She blinked, clearly startled. “Is that…”
“Oh, this? Oh. Yeah. You probably need to add him to your list of guests. This is Lucky Lou.”
At his newly christened name, the dog peeked all the way out. With those big corgi ears, he looked like a cross between a lemur and some kind of alien creature.
“Oh, he’s adorable.”
He blinked. Okay, she wasn’t yelling. That was a good sign. “Yeah, pretty cute, I guess. Not exactly the most manly of dogs, but he’s okay.”
“Is this the dog that was hit by a car the other day?”
“This is the one.”
To his great surprise, she walked around the side of the lobby desk for a closer look. He obliged by unwrapping the blanket, revealing the cast on the dog’s leg.
“Oh, he’s darling,” she exclaimed and reached out to run a hand down the animal’s fur. The dog responded just as Taft wanted to do, by nudging his head closer to her hand. So far, so good. Maybe she wasn’t going to kill him after all.
“How is he?” she asked.
“Lucky. Hence the name.”
She laughed softly and the sound curled through him, sweet and appealing.
He cleared his throat. “Somehow he came through with just a broken leg. It should heal up in a few weeks, but he needs to be watched closely during that time to make sure he doesn’t reinjure himself. He especially can’t be around the other dogs at the ranch because they tend to play rough, which poses a bit of a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“It’s a crazy-busy time at the ranch, with spring planting and all, not to mention Trace’s wedding. Caidy was looking for somebody who could keep an eye on Lou here and I sort of got roped into it.”
He didn’t add that his sister basically blackmailed him to take on the responsibility, claiming he owed her this because she told him about the planned horseback ride with Laura and her children in the first place.
“I guess I should ask whether you mind if I keep him here at the inn with me. Most of the time he’ll be at the station house or in my truck with me, but he’ll be here on the nights I’m not working there.”
She cupped the dog’s face in her hand. “I would have to be the most hardhearted woman on the planet to say no to that face.”
Okay, now he owed his sister big-time. Who knew the way to reach Laura’s heart was through an injured mongrel?
As if she suddenly realized how close she was standing, Laura eased away from him. The dog whimpered a little and Taft wanted to join him.
“Our policy does allow for pets,” she said. “Usually we charge a hundred-dollar deposit in case of damages, but given the circumstances I’m sure we can waive that.”
“I’ll try to keep him quiet. He seems to be a well-behaved little guy. Makes me wonder what happened. How he ended up homeless.”
“Maybe he ran away.”
“Yeah, that’s the logical explanation, but he didn’t have a collar. Caidy checked with animal control and the vet and everybody else she could think of. Nobody in the county has reported a lost pet matching his description. I wonder if somebody just dropped him off and abandoned him.”
“What’s going to happen to him? Eventually, I mean, after he heals?” she asked.
“Caidy has a reputation for taking in strays. Her plan is to nurse him back to health and then look for a good placement somewhere for the little guy. Meantime I’m just the dogsitter for a few days.”
“And you can take him to the fire station with you?”
“I’m the fire chief, remember? Who’s going to tell me I can’t?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the mayor or the city council.”
He laughed, trying to imagine any of the local politicians making a big deal about a dog at the fire station. “This is Pine Gulch,” he answered. “We’re pretty casual about things like that. Anyway, it’s only for a few days. We can always call him our unofficial mascot. Lucky Lou, Fire Dog.”
The dog’s big ears perked forward, as if eager to take on the new challenge.
“You like the sound of that, do you?” He scratched the dog’s ears and earned an adoring look from his new best friend. He looked up to find Laura watching him, an arrested look in her eyes. When his gaze collided with hers, she turned a delicate shade of pink and looked away from him.
“Like I said, he doesn’t seem to be much of a barker. I’ll try to keep him quiet when I’m here so he doesn’t disturb the other guests.”
“Thank you, I appreciate that. Not that you have that many guests around you to be disturbed.”
The discouragement in her voice made him want to hold her close, dog and all, and take away her worries. “Things will pick up come summer,” he assured her.
“I hope so. The inn hasn’t had the greatest reputation over the years. My mom did her best after my dad died, but I’m afraid things went downhill.”
He knew this to be an unfortunate fact. Most people in town steered their relatives and friends to other establishments. A couple new B and Bs had sprung up recently and there were some nice guest ranches in the canyon. None had the advantage of Cold Creek Inn’s location and beautiful setting, though, and with Laura spearheading changes, he didn’t doubt the inn would be back on track in no time.
“Give it time. You’ve been home only a few weeks.”
She sighed. “I know. But when I think about all the work it’s going to require to counteract that reputation, I just want to cry.”
He could certainly relate to that. He knew just how tough it was to convince people to look beyond the past. “If anybody can do it, you’re perfect for the job. A degree in hotel management, all those years of international hotel experience. This will be a snap for you.”
She gave him a rueful smile—but a smile nonetheless. He drew in a breath, wishing he could set the dog down and pull Laura into his arms instead. He might have considered it, but Lucky made a sound as if warning him against that particular course of action.
“What you need is a dog,” he said suddenly. “A lucky dog.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she exclaimed on a laugh. “Forget that right now, Taft Bowman. I’m too smart to let myself be swayed by an adorable face.”
“Mine or the dog’s?” he teased.
This smile looked definitely genuine, but she shook her head. “Go to bed, Taft. And take your lucky dog with you.”
I’d rather take you.
The words simmered between them, unsaid, but she blushed anyway, as if she sensed the thoughts in his head.
“Good night, then,” he said with great reluctance. “I really don’t mind paying the security deposit for the dog.”
“No need. Consider it my way of helping in Lucky Lou’s recovery.”
“Thanks, then. I’ll try to be sure you don’t regret it.”
He hitched the dog into a better position, picked up the key card from the counter and headed down
the hall.
He had enough regrets for the both of them.
* * *
Her children were in love.
“He’s the cutest dog ever,” Alex gushed, his dark eyes bright with excitement. “And so nice, too. I petted him and petted him and all he did was lick me.”
“Lou tickles,” Maya added, her face earnest and sweet.
“Lucky Lou. That’s his name, Chief Bowman says.”
Alex was perched on the counter, pulling items out of grocery bags, theoretically “helping” her put them away, but mostly just jumbling them up on the counter. Still, she wasn’t about to discourage any act of spontaneous help from her children.
“And where was your grandmother while Chief Bowman was letting you play with his dog?” she asked.
The plan had been for Jan to watch the children while Laura went to the grocery store for her mother, but it sounded very much as if they had been wandering through the hotel, bothering Taft.
“She had a phone call in the office. We
were coloring at a new table in the lobby, just like Grandma told us to. I promise we didn’t go anywhere like upstairs. I was coloring a picture of a horse and Maya was just scribbling. She’s not a very good colorer.”
“She’s working on it, aren’t you, mi hija?”
Maya giggled at the favorite words and the everyday tension and stress of grocery shopping and counting coupons and loading bags into her car in a rainstorm seemed to fade away.
She was working hard to give her family a good life here. Maybe it wasn’t perfect yet, but it was definitely better than what they would have known if she’d stayed in Madrid.
“So you were coloring and…” she prompted.
“And Chief Bowman came in and he was carrying the dog. He has great big ears. They’re like donkey ears!”
She had to smile at the exaggeration. The dog had big ears but nothing that unusual for a corgi.
“Really?” she teased. “I’ve never noticed that about Chief Bowman.”
Alex giggled. “The dog, silly! The dog has big ears. His name is Lucky Lou and he has a broken leg. Did you know that? He got hit by a car! That’s sad, huh?”
“Terribly sad,” she agreed.
“Chief Bowman says he has to wear a cast for another week and he can’t run around with the other dogs.”
“That’s too bad.”
“I know, huh? He can only sit quiet and be petted, but Chief Bowman says I can do it anytime I want to.”
“That’s very kind of Chief Bowman,” she answered, quite sure her six-year-old probably wouldn’t notice the caustic edge to her tone. She knew just what Taft was after—a sucker who would take the dog off his hands.
“He’s super nice.”
“The dog?”
“No! Chief Bowman! He says I can come visit Lou whenever I want, and when his cast comes off, I can maybe take him for a walk.”
The decided note of hero-worship she heard in Alex’s voice greatly worried her. Her son was desperate for a strong male influence in his life. She understood that.
But Taft wasn’t going to be staying at the inn forever. Eventually his house would be finished and he would move out, taking his little dog with him.
The thought depressed her, although she knew darn well it was dangerous to allow herself to care what Taft Bowman did.
“And guess what else?” Alex pressed, his tone suddenly cagey.
“What?”
“Chief Bowman said Lucky Lou is going to need a new home once he recovers!”
Oh, here we go, she thought. It didn’t take a child-behavior specialist to guess what would be coming next.
Sure enough, Alex tilted his head and gave her a deceptively casual look. “So I was thinking maybe we could give him a new home.”
You’re always thinking, aren’t you, kiddo? she thought with resignation, gearing up for the arguments she could sense would follow that declaration.
“He’s a super-nice dog and he didn’t bark one single time. I know I could take care of him, Mama. I just know it.”
“I know it,” Maya said in stout agreement, although Laura had doubts as to whether her daughter had even been paying attention to the conversation as she played with a stack of plastic cups at the kitchen table.
How was she going to get out of this one without seeming like the meanest mom in the world? The dog was adorable. She couldn’t deny it. With those big ears and the beagle coloring and his inquisitive little face, he was a definite charmer.
Maybe in a few months she would be in a better position to get a pet, but she was barely holding on here, working eighteen-hour days around caring for her children so she could help her mother rehabilitate this crumbling old inn and bring it back to the graceful accommodations it once had been.
She had to make the inn a success no matter how hard she had to work to do it. She couldn’t stomach another failure. First her engagement to Taft, then her marriage. Seeing the inn deteriorate further would be the last straw.
A dog, especially a somewhat fragile one, would complicate everything.
“I would really, really love a dog,” Alex persisted.
“Dog. Me, too,” Maya said.
Drat Taft for placing her in this position. He had to have known her children would come back brimming over with enthusiasm for the dog, pressing her to add him to her family.
Movement outside the kitchen window caught her gaze and through the rain she saw Taft walking toward the little grassy area set aside for dogs. He was wearing a hooded raincoat and carrying an umbrella. At the dog-walking area, he set Lucky Lou down onto the grass and she saw the dog’s cast had been wrapped in plastic.
She watched as Taft held the umbrella over the little corgi-beagle mix while the dog took care of business.
The sight of this big, tough firefighter showing such care for a little injured dog touched something deep inside her. Tenderness rippled and swelled inside her and she drew in a sharp breath. She didn’t want to let him inside her heart again. She couldn’t do it.
This was Taft Bowman. He was a womanizer, just as Javier had been. The more the merrier. That was apparently his mantra when it came to women. She had been through this before and she refused to do it again.
From his vantage point on top of the counter, Alex had a clear view out the window. “See?” he said with a pleading look. “Isn’t he a great dog? Chief Bowman says he doesn’t even poop in the house or anything.”
She sighed and took her son’s small hand in hers, trying to soften the difficulty of her words. “Honey, I don’t know if this is the best time for us to get a dog. I’m sorry. I can’t tell you yes or no right now. I’m going to have to think hard about this before I can make any decision. Don’t get your hopes up, okay?”
Even as she said the words, she knew they were useless. By the adoration on his face as he looked out the rain-streaked window at the little dog, she could plainly tell Alex already had his heart set on making a home for Lou.
She supposed things could be worse. The dog was apparently potty-trained, friendly and not likely to grow much bigger. It wasn’t as if he was an English sheepdog, the kind of pet who shed enough fur it could be knitted into a sweater.
But then, this was Taft Bowman’s specialty, convincing people to do things they otherwise wouldn’t even consider.
She was too smart to fall for it all over again. Or at least that’s what she told herself.
Chapter Nine
Nearly a week later, Laura spread the new duvet across the bed in the once-fire-damaged room, then stepped back to survey her work.
Not bad, if she did say so herself. She was especially proud of the new walls, which she had painted herself, glazing with a darker earth tone over the tan to create a textured, layered effect, almost like a Tuscan farmhouse.
Hiring someone else to paint would have saved a great deal of time and trouble, of course. The idea of all the rooms yet to paint daunted her, made her back ache just thinking about it. On the other hand, this renovation had been her idea to breathe life into the old hotel, and the budget was sparse, even with the in-kind labor Taft had done for them over the past few weeks.
It might take her a month to finish all the other rooms, but she would still save several thousand dollars that could be put into upgrading the amenities offered by the inn.
She intended to make each room at the inn charming and unique. This was a brilliant start. The room looked warm and inviting and she couldn’t wait to start renting it out. She smoothed a hand over the wood trim around the windows, noting the tightness of the joints and the fine grain that showed beautifully through the finish.
“Wow, it looks fantastic in here.”
She turned at the voice from the open doorway and found Taft leaning against the doorjamb. He looked tired, she thought, with a day’s growth of whiskers on his cheeks and new smudges under his eyes. Not tired, precisely. Weary and worn, as if he had stopped here because he couldn’t move another step down the hall toward his own room.
“Absolutely. I would stay here in a heartbeat.”
“You are staying here. Okay, not here precisely, in this particular room, but at the inn.”
“If this room is any indication, the rest of this place will be beautiful by the time you’re finished. People will be fighting over themselves to get a room.”
“I hope so,” she answered with a smile. This was what she wanted. The chance to make this historic property come to life.
“Do you ever sleep?” he asked.
“I could ask the same question. You look tired.”
“Yeah, it’s been a rough one.”
She found the weary darkness in his gaze disconcerting. Taft was teasing and fun, with a smile and a lighthearted comment for everyone. She rarely saw him serious and quiet. “What’s happened?”
He sank down onto the new sofa, messing up the throw pillows she had only just arranged. She didn’t mind. He looked like a man who needed somewhere comfortable to rest for a moment.
“Car accident on High Creek Road. Idiot tourist took one of those sharp turns up there too fast. The car went off the road and rolled about thirty feet down the slope.”
“Is he okay?”
“The driver just had scrapes and bruises and a broken arm.” He scratched at a spot at the knee of his jeans. “His ten-year-old kid wasn’t so lucky. We did CPR for about twenty minutes while we waited for the medevac helicopter and were able to bring him back. Last I heard, he survived the flight to the children’s hospital in Salt Lake City, but he’s in for a long, hard fight.”
Her heart ached for the child and for his parents. “Oh, no.”
“I hate incidents with kids involved.” His mouth was tight. “Makes me want to tell every parent I know to hug their children and not let go. You just never know what could happen on any given day. If I didn’t know Ridge would shoot me for it, I’d drive over to the ranch and wake up Destry right now, just so I could give her a big hug and tell her I love her.”
His love for his niece warmed her heart. He was a man with a huge capacity to love and he must have deep compassion if he could be so upset by the day’s events. Hadn’t he learned how to keep a safe distance between his emotions and the emergency calls he had to respond to as a firefighter and paramedic?
A Cold Creek Reunion Page 12