Who Rescued Who

by Victoria Schade

  Helping Rowan sort through his work was an education in technique. Though he was famous for his hyperrealistic landscapes, he had stacks of impressionistic works scattered throughout the barn, not to mention the portraits in the anteroom. Learning about his artistic progression lit a fire in Elizabeth. She could see her own technique improving with every canvas. The cat was her best one yet.

  Elizabeth’s phone alarm went off. Before she started using it, they’d painted well past their designated time. But Rowan was paying her for her organizational skills, and as much as she loved painting with him she wanted to honor their agreement and finish the job before she headed home. At the rate they were going they’d finish in another month, two max. It didn’t even feel like work, listening to Rowan talk about his inspiration and taking notes on her tablet. It was the best job she’d ever had.

  The barn door screeched open and Georgina ran to Elizabeth with wide eyes and her usually happy panting mouth shut tightly, not sure if she should be worried about the noise. On most days the door stayed shut until they were done, so Georgina was on guard for an unexpected intruder.

  “We talked about this,” Elizabeth said in a reassuring tone. “Remember? It’s all good. You’ve got this.” Georgina did a full-body shake—which Elizabeth now knew was a canine tension breaker—and trotted off to find Major again.

  It was Trudy at the door, clutching her bad arm under the elbow with eyes almost as wide as Georgina’s.

  “Faye,” she sputtered, and gestured with her good hand. “Faye is here!”

  Rowan dropped the dowel. “Here? What is she doing here?”

  “She said she needs to talk to you and you haven’t been returning her calls. She said it was important. I’ve made her a cup of tea to hold her off, but you must come up to the house now. Unless you want me to send her down here?”

  “No, no, no, absolutely not!” Rowan bellowed. “I’ll be up, tell her to wait there.”

  Trudy nodded and scurried out of the barn.

  Rowan sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Faye’s my gallerist. We’ve been together for my entire career. I adore her, but she’s been pushy lately. I suppose this visit was inevitable. Would you like to stay here and work or come up to meet her?”

  “I’m not exactly dressed for an introduction.” She pointed to her paint-splotched jeans. “I definitely want to meet her, though. If you don’t mind.”

  “Please,” he said warily. “Perhaps you can be a buffer.” He got up from his stool slowly.

  Trudy and Faye were sitting in the side garden off the conservatory, chatting and smiling. Elizabeth studied Trudy as they walked closer, trying to tell if her happy expression was genuine or forced. Unless she was an incredible actress, it looked like the women shared a true friendship. So why had Rowan been avoiding Faye? What was going on?

  “There you are, my dear,” Faye exclaimed, jumping out of her chair when she spotted Rowan. Other than a slight limp, she looked like a tiny, white-haired Audrey Hepburn, complete with tidy low bun, white button-down shirt, and slim black pants. The only spot of color on her was a pair of narrow neon-green eyeglasses.

  “Hello,” Rowan said, air-kissing both of her cheeks in a way that reminded Elizabeth that he had a life outside Fargrove. “Faye Woolard, please meet my niece, Bess Barnes.”

  “This is such an unexpected pleasure,” Faye said with genuine enthusiasm, reaching her small hand out to Elizabeth. “And Trudy tells me you’re an artist as well. It runs in the family!”

  “Yes, I’m Elizabeth,” she replied. “And I am a finger painter compared to Rowan,” she added, taking care to shake her hand as if it were ancient parchment.

  “Nonsense. Trudy says your animal paintings are a wonder. Perhaps you could show a few to me? Are you painting in the barn with Rowan?”

  Faye didn’t even know the correct name for the building. Rowan’s Operculum was indeed a covert operation. “Yes, we’re painting together, but I’m a beginner. Trust me, you don’t want to see my stuff.”

  “Perhaps we could all walk down to the barn and see what’s going on in there? I’m sure Rowan has all sorts of delights hidden away.”

  “You do not give up,” Rowan said, half good-naturedly, half chiding.

  “Well, in fact I do. And that’s why I’m here. May we sit?”

  They settled themselves in the heavy wrought-iron furniture next to Trudy, under the shade of a massive tree. Elizabeth felt unnecessary but wanted to know what was going on. Faye pursed her lips and tilted her head side to side, as if rehearsing what she was about to say before she began to speak.

  “Rowan, Trudy, you’ve known this day was coming for quite some time. And I’ve put it off for much longer than I should have. But now the time truly has come. I am finally retiring.”

  Trudy began trilling before Faye had even finished the sentence. “Wonderful! That’s wonderful! Isn’t it, Rowan?”

  “I am delighted for you. If you are ready, then it is indeed time.” He looked at Faye with a wistful smile.

  Elizabeth wondered what it meant for Rowan, and for herself. Would they still have to catalog his work if he didn’t have a gallery space? Was she unemployed once again?

  “Please don’t worry, everything will remain the same. Martin will be working with me during a brief transition period, then taking over. You and Martin have a wonderful relationship, don’t you?”

  “Oh, yes, yes, indeed,” Rowan replied.

  “Except for the time he suggested Rowan find a gallery suited for people who like antiques. I believe that’s what he said. ‘Old lace and antiques,’ wasn’t it?” Trudy turned to Rowan with a sour look on her face.

  Faye tittered. “That was just Martin being Martin! He was joking because Rowan has been with us longer than any other artist. He adores Rowan.”

  “Does he, though?” Trudy asked pointedly.

  Faye took a sip of tea and continued as though the exchange hadn’t happened. “I think my departure is going to be a seamless change for all of our artists. Of course, Martin has a few brilliant ideas for the gallery. Some up-and-coming artists, headline makers and such. But out current selection will remain, of course.”

  “How delightful,” Rowan said softly.

  “We’re all very excited,” Faye said, sounding like she was trying to convince herself.

  Elizabeth watched Rowan and Trudy as they discussed the particulars of Faye’s retirement. Something was off. Trudy focused on a button on her sleeve, trying to remove a flyaway thread, and Rowan kept shutting his eyes and running his fingertips lightly across his forehead as if he were reading Braille.

  Major came trotting up to the group, breaking the tension with hearty wags and play bows for Faye. They all seemed happy for the distraction, and Elizabeth realized that dogs were the equivalent of a pinging cell phone. She looked over her shoulder for Georgina, who was usually Major’s shadow, but there was no sign of her. Given the tension in the air, she was happy for an excuse to go look for the puppy.

  “Excuse me, I should find Georgina. Faye, it was nice to meet you.”

  “Such a pleasure,” Faye said without looking away from Rowan.

  Elizabeth hurried down toward the Operculum, imagining what sort of trouble the little dog might be getting into.

  She craned her neck as she passed the ladies’ barn, thinking that Georgina might be doing some intel on them while they were out to pasture. She paused and scanned the field beyond the barn, spotting the cream-colored dots on a faraway hill with no indication that an unschooled hooligan was testing their patience. Elizabeth’s heart started to pound. The property was so vast and wild that if Georgina decided to wander solo it was doubtful she’d be able to find her way home. She pictured the puppy trotting happily along without a backward glance, perhaps chasing a squirrel or bird, until she was so far away that even her superior sense of smell wouldn’t help he
r find her way back.

  It felt like the first night when she found Georgina, only this time there was a chance she wouldn’t find Georgina.

  She picked up her pace, envisioning the two naked sticks that were once an orchid sitting on the table by her door at home, and the bonsai tree she’d received as a gift that had managed to thrive for over fifty years until its premature death at her hands. Why did anyone think that she could be responsible for a living creature?

  “Georgina,” she called, trying to keep her voice happy. Then she remembered what Trudy had told her during a lesson. Use the proper recall when you want her to return to you, even though Trudy had told her not to test the word in a real-life situation yet. But why teach the word if you can’t actually use it?

  She filled her lungs and said it loud, but with a smile in her voice, so that she didn’t sound as nervous as she felt. “Here!”

  She paused and waited for the pup to come dashing from her hiding space. Nothing. She attempted the two-tone whistle William had taught her but couldn’t produce anything more than a puff of air.

  Elizabeth poked her head in the Operculum and called for the pup, but she could tell from the stillness in the air that Georgina wasn’t inside. She continued down the lane, toward where she’d walked with Trudy and Rowan on dispersement day. They hadn’t talked about the land situation since that day, and even though she still had weeks left in Fargrove, she wanted to calculate how much of a financial cushion she’d be bringing home with her. The longer she waited to bring up the sale of the land the more uncomfortable it felt.

  “Georg—” She stopped herself. “Here!” Her voice shook a little. She wondered if they could hear her back on the patio. Maybe William was on the grounds and had Georgina trailing him like a lovesick suitor. She continued down the lane. “Georgina, where are you?”

  The tall grass in front of her started undulating and Georgina burst out from the greenery with a wide, grinning pant and muddy paws. Elizabeth dropped to her knees.

  “I was so worried! Where were you?”

  Georgina raced to Elizabeth as if they’d been separated for weeks. Elizabeth leaned down and the puppy rolled onto her back, flipping back and forth like a fish on dry land. Her stomach was wet.

  “You were in the river? Naughty girl!” Elizabeth said. “You don’t know how to swim.” She reached out tentatively to rub Georgina’s belly, ready to snatch her hand back when the needle teeth nipped it, but Georgina held still as she stroked her. “You’re not going to bite me? Not this time? I guess that settles it. You really do like me.”

  She sat down on the weedy pea gravel next to the puppy, and Georgina crawled onto her lap. The puppy was uncharacteristically calm, allowing Elizabeth to pet her without reaching back to nip once. The noon sun warmed Elizabeth’s cheeks as she leaned back on her elbows and turned her face up to the light. Her freckles were reappearing, and she could hear the scolding she’d get from her aesthetician once she returned home and made a tune-up appointment.

  Elizabeth closed her eyes and realized that she didn’t need mantras and breathing exercises to feel calm in Fargrove. The weight of her puppy on her lap, the scent of wildflowers on the breeze, and the pebbles pressing into her palms like shiatsu kept her in the moment more effectively than any guided meditation she’d done. She felt at peace until she remembered what was happening on the patio down the lane.

  What was going to happen to Rowan? Based on Trudy’s guard-dog behavior Elizabeth could tell a shift was coming, and she didn’t know what it meant for any of them. The timing of Faye’s retirement announcement was strange, just a few weeks into Rowan’s three-month retrospective. Who was this Martin, and what was he capable of? Elizabeth felt herself preemptively hating him.

  Georgina adjusted herself and did the little stretch that Elizabeth loved, pushing her front paws straight out so far that she trembled a little, then drawing them back up to her chest bunny-style.

  “Don’t run off like that again, okay? You scared me.” Elizabeth gave her a little squeeze. Georgina made a contented sound and snuggled in closer. Even though the heat was relentless, Elizabeth liked the feeling of Georgina’s sun-warmed fur pressed against her. She leaned forward a little so she could pull her phone from her back pocket only to remember that it was still sitting in the Operculum on her easel. She kissed Georgina on the top of the head and the little dog leaned back and licked her on the chin.

  chapter twenty-five

  James and Elizabeth stood outside the door at Dogs Trust, peeking in at the puppy. Elizabeth bounced on her toes and tried to read his face as he watched the little dog. Did he like her? Did he think she was cute? Elizabeth was too worried about her canine matchmaking to think about the fact that she was on an unofficial official first date with James Holworthy. Before he could fall in love with her, he had to fall in love with a tiny, needy puppy.

  The puppy had come a long way since Elizabeth’s first visit. She was tearing into a Kong, kicking it around the room with determined gusto. Her tail wagged and she reared back on her hind legs, waving her front paws in the air like a mime as the treat-filled toy rolled away.

  James stood with his arms crossed and a little smile on his face as he leaned his forehead against the glass. He couldn’t look more adorable in his bright blue checkered button-down shirt and slim dark jeans. A few of the dark curls at the nape of his neck almost touched the collar of his shirt.

  Lisa had graciously stepped aside to let Elizabeth do the introduction alone after a rank-pulling phone call from Trudy. Her volunteering, and more likely the generous Barnes donations, allowed Trudy to occasionally bend the rules. Elizabeth had felt awkward asking Trudy to step in on her behalf, but the moment she mentioned James over afternoon tea Trudy gave her a knowing smile and walked directly to the kitchen phone.

  “Are you ready to meet her?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Definitely. I cannot wait to get my hands on that pup.”

  “I need to warn you that she might be a little shy at first. I’d let her warm up to you before you try to pet her.” Elizabeth stifled her imposter syndrome as she talked about how to handle the puppy. Hell, she’d been the first one to get through to the nervous little thing, and she’d learned a lot from dealing with Georgina. She knew what she was doing with puppies. Sort of. Like Rowan said, she had good instincts.

  James followed her into the small room and the puppy froze in place, then sank low to the ground.

  “Uh-oh,” James said.

  “No, no, just give her a second! She’ll come out of her shell.” Elizabeth prayed it was true and went into full spin mode. “She’s got gorgeous coloring, don’t you think? She’s probably a mix of—”

  “Rottweiler and chocolate lab. I can see it from here. My family had a Rottie when I was a kid. She’s perfection.”

  James crouched down and watched the puppy. She didn’t move toward him and instead swung her head back and forth, assessing him through the air.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered.

  The puppy took a tentative step toward him, and Elizabeth held her breath. She thought about pulling out her phone to record their first meeting, but it was buried in her purse across the room.

  James sat down and placed his hand on the ground a few feet in front of him, palm side down. The puppy kept her back paws anchored in place but tiptoed her front paws so that she could steal a sniff, stretching her body out as far as it could go. The smells were too tempting to resist, and the puppy surrendered and approached him, tracing her nose along the contours of his hand.

  “That was so fast,” Elizabeth said quietly. “You’ve got some puppy magic.”

  “Or I coated my hand in liver powder,” James replied.

  “You did?”

  He chuckled and reached into his breast pocket with his other hand, pulling out a crumpled-up treat bag.

  “What a great idea,” El
izabeth said.

  “Figured I’d cheat a little, since you’re convinced that this is my next dog.”

  “Do you agree?” She held her breath.

  James stroked the puppy, who was sitting close to him and enjoying his attention. “If it were only up to me I’d say yes, but I have a very important flatmate that needs to sign off on her too.”

  Elizabeth cocked her head at him. Roommate? Had her stalking failed her?

  “Porter.”

  “Right, of course, Porter! Do you think he’ll like her?”

  “Hard to say. Sometimes puppies make him nuts. We’ve had a few pass through the office and he doesn’t have much patience for puppy stuff.”

  “Well, if Georgina is any barometer for ‘puppy stuff’ I’d say that this puppy here is pretty chill. She seems super calm.” The little dog was sniffing along James’s leg.

  “Sure, in this environment she’s calm, but once I spring her and she starts living the good life it’ll be hello, insanity.”

  Elizabeth leaned back against the wall. Was she failing as a matchmaker?

  “So, then our next step is a meeting with Porter, right?”

  “Are you in sales? Because you’re working awfully hard to close this deal!” He laughed at her and the sound rumbled through the tiny room. The puppy wagged her tail and moved closer to James, as if his laugh were a siren song.

  “I just had a feeling about this match. That you were the one for her.”

  “Is that so?” He locked on her eyes and it felt inexplicably familiar. “Tell me why you think that we’re meant to be together.”

  “Well, she needs someone . . . special. To help her find her confidence. And you seem like you could do that for her. You and Porter, that is.”

  “Thank you,” he replied, watching Elizabeth until the puppy swatted his hand to get him to continue petting. “That’s kind of you to say. What else?”