Yesterday's Promise

by Cheryl St. John

  “He doesn’t care what’s best for me or he wouldn’t make things so difficult. You’d think I’d committed high treason by not using the degrees he pressured me to earn.”

  “Natalie, you have so much potential—”

  “Stop with the potential, Camille.” Those words lit her fuse every time. “Does it really matter what I do with my life if what I’m doing makes me happy?” Goliath, as though sensing her rising anxiety level, stood against her leg and pawed at her pant leg. She reached down to pet him. “Stop campaigning for Dad and think about what’s best for me. I’m not hurting anyone. I can’t be perfect, and that’s what he wants. I’m not you.”

  “I’m not perfect, either.”

  Her sister held an ambitious position at a hospital and half a dozen letters followed her name. She was married to an advertising executive and together they’d produced one boy and one girl who’d been born in strategic years between college and career advancements. All that seemed like a pretty perfect life to Natalie. She stood. “I said I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Okay. Can I do anything to help with the situation?”

  Natalie wouldn’t ask her sister for money if the sky was falling and a nickel would hold it up. “Everything’s great. Talk to you later.”

  Hyper now, Goliath skittered away from her feet with a clatter of nails against the wood floor as she slid her phone into her pocket and moved to the stove. In anticipation of supper, Abby and Daughtry had taken positions nearby and watched her. She got each of them a dog biscuit from a vintage apple cookie jar. She used nearly all items she’d found in the attic.

  Natalie opened the freezer door and checked options. Closing it, she made herself a salad and a bowl of soup and ate in the roomy country kitchen. She loved this old house. The hundred-year-old structure had been restored at some point in the past twenty years while the farmland had been leased.

  Since she’d become owner and resident, the fields had lain fallow. She’d recently leased them, and the income would help her improve the facility.

  Her father had the means to invest in the center, but he’d withheld his support from the get go. She’d been a gigantic disappointment by not fitting into his narrow parameter of the perfect daughter. She’d earned scholarships, applied for the best schools and had been accepted. She’d chosen one he approved of, and while in California she’d met a man he’d found suitable.

  Jack Morris had been livid when after graduation she’d joined a rescue league and wasted her degree. He’d flown to Sacramento to straighten her out. Natalie wasn’t interested in the careers he’d outlined for her. Her father had gone to Tyler to enlist his help.

  She never knew precisely what had taken place, but Tyler Jordan had asked her to marry him a week later. She was in love with him and she’d foolishly believed he loved her. Later, she came to suspect that her father had generously rewarded him for influencing her.

  Her work had immediately been a point of contention between her and Tyler, and finally she’d conceded. Her degree was in business law but she had no desire to advance, so she’d worked in legal aid for a couple of years.

  She cleared the table and washed her few dishes.

  They’d been married three years when Tyler had broken the news about his change of plans over breakfast one morning. “I’m taking a position in China,” he’d told her. I leave in two weeks.”

  She’d looked at him, dumbfounded. “China? We haven’t even discussed this. I don’t know that I want to live in China.”

  That’s when he’d dropped the bomb. “I didn’t ask you, Natalie. We need the separation, and I’ve made the decision. It’s done. I’m moving.”

  She’d been humiliated and angry, not broken-hearted, but that self-realization had come later. She felt rejected and relieved. Guilty for being relieved. Without Tyler pressuring her, she quit the job she hated and took one as a groomer’s assistant, while she took evening classes to become a professional dog trainer.

  Six months later, Tyler had been killed. She’d cried for him. For everything they’d lost and for their failures. She’d never lived up to anyone’s expectations. From that moment on, she’d chosen to keep her own expectations manageable. She’d opted to do exactly as she wanted.

  She had no regrets.

  Tyler had never filed for divorce, so she had inherited his life insurance benefits as well as his property. He’d mentioned the farm where his grandparents once lived, but she hadn’t known he owned it. A meeting with his attorneys had enlightened her, and she’d absorbed the information and all the possibilities that came with it.

  Land. A decent chunk of change. Enough to start her own facility and allow a dream to blossom and grow into a reality.

  Her father had fought her decision tooth and nail.

  But she’d moved beyond trying to please him. She’d gone to college to please him. She’d married Tyler to please him. Now she was going to live her life for herself.

  And she’d been doing just that. Puppy Love was her lifeline. The place where she made a difference. She could be herself and take satisfaction in each day spent saving a dog and pairing the animals with loving owners. Non-dog lovers couldn’t understand. And she didn’t expect them to. She only expected them to leave her to her calling.

  Talking to Camille always made her reflective, and she hated getting sucked into that whole dynamic. What difference would it make if she didn’t go to their Easter dinner? She missed seeing her mother and her niece and nephew, but her mother had never stood up to her husband on Natalie’s behalf. Natalie had plenty of time to prepare herself for the fallout of declining.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” she announced.

  Her three furry friends perked up and scrambled for the back door. She laughed, grabbed a coat and led them outdoors to play. At least that the cagey coyote was one less worry, and she was pretty proud of herself for taking care of it.

  * *

  Early the following morning, Natalie grabbed her phone and drove into town to stock up on supplies. At the feed store, two workers loaded the back of her Scout with enough bags of dry dog food to lower the old truck on its axles. She’d phoned her high school helper, Duncan, and he would drive out that afternoon after classes to unload.

  By the time she looked at her phone and noted it was nearly ten o’clock, Avery Sawyer still hadn’t called. He was a businessman with others things to do too. She hoped he wouldn’t forget.

  From the road, she turned onto her gravel drive. As she approached the house, she spotted a vehicle parked on the east side. She had to drive past the striking vehicle to get around the house and back to the barn and outbuildings, so she stopped alongside and rolled down her window.

  Upon closer inspection, the shiny coat of black paint on the older model Mercedes sport utility vehicle held three-dimensional flecks of deep red. Custom-painted flames waved backward from the headlights and front wheels. There was no one in the driver’s seat and no one on either her front or back porch. Puzzled, she drove toward the barn.

  The dogs in the outdoor runs that lined the road to the barn were at attention as she approached, their tails wagging, noses poking through chain link.

  Movement caught her eye, and a man on a small scooter-type vehicle rode around the side of the barn, heading toward her. An adult golden retriever trotted alongside him, apparently oblivious to the noisy dogs in the nearby kennels.

  Natalie parked in front of the barn and got out.

  His dark hair had blown and fallen across his forehead. He had a smile that crinkled the outside corners of his eyes and bracketed his mouth, showing off even, white teeth. Natalie was taken off guard by his presence and appearance. The closer he came, the more clearly the sound of the battery-powered scooter could be heard.

  He rolled to where she waited and stopped. In the immediate silence, several dogs whined and barked. His dog sat at attention at his side.

  “Natalie?” he asked.


  She nodded.

  He stuck a hand toward her. “Avery Sawyer.”

  Chapter Three

  She couldn’t have been more surprised. She hadn’t expected him to show up in person. He certainly looked fit, so she was curious as to the reason he used the scooter. “How did—when did…I didn’t know you were coming.”

  “I wanted to see your place for myself,” he said.

  She raised her eyebrows. “Well, come on, I’ll show you around.”

  He engaged his ride and followed her to the barn. The retriever trotted along behind. Natalie rolled open the wide door and the well-lit interior came into view. The floor was sealed brick-colored concrete. There were shallow drainage troughs every fifty feet so water ran off while hosing it down. Pens ran the length of each exterior wall and down the center, and each enclosure held some sort of small house, a pet bed on legs, or a heavy plastic igloo so that every dog had a sense of security.

  Most of the dogs came to the front of their pens and watched the humans with interest. Several barked at the retriever, but the man’s dog patiently looked to him for instruction.

  Avery reached out and fondled the dog’s ear. “Good boy.”

  “This is where the healthy dogs wait for owners,” she told him. There are twenty-eight pens in here. Eighteen are filled. I can double up most of them to make more space. There’s a small isolation room right inside the front door with three cages for animals with special needs.

  “And you saw there are accommodations for a dozen large animals outside, weather permitting. If I can place a few more of these guys this week, I can make it work. I’ve put out feelers for additional kennels to house the dogs coming in that will need more care, and I plan to put those on the other side.”

  “How do you find homes for them?”

  “Networking through the human society and other rescue centers. I have a Facebook page that gets me a lot of interest.”

  “What about a website?”

  “The humane society puts pictures on theirs for me.”

  He rode close to a pen where a Maltese mix stuck her nose through the chain links. Avery leaned to let her sniff his fingers. She managed a lick through the open space.

  “That’s Melody. She was left chained outside year-round and finally got loose and was hit by a car. Her pelvis was broken.”

  Avery moved to the next enclosure. The tan and white dog backed away from the gate. “A Corgi?”

  “I think Casey has a little spaniel mix too. He was a stray that had been abused. I drove all the way to Galveston to get him. His skin was raw with fleabites and mange, and he had sores all over. It took weeks and weeks to get him to trust me enough to take food from my hand.”

  Avery and the dog studied each other through the mesh enclosure. “Hey, Casey,” he said.

  The dog perked its ears and looked at Natalie before taking a few steps forward.

  Avery flattened his palm against the fence. “You can come over and sniff. It’s okay.”

  Casey wasn’t having any part of the stranger, however. He sniffed the air with a raised snout, then went to sit in front of his igloo house.

  “That’s okay,” Avery told him. “Maybe next time.”

  Natalie told Avery stories about each of the dogs in her center as they viewed the rest of the building. She opened an enclosure and introduced him to the three lab mixes, hoping he’d at least see the potential in these animals. The young dogs came out of their pen and stayed close for attention.

  “You can meet them, Pax,” Avery said. “Say hi.”

  The obedient retriever sniffed the puppies, tolerantly allowing them to bounce around him and playfully attempt to stand with front paws on his shoulders.

  “His name is Pax?” Natalie asked.

  “Paxton or Pax,” he replied. He surprised her by touching the back of her hand. “Say hello, Pax.”

  The dog immediately sat on his haunches in front of her and raised a paw.

  She took his paw and stroked his head. “You’re a handsome fella, you are.” Then to Avery, “Say hi and say hello are separate commands?”

  “He knows the difference.”

  “I obedience train dogs. I’ve never service trained, but I’ve participated in classes to see how it’s done.”

  “When he’s wearing his harness, he won’t leave my side without permission. He’s trained for mobility assistance. With that harness on, he could pull me in this chair if I needed him to.”

  She secured the puppies back in their pen and led her guest outside where the runs and outdoor kennels held dogs she’d turned out that morning.

  She opened the gate and selectively let out Abby, Goliath and Daughtry, so they could greet the visitors. The three of them danced and sniffed around the retriever and Avery’s feet. Abby found a rubber ball in the grass and brought it to Natalie. She tried to ignore the dog’s plea for playtime.

  “Here, girl,” Avery offered, extending his palm.

  Abby released the tooth-marked red ball into his hand, then danced around excitedly.

  Avery drew back his arm and threw the ball so hard and fast that Natalie had trouble following the arc it made as it sailed away. Abby was still running toward the ball when it finally landed in a patch of dry weeds.

  “Are you a professional pitcher or something?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “No.”

  She admired the creases that lined his cheek when he smiled. His dark hair was neatly trimmed, but longish in the front, and the breeze caught strands.

  Abby ran back with the ball in her mouth and he took it from her. He had a broad chest and thick muscled arms. She imagined it was quite a feat for Pax to pull him, plus the weight of that chair. She turned her attention back to the animals.

  Avery’s dog watched Abby with ears perked in interest, but didn’t move away from his owner’s side.

  “Once you’ve thrown it, she won’t quit,” Natalie warned him. “And your throws are obviously more of a challenge than mine. I doubt you’ll be able to leave today.”

  He glanced up at her. She met his eyes. Her breath caught. They were hazel with the darkest pigment around the outside edges of his irises and flecks of gold in the centers. His lashes were thick and black. Her stomach felt as though she was looking over the edge of a precipice. Embarrassed, she glanced away.

  He reached for the ball and gave it another impressive throw. This time Daughtry and Goliath ran along after Abby, Daughtry bringing up the rear with his uneven gait. They didn’t have a chance of getting to the ball first, but they seemed to enjoy accompanying her. They came loping back, ears flopping, and tails wagging. Once again Abby gave the ball to Avery.

  “Pax, come.”

  The dog immediately stepped to Avery’s side.

  Leaning forward, Avery unfastened the dog’s harness and slipped it into his pocket.

  He showed Pax the ball. The dog sniffed, gave it a lick.

  “Fetch!” Avery threw it hard and fast.

  Pax took off like a shot, the other dogs on his heels. Natalie wasn’t sure which one of them found it, but they quickly lost interest in the ball and smelled each other from all angles.

  “I guess they’re getting acquainted,” she said with a shrug.

  Avery only grinned.

  She glanced toward the house, remembering Avery Sawyer was her guest. “I can put on some coffee and we can talk.”

  He glanced at her back porch. “If you wouldn’t mind getting my chair from the back of the Mercedes and carrying it up to the porch, I’ll come in for a while. I warn you, it’s pretty heavy.”

  “Not a problem,” she replied. She was prepared to act as though she did this sort of thing every day.

  He reached into his jacket pocket and took out a set of keys. Using the remote, he pointed at the back of the vehicle. The rear door opened.

  “See that control box on the left?” he asked. “Press the green button and stand away. The
ramp will lower and you can push the chair down. It’s fastened against the interior with a clamp. You’ll see how to unlatch it.”

  Natalie did as he instructed. Goliath had returned and barked at the ramp as a winch and pulley system extended and lowered it smoothly to the ground. Natalie had to duck under the rear door, but there was a surprising amount of headroom inside the vehicle. She unlatched the motorized wheelchair and coasted it down the ramp.

  She studied the control unit. “Red?”

  She turned.

  Avery had ridden to her back porch and moved from the scooter to sit on the stairs. Using his arms, he was moving up one stair at a time.

  “The red button?” she called more loudly.

  “Yep. Stand back.”

  She did so and the ramp retracted as smoothly as it had extended. Natalie couldn’t imagine the investment in the customization this vehicle had undergone. But the man had more independence and mobility than he would have otherwise. Or so she imagined. She didn’t know his circumstance.

  She pushed the chair to the house and he leaned to help her lift its weight so she could get it to the top. With his hefty assistance, it barely weighed anything.

  “This won’t be the most graceful maneuver you’ve ever seen, and if I mess up, jump out of the way and save yourself.”

  Using his arms and upper-body strength, he had himself seated in that chair as slick as you please. She couldn’t have done the same if she’d had a week to practice.

  “All right, you’re safe,” he told her with a grin.

  She liked his cheerfulness. The dogs returned and crowded around her knees.

  “Pax, sit.” Avery fastened the dog’s collar around its neck and Pax resumed his place at his side. “I wouldn’t mind washing my hands.”

  “I’ll bet.” She knew what taking that slobbery ball from Abby’s mouth felt like. Natalie opened the back door and chided the dogs that skidded in around Avery’s chair. She was grateful for the huge roomy kitchen and solid wood floor which made it easy for him to work his chair in and ease it alongside the sink. “Mind reaching me the soap?”