and their dogs back. Diamond got between me and the man who stabbed me. I saw red and fought back, but I’d lost a lot of blood. Diamond and Kita stood guard over me, but they stole Zeus, the third dog I’d tried to save. I never saw him again.”
Grace wiped at her eyes.
“I installed security, hired my brothers as guards, and we made sure the bastards could never sneak in again. I patrolled my property with the dogs. Their model behavior showed the neighborhood that pit bulls didn’t have to be evil or made to fight. I was trying to prove a point, I guess.”
“No wonder you care so much.”
“I’d forgotten.” His body slowly relaxed as Grace lightly caressed his side. “I started putting my career first, even before the dogs or the people they were helping. I should never have forgotten.” He flashed a sad smile at Grace. “That man wouldn’t have given Daniella the time of day.”
Her lips curved upward, knowing he spoke the truth. She thought of her home. “I guess the things that are the hardest to look at are the things we really need to pay attention to. Grandma Dahlia said second chances are an opportunity to do it better, like you have.”
As natural as breathing, she leaned forward and, up on her toes, she gently, yet firmly, kissed Sawyer’s mouth. She savored the texture and feel of his lips against hers. Hard and soft—like they were. Opposites, yes, but in a very wonderful way. Her eyes fluttered half closed as she was swept away in emotion.
The office phone rang, and Grace jumped back as if burned, her fingers to her mouth, her pulse racing. “I’ll get that,” she said and ran from the break room.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Trapped by his memories and touched by Grace’s compassion, Sawyer couldn’t move from his position by the kitchen counter.
He’d never shared what had happened with a woman before, not even his mom. His brothers knew because they’d banded together against the thugs, except Luca, who had been too young.
He recalled the way Grace’s upturned nose had scrunched when she’d stood up to him that morning on the beach, the first time they’d met. The flash of anger in her blue eyes, and the stubborn raise of her chin when he’d mistakenly accused her of being a stalker.
Her kiss just now, the perfect mix of sweet and spice, had been meant to ease his pain. Sawyer had to find a way to keep Grace in his life.
He grabbed his coffee and rose from his chair in the kitchen. He’d never been so conflicted about so many things al
l at the same time.
He couldn’t let his newfound feelings for Grace change the direction of Bark Camp, his shot at television, the veterans, and the beneficial publicity hiring them would bring to his career.
What would Grace think of that? He had the awful idea she wouldn’t get it.
He sauntered past her.
She didn’t even peek up as she talked on the phone and typed into the computer. “Of course, Ms. Lowery. I’ll reschedule your appointment for today.”
It wasn’t like he had any other clients on the schedule, except for Cyrus. What a rude awakening to realize he’d been too long out of the public eye, at least in a positive way. Daniella’s campaign to hurt him had succeeded.
No fame. No fortune. No network show. What silver lining would Grace’s Grandma Dahlia find in that?
He waved for his brothers to stay on the couch and socialize with the dogs then ducked into his office, where he set his coffee cup on a coaster.
Grace, as usual, was front and center on his mind.
Jaden, his publicist, called on his direct office line.
“I just got off the horn with one of the peons over at the network,” he stated. “They were lukewarm until I mentioned what you’re doing over there in the woods. With the dogs, trained in a year when it should take two—working in tandem with the vets and the Sawyer Rivera Training System.”
His chest tightened. “What did they say?”
“No commitment, but they are interested in the soldier angle. We need to get some pictures.”
“Talk to Kasam. I sent him a bunch. I need some publicity magic here. My phones aren’t ringing. I have to advertise or I’m sunk.”
“If we could get the network locked down first, that would be better,” Jaden said. “Nothing like a woman scorned.”
A tough way to learn a lesson but one he wouldn’t forget. Grace was nothing like that. Why did things always come back around to Grace?
“We need soldiers with hammers, you right there, too, sweaty and dirty. Dogs in the mud. Give me grit, and I’ll get you signed.”
Sawyer thought about the pictures he’d seen Grace taking and wondered if she was still sending them to his marketer. “Check with Kasam, then get back to me with specific photos we need.”
He would have Grace handle the pictures; she was very gifted at capturing the right emotion and matching it to the scene.
“Will do,” said Jaden.
Sawyer sighed and hung up, sipping his coffee.
His brother Tomas poked his head into the office. “Got a minute?” He smoothed the scruff on his chin.
“Sure.” Sawyer gestured to the black leather seat across from the desk. “That was Jaden on the phone. Network seems interested in the veteran angle.”
“Oh.” Tomas’s brow rose as he sat down. “Not just the dogs? Or you?”
Sawyer clenched his jaw and shrugged. How bad did he need the show?
“I thought you wanted to prove that the dog-training system worked?” Tomas searched his face, knowing when he told a whopper as only a brother could.
“It will. It has to.” Sawyer thrummed his fingers along his desktop. He’d moved to Kingston for change, but was this too far from his personal vision?
“You have a gift with dogs, bro, and after watching you with those ex-soldier dudes, I think a reality show could be a hit.”
“Don’t get all sappy, Tomas,” Sawyer said, embarrassed by the rare familial praise.
“It’s the truth. Can you deal with not being the star? Sharing the spotlight?”
He clapped a hand to his chest. “Ouch.”
“You earned the fame. You put in the time and built the Sawyer Rivera Training System. I believe you can do it in a year rather than two. If you want to keep it with you as the headliner, there’s nothing wrong with that. I’ll support you either way.”
Sawyer realized that nobody could keep him humble like his family. “You and Bobby helped.”
“At the beginning. You did the heavy lifting.” Tomas paused. “So, where can I jump in?”
Sawyer got up and examined the architect’s plans on the wall, next to the calendar.
“Jaden wants pictures of us at work, so I think I’ll get started on that second building in hopes of filling it,” he said. “The manpower won’t be wasted, anyway.”
Tomas joined him at the plans, hands behind his back. “It’s remarkable what you’ve accomplished already.”
“I couldn’t have done it without Bill and his guys. You’ve only met three of them.” Jimmy, Colton, and Rudy had worked this week. “But Lincoln and Donny will be here today, too.”
“You like ’em?”
“For the most part. Jimmy used to run construction, and he’s a natural, and Colton is a quick learner—but those two like to party a little too much on their downtime, and I hesitate to trust them completely. Rudy is slow but steady, and I like that.”
“That’s the guy missing the fingers?”
“Yeah. Doesn’t stop him, though.”
“You always were about saving the underdog.”
Sawyer turned to his brother. “Yeah?” He cleared his burning throat as he thought of everything at stake. “This time they’re saving me.” The dogs, and the veterans.
“You think the publicity will be that good?”
Sawyer scrutinized the plans. He remembered dreaming up Bark Camp, coming up with the “returning to grassroots” idea. “That’s not what I mean.”
Tomas squeezed his shoulder. “You’re going to create something great again. That’s what Sawyer Rivera does.”
Sawyer chuckled. “I hope so. I need a win, Tomas. Before it’s too late.”
“You might be working hard, but you don’t lose.”
“The dogs matter. The guys matter. The training system needs to soar.”
Tomas noticed the calendar and tapped the circle around the Grace’s name. “I see the way you’re looking at her. She matters, too.”
“I’m not—” He stopped talking and bowed his shoulders. “She’s my employee.”
“We don’t date the help.” Tomas grinned. “Friday’s her last day.”
“Yeah.”
“Then you’ll make a move?”
Sawyer’s heart thumped. Was Grace the one? He was saved from answering Tomas’s question by his office phone ringing.
It wasn’t part of the plan, but when he thought of spending his life with a partner, Grace was first in his mind.
He shoved his brother out to the lobby and answered the phone. “Bark Camp. This is Sawyer.”
“That Grace is a genius behind the camera,” Jaden said in his ear. “Have her get gritty pics of the men and dogs and send them to Kasam. Genius! We might be saved.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Grace’s parents called her on Tuesday, while she was eating her lunch beneath the shade of an oak tree. Egg salad with a touch of homemade pickle juice on one of Lottie’s wheat rolls—delicious.
They had a laugh about Dad’s turn to run the dairy barn at the commune and his desperate attempt to switch chores with Mom before steering the topic back to Grace. It had been months since they’d last spoken, and a lot had changed. For the worse.
“So, why did you call, Grace?” her dad asked.
The egg salad suddenly lost its wonderful taste. She dabbed her lips with a cloth napkin. “You know when Grandma passed, and she left the house to me?”
“As she should have,” her dad said. “She could see you shared her love for the water.”
“Well.” Grace swallowed around the hard lump of shame in her throat. It was like she’d been given the most precious jewel and lost it.
Her mother’s voice came back on the line. “What is it? Grace, you can tell us. Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she managed.
“I…” Her voice sounded deeper than normal. “There are taxes owed on the property.”
“Damn the man,” her dad shouted.
Grace stayed quiet, desperate to collect herself.
“How much?” her mom asked.
“Thirty thousand dollars.” Her stomach clenched.
“Oh dear.”
A tear trickled down Grace’s cheek. “I have some.”
“You do?” asked her mother.
“Not a lot,” she admitted. “Most of the money will be going toward repairing the van.”
“Oh, honey.”
Grace fought back a torrent of tears.
“Have you tried to work with the bank?” Her dad’s question held doubt that it would happen in a positive light.
“I was, I thought, but now Mr. Haviland is calling the payment due or he’ll start foreclosure proceedings.”
“Damn the man is right!” her mom shouted.
“I have until Monday.”
“Six days?” Her dad’s voice hitched.
She swiped back a tear. “Yeah.”
“There has to be a way,” her mom said. “Have you asked the bank for a loan?”
“Yes, Mom.” She stared down at the blurry grass. “They won’t give me one, because I don’t have a steady job.”
“You take care of yourself just fine,” her dad said defensively.
“I think so, too,” Grace said. “But the bank wants cash.”
“It’s why we live here,” her mom said.
“It’s a cold and heartless world. Come and stay with us!” her dad invited.
“Uh, no.” Grace glared at the phone, tension crossing her shoulders. Living without electricity and completely off the grid didn’t appeal to her. “Thanks, though.”
“You’re smart,” her mom said. “Let’s put our heads together and find a solution.”
She didn’t feel so smart. “Mr. Haviland suggested I sell the property to pay the balance.”
“Don’t do it,” her dad shouted.
“It’s a trick, Grace,” her mother said. “The property is worth a lot more money than thirty thousand. What does he really want?”