“Okay. I thought you meant you’d seen her drinking or smelled it on her breath or something.” He whacked a couple more nails and then stood back to survey his work. “She’s been sober for a while, right?”
“A couple of years, to hear her tell it.”
“You don’t believe her?”
“You can’t ever believe an alcoholic,” Corbin blurted out with more vehemence than he’d intended. Seeing Reese’s raised eyebrow, he tried to explain. “She means well. They usually do. It’s just a tough addiction to break. And I promised myself I’d stay away from relationships with women who drink, or who have that tendency.”
“Yeah, I heard.” Reese sounded almost amused.
“You did?”
“Jen Adams told me you went cold on her the minute she ordered a glass of wine. At first she figured you were just cheap, but after you encouraged her to order the most expensive thing on the menu, she realized it was the drinking that bothered you.” He grinned. “She said she ordered a second glass just to test her theory, and you barely said another word to her for the entire meal.”
“Jen Adams...oh, yeah.” He remembered the petite, curly-haired electrician now. She’d seemed nice enough, until she’d crossed the line he had set for himself.
“You know,” Reese said mildly, gathering his tools, “lots of people enjoy a glass of wine. And lots of other people know they can’t, and stick with that. If you’re cutting out connections with both those groups of people...”
“I know. I get it, I’m being rigid.”
“But...” Reese raised an eyebrow.
“But I remember what it was like to get my hopes up about my mom and have her let me down. I can’t handle more of that. And no way will I subject Mikey to it.”
“Not everyone’s your mom.”
“True, but how can I know for sure?” Corbin shook his head. “I really think it’s best for me just to avoid those women.”
“Okay, fine,” Reese said, “but you don’t seem real happy about avoiding Samantha.”
“I’m not.” Corbin frowned, leaning against the fence. “It’s a problem.”
“You’re the one who always tells me where to go with my problems,” Reese said.
“Right.” And Corbin hadn’t done that yet, with Samantha. “I’ve been so preoccupied with helping Mikey get adjusted, I haven’t taken the time to pray about it.”
“Not to mention you’re busy with a big-time job at the university.” Reese shrugged. “But you know as well as I do that when you’re overwhelmed, that’s the time to take it to the Lord. Also...”
“What?”
“You might not remember this,” Reese said slowly. “But once, you told me that everyone makes mistakes. When you said that, it made me accept that Gabby had made a few, and I had, too. Ever think about extending that same kind of grace to Samantha? And even to yourself?”
“No. Not really.” What did Reese mean, extend grace to himself?
“Think about this, too,” Reese went on. “You’re trusting Samantha to take care of Mikey when you’re at work. So you must believe on some level that she’s got her drinking under control.”
“She’d never do anything to hurt Mikey.” Of that, Corbin was sure.
“So...if she fell in love with a guy, do you think she’d do anything to hurt him?”
Did he? He tried to imagine Samantha drinking and failing to fulfill her responsibilities, breaking promises, maxing out credit cards. All the things his parents had done when Corbin was growing up.
It wasn’t a picture that went with the woman he was getting to know.
And as they walked into the barn, just ahead of a busload of Rescue Haven boys, Corbin tried to reconcile the two warring thoughts in his head: the part that wanted to protect himself, and the part that wanted to open himself up to new ideas and possibilities.
Chapter Eight
The light was turning golden when the barn door opened to reveal Corbin standing there.
Samantha’s heart stuttered.
He wore a long-sleeved dress shirt, open at the collar with the sleeves rolled up, tie stuffed carelessly into his pocket. His hair was a little overlong and his glasses gave him a serious look. Every inch a professor. But the warmth in his eyes as he squinted into the dimness took him beyond the stereotype. Corbin was a major intellectual, but he had a compassionate servant’s heart.
“Corbin!” Mikey spotted his brother and guardian. He ran and jumped into his arms, and Corbin’s smile got wider and warmer.
As Corbin swung Mikey up high before folding him into a bear hug, Samantha’s heart melted some more.
There was no time to explore that feeling, however, because right behind Corbin was a herd of middle-and high-school-aged boys. They must have gotten off the school bus that she’d heard squeaking and creaking its way up the hill.
The boys’ noise sparked a virtual riot among the dogs, who barked and jumped inside their pens. The boys seemed oblivious, punching each other good-naturedly, laughing about some joke they’d shared, obviously having a good time and glad to be there.
Mikey tugged Corbin’s hand, drawing him toward Samantha. Once safely ensconced between them, Mikey stared round-eyed at the big boys’ shenanigans.
A loud whistle pierced the air, and immediately, the boys quieted down and settled into chairs around a long table. To Samantha’s surprise, it was Gabby who’d whistled, and who now stood in front of the boys, waiting for their full attention.
“She’s got a lot of control over them,” Samantha murmured to Corbin.
He grinned and nodded. “Word in the barn is, don’t mess with her.”
“Okay,” Gabby called. “I want to talk to you all about helping with a float for the Memorial Day parade, but first, we need to take care of the dogs. Twenty minutes, walk or playtime, and I want every pen and dish clean.”
A couple of the boys grumbled or rolled their eyes, but they all went fairly quickly to the rows of pens that lined the side and back of the barn. That was when Samantha realized that each boy had his own dog to work with, except for a couple of the older ones who had two. Some of the dogs seemed well trained, while others ran wildly, pulling on their leashes and barking at each other. Some were small, most medium-sized, and a couple were downright huge—the fluffy black giant and a mostly white Great Dane mix.
Mikey clapped his hands and laughed to see the dogs all out, and before Samantha could process what he was doing, he twisted away from them and ran at the nearest dog. It reared back, obviously frightened of the shouting little boy. The older boy handling the fearful dog urged it behind him and put out a hand to stop Mikey.
As both Corbin and Samantha hurried toward Mikey, he turned and ran at another dog who began to bark.
“Mikey.” Corbin’s voice was stern as he blocked Mikey and knelt in front of him. “Stop.”
Mikey did stop and stared up at Corbin. Samantha stared a little, too; she’d never heard Corbin’s voice this stern.
“Sit down on that hay bale,” Corbin ordered, and Mikey did, his eyes welling up with tears.
The boy’s contrite expression would have turned Samantha to mush, but it didn’t seem to have that effect on Corbin. “Dogs can hurt you,” he said. “And you can hurt them. You have to touch them carefully.”
Mikey looked confused.
“Use two fingers,” Samantha chimed in. It was what they’d told the kids in the day care when any animal had come in. At this age, Mikey needed the specifics, so she held out two fingers and demonstrated on Mikey’s arm. “Like that.”
Mikey held out two fingers and stroked Samantha’s arm, and when she glanced at Corbin, he flashed a smile.
“You always ask the older kid or grown-up who’s with the dog first, before you pet it,” Corbin continued his lecture. “Understand?”
Mikey nodded so
lemnly.
“You should get him a dog, Doctor Beck,” one of the boys called as he walked past. “We have a lot up for adoption.”
Samantha suppressed a smile.
Mikey’s expression brightened. “Want dog.”
Corbin laughed a little. “Go play,” he told Mikey.
“Why are the dogs up for adoption if they’re part of the therapy for the boys?” Samantha asked.
“The boys train them to be family pets, if they’re suitable for that. There are always more dogs in need when these get adopted out.”
Mikey had ventured closer to the pens, and one of the teen boys led the giant fluffy black mutt over to him. “You want to walk the dog?” he asked Mikey.
“Yeah!” Mikey yelled.
Samantha stared for a minute, unable to believe the teenager could be serious. Boomer was twice as big as Mikey was, his giant head at the same level as Mikey’s.
“Here you go,” the teen said, and handed the leash to Mikey.
“Wait!” Samantha rose and hurried over. That dog was way too big, and with Mikey shouting, he was putting himself in danger. What was the teenager thinking?
“Look!” he cried rapturously to Samantha and Corbin as he walked straight ahead, the dog plodding slowly beside him. “I’m walking him!”
“You can’t yell in his ear, buddy,” Samantha said as she caught up to the trio: Mikey, the dog and the teen who’d orchestrated the encounter.
“He doesn’t know the difference,” the teenager reminded her. “He’s deaf.”
“Oh, right.” No wonder the big dog was so calm around Mikey’s loud exuberance.
“Walk him back this way, Mikey,” Corbin said.
Mikey turned and walked toward Corbin, and to Samantha’s surprise, the dog stayed at his side. “Want this dog,” Mikey said, his smile huge.
Samantha could see why. How wonderful it would be to a little boy to have such a large, furry companion. And the fact that he was deaf could definitely make it easier for him to be around a shouting toddler. But still, she could see why Corbin wasn’t eager to agree. “Mikey, that dog is just so big,” Samantha said. “He must weigh over a hundred pounds.”
“A hundred and forty,” the teenager said, sounding proud.
Reese had come in at some point, and now he approached them. “Boomer is gentle as a lamb,” he said. “If you’re considering...” He trailed off and looked at Corbin. “We can talk.”
“I guess.” Corbin looked a little overwhelmed.
“Big dogs seem to be calmer,” Reese said. “Less of a bite risk.”
Gabby had come over to get into the discussion. “Don’t deaf dogs startle easily? And couldn’t that lead to problems?” She nodded down at Mikey, who was running his hands through Boomer’s fur.
“That’s a bit of a myth,” Corbin chimed in, his face going thoughtful. “Statistically, deaf dogs are no more likely to bite than hearing dogs. It’s always a good idea to approach them from the front, though, and wake them gently. Mikey would have to learn.”
“You’re considering it?” Samantha’s voice rose to a squeak as she considered the bear-like dog.
“All right!” The teenager did a fist-pump. “We’ve been trying to place him for a long time, but between his hearing and his fur, nobody wants him. Plus, he’s old for a big dog.”
Obviously, the kid had something to learn about salesmanship, and he wasn’t saying anything Samantha hadn’t already known about Boomer, but his words tugged at her heart. She reached out a hand to the big black dog, and he sniffed it, then gave it a light lick. Then he flopped down as if all the attention had worn him out.
The teenager patted the big dog’s head. “When he was dropped off here, he kinda freaked when you woke him up. But we work on conditioning him every day, making it into a good thing, not a scary thing, when somebody surprises him. Now, he just looks at you when you wake him up, like, ‘Where’s my treat?’”
They talked a little more about the dog’s needs. Corbin hadn’t worked with him for his research project, but he’d seen him around. Samantha quickly warmed to the idea of Boomer joining Corbin’s family; the dog did seem super gentle, and Corbin was neat enough that he wouldn’t mind running the vacuum cleaner every day because of the dog’s shedding.
“Love him,” Mikey said, his voice rapturous, and they all looked down to see him curled up beside the dog, his head resting on the dog’s chest. Samantha’s chest warmed, and she glanced over at Corbin.
He was looking at Mikey, the corners of his mouth curling up, his eyes crinkled. “I think that about says it all. I’d like to adopt this dog.”
Amazed at how he’d gone from resistance to enthusiasm, Samantha gave him an impulsive hug. He pulled her closer for an instant, and the warmth of his embrace felt like coming home.
And then they were both backing away, and Samantha knew that the uncomfortable expression on Corbin’s face was mirrored on her own.
* * *
Saturday, between dealing with Mikey’s excitement about Boomer and getting the dog settled, Corbin was exhausted. Finally, Mikey went to sleep and Corbin collapsed into a kitchen chair.
He looked over at Samantha, who was across from him at the kitchen table, her shoulders a little slumped. She had to be at least as tired as he was. “I’m sorry you had to work another Saturday,” he said. “Be sure to take a day off this week.”
“I will, to work on the float,” she said. “But I truly didn’t mind helping today. It was great to see how happy Mikey was with Boomer.” She reached down and rubbed the big black dog’s head, and he slid onto the floor beside her, landing with a thump and a sigh. He had to be exhausted, too.
Boomer had proven to be house-trained and gentle, but he had grabbed numerous items off the counters and tabletops before they’d realized they had to further dog proof Corbin’s house. It was toddler proof, but when Boomer put his front paws up on the counter, he was way taller.
And although Boomer was an older dog, he’d gotten pretty excited about moving from the Rescue Haven shelter to a house. They had taken him for a long walk in the hope that he’d settle down.
From the looks of things, it was finally working.
“What are you doing tonight?” He wished they could just hang out together, watch a movie or something, but he knew that wasn’t wise. “I’m going to prepare my classes for next week.”
She smiled tiredly. “As soon as I get a little energy back, I’m going to sketch out a design for the float so the boys can get started on the base of it on Monday.”
“Why don’t you take a break tonight?”
She shook her head as she stood and headed for the coffee maker. “I have to do a good job on the float. If Mrs. Markowski likes it, she’ll support my setting up a kids’ program at Rescue Haven. It’s my chance to make it in this town, and I like it here.”
She liked it here! Happiness bubbled through him as he watched her, and he tried not to think what his own joy meant. “I thought maybe you had some bad memories here.”
“Well...” Some of the light went out of her face.
“You never did tell me about Jack.” He stopped. “Not that you should.” He needed to rein in his desire to know everything about Samantha. That wasn’t his right, and it wasn’t wise.
She leaned against the counter. “No, it’s okay. You might as well know, though this is private.”
“Of course.”
She studied him for a minute, then sighed. “He’s the father of the child I lost.”
Really? Corbin was jolted at the thought. Quickly, he reviewed what he remembered about Jack and Samantha from high school days. Jack was older than she was, and Corbin didn’t remember them having a relationship. He’d been away at college himself, most of those years, but when he was home he’d paid pretty close attention to Samantha; he would have noticed if
she’d had a steady boyfriend. Indignation rose in him, a defensive feeling for a high school student who’d gotten pregnant by a college-aged boy. “Did he take advantage?”
“No.” She ran a finger around the edge of her coffee cup. “No, I was a willing participant. I... I didn’t know any better at the time, Corbin. I was all about having fun and breaking rules.”
“Did he take responsibility?”
She smiled faintly. “No, he didn’t do that, either.”
Corbin’s fists clenched. How could an older, wealthier kid conceive a child with a woman and not take responsibility for it?
“He apologized for that last Sunday.” Samantha rubbed at a spot on the table. “I can’t fault him for not stepping up, not really. We were both immature and I didn’t know how to have a good conversation about responsibility. I didn’t push it, because I didn’t know men ever really took responsibility. My own father didn’t.”
Protectiveness welled up in him. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been difficult.”
“It was,” she said. “But hey, everyone has tough times.” She sighed and pushed away from the counter. “I should get to work.”
He couldn’t fix what had happened in the past, but maybe he could be supportive now. “Let me help you design the float.”
“No! You have classes to prepare.”
Boomer lifted his large head, seeming to sense that they were arguing even though he couldn’t hear their voices.
“I want to do it,” he said. “I’ve actually done a fair amount of designing in my research, setting up different types of pens and feeding stations. And I’m pretty good with technology. Remember, I helped draw up plans for the Rescue Haven float last year. I already said I’d help build the float, but I’d be glad to give you a hand designing it, too.”
She opened her mouth as if to say something, but closed it again, bit her lip, and studied him as if assessing his seriousness.
Finally, she nodded. “I should say no, but I know it would be better if I had some help designing it as well as building it. I don’t know a whole lot about designing floats, and I want it to be good enough to pass Mrs. Markowski’s test. I have a feeling she’s pretty particular.”
Child on His Doorstep (Rescue Haven) Page 8
