Don't Give Me Butterflies

by Tara Sheets

“How did you manage to befriend a wild bird?”

  “Magic,” Kat said lightly. “And Cheetos. That’s how it all began. I fed him Cheetos, and he followed me everywhere after that. It was insta-love. Sometimes that’s just how it goes, you know what I mean?”

  Jordan nodded. “No.” That one word was rich with suppressed humor, but when his gaze lowered to her mouth, something in the air seemed to shift between them.

  Kat grew very still. It was that same feeling she got when she stood near a wild animal. As if something strong and wild and free was hovering just beyond her reach, and if she was very careful, it might come close enough for her to touch.

  She took a calming breath and tried to shake the feeling. “So, yeah. That’s how I made friends with Edgar. You should try it sometime.”

  He lifted a brow. “Magic?”

  “No,” she said with a laugh. “Attention and treats.” She pointed to Waffles, who was now peering around the corner of his stall. “You never know what kind of friendship will bloom if you just show a little interest. Some have lived their whole lives neglected and unwanted. It doesn’t take much to win them over with a little bit of kindness.”

  All the easygoing humor fled from Jordan’s expression until Kat could no longer detect anything but polite indifference. And she thought she was good at hiding her feelings.

  “Dinner’s in an hour.” Without another word, he turned and walked away.

  Kat watched him go, then glanced at Waffles, who’d stopped cowering in his stall once the coast was clear. “Was it something I said?”

  The mini donkey stepped closer, rubbing his fuzzy head against her arm.

  She scratched him behind the ears. “You know what? Who cares? I’m going to have cornflake casserole for dinner, and I’m determined to enjoy myself.”

  Waffles made a snuffling sound of encouragement.

  “Thanks,” Kat whispered. “I’m going to need it.”

  Chapter Six

  Opal answered the door wearing an apron with an embroidered birdhouse on it. She would’ve looked like a typical storybook grandmother if it weren’t for the glittery red fedora on her head. “You’re here,” she said happily. “But who is this?” She glanced down at Kat’s feet.

  Hank was sitting on the doormat, grinning up at Opal.

  “Hank, I told you to stay outside.” Kat pointed to the grassy yard.

  “Nonsense!” Opal waved them in. “I’ve always loved dogs. Fabulous creatures, really. Bring him in and I’ll give him a treat.”

  For a brief moment, Kat wondered how Jordan would react to her dog, but then decided she didn’t care. It was Opal’s house, too.

  “I like your hat,” Kat said, following her to the kitchen.

  “Oh, I forgot.” Opal pulled the fedora off her head. Her wispy hair feathered out in all directions. “It’s part of my costume for casino night at the community center. I’m on the party planning committee, you know.”

  Kat eyed the red glittery hat with black feather plume, wondering what the rest of her costume looked like.

  The kitchen table was set with blue and white melamine plates, paper napkins, and cups. A plastic pitcher of lemonade sat in the middle of the table, along with a square Pyrex dish covered in tin foil. There was a tiny vase with a daisy and a few sprigs of lavender beside the pitcher. The whole effect was quaint and simple, and Kat loved it immediately. Opal had invited her into her home, and Kat was grateful to be included. It wouldn’t have mattered if dinner was cold cereal or stale bread.

  “Jordan won’t be joining us,” Opal said. “He had plans to go out.”

  Kat thought of Jordan out to dinner with Layla, the woman in the red dress, and brushed it aside. It was better if he wasn’t there. At least she could relax and get to know Opal without feeling self-conscious. Jordan always made her feel like he could see the parts of herself she kept hidden away. The vulnerable parts. She didn’t like it.

  Opal went to the fridge and pulled out a covered plate, then chopped meat into tiny pieces, setting it on the floor for Hank. “Here you go, sweet boy.” She glanced up at Kat. “Leftovers from yesterday. Dogs love beef.”

  “You’re spoiling him,” Kat said, taking a seat at the table. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to have a new best friend.”

  “I should be so lucky! I’ve always said this house needed more pets. A cat, at the very least. In my old house, I had five. But that was before my dear Gerald passed away and I moved in here. Now we’ve got the chickens and the donkey, but those are barn animals. It’s not at all the same as a sweet dog or cat who can curl up next to you on the sofa.” She sat in the chair opposite Kat. “Every house needs a good pet or two.”

  “Or ten,” Kat said. “The more the merrier.”

  “I wholeheartedly agree. Dogs and cats are like potato chips. You can never have just one.”

  Kat suddenly sat up straighter. “Opal.”

  “Mmm?”

  “Would you want a cat? Just for a little while? There’s a pregnant feline at the animal shelter with no place to go. You could be a volunteer if you like, for just a few weeks until the kittens are ready for new homes. I don’t think she’d be much trouble. She’d probably just hide and sleep a lot.”

  “A cat. Kittens.” Opal paused, staring at the wall. She seemed far away, immersed in an old memory. But was it a good memory? Kat hoped so.

  “Yes,” Opal said. “I think that would be lovely. Bring her to me, and I’ll take good care of her. I’m happy to be a volunteer at your shelter, too.” She handed Kat a napkin. “Put my name on the list.”

  Kat felt a surge of gratitude for the old woman.

  “Now. I hope you like Cheesy Potato Crunch Casserole.”

  “Sounds delicious.” And even if it wasn’t, Kat would eat it with enthusiasm. It was the least she could do, considering how much Opal was willing to help with Clementine.

  A few minutes later, Kat found out that Cheesy Potato Crunch Casserole was sublime. It was the epitome of comfort food; like a cross between homemade mac ’n’ cheese and scalloped potatoes. With cornflakes thrown in for extra crunch. Cornflakes. Who knew?

  “Mmm,” Kat said in bliss. “I think I need to get this recipe.”

  Opal dished another scoop onto Kat’s plate. “I’m so happy you like it. It’s impossible to get Jordan to sit still for dinner. He’s always running out the door, preferring not to stay home unless absolutely necessary. But then, he was like that as a boy, too.”

  “He never liked staying home?” Kat would’ve killed to have a home where she belonged. Especially if it came with a grandmother who cooked cornflake casseroles.

  “I remember thinking he was too quiet. Always alone. Out wandering in the fields, staring off at the horizon. A boy needs more than just chickens to keep him company. But I blame his parents. My son was completely irresponsible in all things, and he found his match in Jordan’s mother. Scatterbrained dreamers who preferred partying over the important stuff.” She shook her head sadly. “Every pot has a lid, I guess.”

  Kat wondered what they must’ve been like. Or, rather, what kind of parents they were to Jordan, but she didn’t want to pry. Instead she said, “How long have you lived here in this house?”

  Opal poured more lemonade into their glasses. “Over one year now. Jordan’s father asked me to come help out on the farm. I agreed because I was lonely after my husband died, but it was a dumb idea to move. At my age, I can’t do much around the farm anymore. And I knew it was only a matter of time before they took off and left this all behind.” She shook her head. “Never could stick to anything they started. I think they just invited me so there’d be someone to clean up after them when they took off.”

  “Where did they go?” Kat asked.

  The back door to the kitchen suddenly opened before Opal could answer.

  Jordan walked in with grocery bags.

  “There you are,” Opal said. “Come and have a seat, Jordan.”

  “I’m fine
, Grandma.” He set the bags on the kitchen counter and began putting the groceries away.

  “We saved some of my signature casserole for you.”

  “I’m not hungry,” he said without turning around.

  “But it’s still hot.” Opal began to rise. “Let me get you a plate.”

  “No,” Jordan said in annoyance. Then he seemed to check himself. “No,” he repeated politely. “Thanks, but I’m just going to eat the leftovers I brought home yesterday.”

  Kat looked at Hank’s empty dish with dismay. He was curled up under the table near her feet, snoozing.

  “The dog ate it,” Opal said brightly. “You’ll have to eat casserole.”

  Jordan slowly turned from the cupboard. “What dog?”

  Showtime. Kat pressed her lips together and pushed casserole around on her plate with her fork.

  “The sweetest little dog you’ve ever seen,” Opal said happily, pointing to Hank. “There he is, the angel.”

  Kat stole a glance at Jordan from under her lashes.

  He was frowning down at Hank, who was oblivious. “You gave my leftover filet mignon to a dog?”

  “Well, dogs love beef,” Opal said. “Besides, I think—”

  “Grandma,” Jordan said flatly. “Why is there a dog in the house?”

  “He’s my dog,” Kat said, lifting her chin. “If you don’t want him in here I can take him outside.”

  “You never said anything about having a dog,” Jordan accused. “You’re here to take care of the animals. Bringing more animals here wasn’t part of the deal.”

  Kat slowly rose from her chair. She’d expected to have more time before she introduced her dog to them, but it was too late now. Where she went, Hank followed. It was nonnegotiable. She arranged her features into a blank look of surprise. “I thought you knew I had a small dog.”

  “How would I know that?” Jordan’s expression darkened. He was glowering. Yup, that was definitely a glower.

  “I’m sorry,” Kat blustered, knowing it was Hank’s future on the line and, therefore, her own. “I could’ve sworn we discussed that.”

  “We didn’t.”

  She gritted her teeth and stared him down. “It’s not like there isn’t enough room for a tiny dog who barely weighs five pounds.”

  “A dog wasn’t part of the agreement,” Jordan continued. “It’s not the size that matters.”

  Kat gave him a sideways glance. “You seem pretty knowledgeable on that subject.”

  There was a long pause. Uh-oh. Maybe she’d gone too far.

  Jordan’s mouth twitched. “Any dog, large or small, is unwanted here.”

  “I beg to differ, honey-boy,” Opal said in a voice that brooked no argument. “I am pleased as punch to have Hank around the house. Kat and I both vote for Hank, which means you’re outnumbered. Two to one.”

  With that, Opal picked up her plate and walked to the kitchen sink.

  Jordan was still glowering at Kat.

  She crossed her arms and mouthed, Honey-boy? It was deliberately sassy, but she didn’t care. He deserved it. Hank was part of her family. If Jordan didn’t approve of her dog, then he didn’t approve of her.

  Before she had a chance to say more, he stalked out of the kitchen.

  Chapter Seven

  “Can you please hold?” Kat asked for the third time. So far, her second day on the job was going over like a lead balloon. She switched the phone line to the next incoming call. “Hello?”

  No one answered. Great. Another call she’d accidentally disconnected. When was she going to get the hang of the office phone? Probably never. Good thing her boss wasn’t there to watch her crash and burn. Smitty had taken the morning off, mentioning that her grandson was supposed to stop by. Until that time, Kat was on her own.

  She blew out a frustrated breath and switched back to the first caller. “Okay, Wanda, please bring them in.” She held the phone away from her ear as the relieved woman on the other end shrieked in gratitude. “Yes, all of them. We’ll figure it out.”

  When Kat finally hung up the phone, she slumped in her chair. “Hank,” she said to her dog, who was sleeping under the desk. “Brace yourself for a whole lot of paperwork.”

  Thirty minutes later, a heavyset woman with ruddy cheeks and dark hair came through the door in a tangle of leashes, wagging tails, and excited barks. She looked exhausted, but the laughter and relief on her face was clear.

  “You must be Wanda,” Kat said as she came around the counter to take the leashes. Seven mixed Australian shepherd puppies zipped around her legs in a flurry of excitement.

  “I might be,” the woman said with a laugh. “I’ve been up for three nights straight and can’t remember my name. My younger sister bought a dog without thinking things through. She just started college,” Wanda said, as if that explained everything. “All those college kids get animals before they’re settled. Next thing you know, my sister’s dog has puppies and her landlord says they all have to go. So what does my sister do? She brings them to me.” Wanda threw her hands in the air. “All seven puppies, plus the mama.”

  Wanda bent to pat one of the squirmy puppies on the head. “These little guys need homes with a lot of space where they can run around. I’ve kept them for almost a week, but at two and a half months old, they’re going stir crazy and I’m a wreck. And so is my tiny house.”

  “What about the mama?” Kat asked. “Do you need a home for her, too?”

  “Maisy?” Wanda looked startled. “No, never. She’s staying with me for good. We’re a family now.”

  Kat knew exactly how she felt.

  “I’d keep them all if I could.” Wanda’s voice wobbled with emotion. “I really would.”

  Kat placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve come to the right place. We have a long list of volunteers who take in puppies until they can find good homes. And I’ll make sure they only go to homes that are a perfect fit.”

  Wanda sniffed. “Do you promise?”

  “I give you my word.” Kat knelt on the floor as seven puppies came at her in a tornado of wet noses, snuffling sounds, and yips of glee. They were brimming over with jubilance and curiosity. Kat laughed. “I can promise you that they’re happy and excited about their adventures ahead. You’ve done very well for them.”

  By the time Wanda filled out the paperwork and drove away, the new puppies were happily settled in the back room. Kat had already found a home for the other one, and had no doubt she could do the same for these.

  “Don’t worry,” Kat whispered to Clementine, scratching the orange tabby behind the ears. “You’re coming home with me today where it will be nice and quiet.”

  Slapping fur from her jeans and T-shirt, she returned to the front desk feeling pretty good. She was just pulling out the volunteer list to make some phone calls when the bells on the front door jangled.

  A tall, handsome man in jeans and a plaid shirt stepped into the office. He was wearing an honest-to-God cowboy hat, cowboy boots, and a silver belt buckle. And it really worked for him. Kat wasn’t used to seeing cowboys back in L.A., and she didn’t think there were any in the Pacific Northwest, either. But his rugged good looks and warm, friendly expression made her glad to be wrong.

  He tipped his hat and said, “Ma’am.”

  She almost giggled. Because of course he’d say “ma’am.” “How can I help you?”

  “I’m Bobby.” He waited a beat, as if that was enough of an introduction. When Kat didn’t respond, he said, “Bobby Bankston? I stopped by to take my aunt to lunch. She said she’d meet me here.”

  Kat’s mouth fell open in surprise. “You’re Smitty’s nephew?”

  He grinned, flashing a set of dimples that only added to his charm. “Surprised?”

  “No,” Kat said, shaking her head. “It’s just . . . from the way Smitty talked, I was expecting someone different.”

  Bobby leaned his forearms on the counter. “Let me guess. You were expecting a rambunctious, scruffy dog of a boy.
”

  “Sort of?” Kat gave him an apologetic smile.

  “If you’d caught me twenty years ago, that’s exactly what you’d get. My aunt doesn’t seem to realize I’ve grown up and I don’t run around wreaking havoc like I used to. She still sees me as the kid who chopped up her good tablecloths to make a fort in the backyard.”

  Kat crossed her arms and considered him. “I think I like you better now, knowing you did that.”

  “If that’s the case, I’ll have to tell you more about my wild escapades.”

  Before Kat could answer, Smitty Bankston pushed through the front door on a cloud of nicotine. She took one look at Bobby, and her face splintered into a grin. “Bobby, you better not be hitting on my receptionist.”

  He walked up to Smitty and engulfed her in a bear hug. She let out a squawk of laughter, and Kat’s mouth fell open. The woman could laugh? This Bobby Bankston had some magic in him.

  Smitty slapped at his back. “Put me down, you big oaf. You don’t want to break your poor aunt’s bones. I’m old!”

  Bobby gave her a spin and set her back down. “Nah, you’re made of solid steel and everyone knows it.”

  Smitty patted her hair and rearranged her face into its normal sour expression. “Kat, this is Bobby, my no-good scruffy dog of a nephew.”

  “I like the name Kat,” Bobby said, flashing his dimples again. “It suits you.”

  Kat flushed with pleasure.

  Smitty swatted him on the arm. “What’d I tell you? No flirting with my receptionist.”

  Bobby winked at Kat, then turned to his aunt. “I’d never do that, Aunt Smitty. Scout’s honor.”

  “You most certainly would. And the reason I know this is because you were never a Boy Scout.” She turned to Kat. “Don’t believe a word he says.” Even though Smitty was trying to look stern, Kat could tell she loved her nephew. It was a side of her boss Kat never expected to see. Crabby morning person? Check. Grouchy chain smoker? Check. Doting aunt? Mind-boggling.

  “You taking me to lunch, or what?” Smitty asked, hoisting her denim handbag over her shoulder.

  “Yes, but I also came for a legitimate reason. I’d like to adopt a dog.”