The Coast Road Home

by Vickie McKeehan

“What’s his name?”

  “No idea. I left that up to Mrs. Clarkson to do,” Cord said, staring over at Marley, hoping she’d offer.

  When she saw that look in the vet’s eyes, her lips curved into a smile. “No way. I haven’t even moved in yet. Not completely anyway. My house is empty except for a lawn chair and an air mattress.”

  “That doesn’t mean you won’t need a dog when you get all set up.”

  Marley bent her head down to puppy level and gazed into the little guy’s huge black eyes. “How old is he do you think?”

  “I’d say five months, based on an estimation that he came into this world around the middle of December. He was eight weeks when I handed him off to Mrs. Clarkson.” Cord scooped him up and carried him over to a scale. “Weighs about thirty pounds. Underweight. We’ll have to get him healthy again before he’s neutered.”

  “How big will he get? I know rottweilers are huge. This guy looks like he’s more rottweiler and less poodle. Don’t you think? Just look at those big paws.”

  “But he has curly hair. That says poodle. On the other hand, the black and tan coloring…”

  Marley let out a sigh and didn’t let him finish. “What can I say? Okay, I’ll take him.”

  “That was easy.”

  “Well, why wouldn’t I? I’ll have to break him from the people food and eating out of garbage cans. He’ll need to be housebroken. And definitely put us down for that neutering when the time is right.”

  “You bet. Why don’t you stop by in about three hours? Give me a chance to clean him up and run some tests. He was healthy back in February. Now, after three months, I’m not so sure. You’ll need to think up a name.”

  Marley ran a hand through the dog’s dirty black and tan fur. She thought of her son, Leo, and the golden retriever that had given its life trying to protect them all to no avail. It seemed natural to name this lost dog after the one her son had treasured. “His name’s Barkley. Barkley Lennox the Second.”

  Cord’s eyes sparkled with delight. “Barkley The Second it is then. Hey, wasn’t that the dog’s name in that movie with Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan?”

  “You mean the one in You’ve Got Mail? I’m pretty sure that was Brinkley.”

  “Oh, right, Brinkley. What happened to Barkley The First then?”

  “My son’s idea was to name his first dog Barkley. Get it? Dogs bark. Bark-Ley. Leo thought it was hilarious.”

  It hadn’t escaped Cord that she hadn’t actually answered the question. “Well, you come back in three hours and Ellie will have Barkley The Second all beautiful and ready to go to his new home.”

  Like a fool, Marley had kept her word and returned to pick up the pooch. And hadn’t regretted a minute since taking him in, even when the mutt peed where he wasn’t supposed to.

  She found out the hard way that Barkley was a bit of a klutz. Those big paws weren’t made for dainty footsteps. He clomped wherever he went—upstairs, downstairs, running outside. She hated to think what he would do once she got her furniture in the rooms. But one thing was clear. Barkley made so much noise that she was certain Leo and Riordan would have adored him. And that made it possible for her to forgive his big feet and most of his messy accidents.

  It didn’t matter that he was clumsy. That was fine by her. She enjoyed the company because Barkley went wherever she went. She was in the process of housebreaking him, working on his social skills, and curbing his poor eating habits. It was a slow effort that took plenty of patience. But these days, she had nothing better to do anyway except figuring out what to do for the rest of her life.

  With Barkley stretched out nearby, she plotted where she’d plant the garden she wanted. Maybe she could still grow something that could be harvested in August or September. She researched it and decided the zone could handle green beans for sure, green onions, chives, and a long list of other herbs. And she’d need to seed butter lettuce.

  “But you won’t dig them up, right Barkley?”

  Barkley licked her face.

  After spending an hour sketching out a garden design to show Gideon, she jumped when her cell phone rang. It was the movers scheduling delivery for tomorrow. Thrilled with the news, she did a happy dance and texted Gideon.

  We’re celebrating tonight. I get my furniture tomorrow.

  Finally. Does celebrate mean we’re eating in or out?

  I don’t care as long as we don’t have to leave Barkley alone.

  Then I’ll get takeout.

  Sounds like a plan.

  After getting that squared away, she turned back to the dog. “Let’s take a walk and check on Wally’s progress.”

  Her dad’s old Harvester Scout was still getting its makeover. Wally had located all the parts he needed and was even now in the process of sanding and painting. She had high hopes that he could make the ancient vehicle look like it hadn’t been crushed by a big rock.

  Wally was his optimistic self. “It doesn’t look like it, but I’m almost ready for the paint job. I’m just trying to match the sunburst paint color exactly as it appeared right off the showroom.”

  “You’ve already done a fantastic job just locating the parts.”

  “Yeah, well, California’s a huge state. I scavenged everywhere I could think to look, called in favors from friends, and it sometimes was just plain old luck that I ended up getting there ahead of anyone else. But give me another couple of days and you should be able to tell me if you think the color is a match.”

  “Wally, if you can get my dad’s car up and running again, I don’t care if it’s showroom sunburst or not. I just want to be able to drive it again.”

  “I’ll do better than that. I told you I would. I want this vehicle to look it’s absolute best when you drive it out of my parking lot.”

  She shook her head, knowing it was true. “Perfection is overrated. Give me a call when you want me to check the color.”

  “Will do. Got your California license yet?”

  “You know I don’t. And I’m not taking out your Monte Carlo just to drive over to San Sebastian to do it, either.”

  But he could see through her ruse. “You’re still studying the manual, aren’t you?”

  “Yup. Gideon keeps quizzing me with sample questions. Until I do better, I’m not setting foot inside the DMV. I’m not making a fool of myself by failing my driver’s test.”

  “Want to explain how your patient is now mine?” Quentin asked, sending Gideon a concerned look.

  The two men were inside Gideon’s office rehashing a host of issues.

  “All my patients eventually become yours,” Gideon pointed out. “That’s the way this works. I’m not the one in practice. You are. What’s wrong with you, anyway?”

  “Uneasy about us getting sued because you’re messing around with a patient.”

  “I’m not messing around.”

  “In case you haven’t checked the computer, at her last appointment, the stitches came out.”

  “I didn’t have to check the computer.”

  “See? That’s what mean. How long have you been sleeping with her?”

  “None of your business.”

  “I’ll add touchy to your recent broody mood.”

  “My mood is just fine. But hey, now I can live a happy life since Quentin Blackwood has weighed in on my sex life. You don’t like her, do you?”

  “I don’t know her.”

  “Then why don’t you and Sydney come over to the house for dinner this Friday night?”

  “Okay. We’ll do that. How’s she…coping lately?”

  “You saw her when you yanked out the stitches. How’d she look to you?”

  “Like a woman excited about putting down roots. I will say her mental state seems stronger. During her appointment, she even talked to me about her kids. Albeit briefly.”

  “I like the sound of that. Anytime she can go on about her family, it’s one more step in the healing process.”

  “Yeah, well, I asked if she needed a referral
to see a therapist and I thought she’d bite my head off.”

  “She went to counseling for two years, now she’s convinced it’s all bunk.”

  “But she was a therapist.”

  “Yeah. Lost total faith in the field I’m afraid.”

  “So, she won’t be taking that up here then?”

  “I doubt it.” But he could tell the wheels were turning in Quentin’s head.

  “That’s a shame. She’d have to get licensed in the state first anyway. But we could use a competent therapist on staff.”

  Gideon whirled from his computer screen. “Don’t do that. Don’t push her. Don’t even bring it up. She’s just now starting to live again. The last thing she needs is the added pressure from you to make her think she’s letting people down by not taking up her old profession.”

  Quentin held up his hands. “I get it. I’m not an idiot. But you’d have to agree we need a good therapist on staff.”

  “Yeah, but it doesn’t have to be Marley.” He narrowed his eyes, lasered them on Quentin. “You’ve already checked her credentials, haven’t you?”

  “I just wanted to make sure she had the latest training available. Turns out, she’s a little behind on her Wisconsin certifications.”

  “She hasn’t practiced in three years,” Gideon stated, raising his voice. “She doesn’t intend to either. She’s done with it. Drop it, okay?”

  “Okay. You don’t have to bite my head off. It was just an idea. Don’t be so touchy. I didn’t realize she’d completely given up on how she made a living…before. I thought she’d…you know…eventually, realize she could do it again.”

  “Well, now, you know.”

  “If you’re done jumping down my throat, I’d like you to take a look at Pete Alden’s MRI. It looks fine to me.”

  “Sure. How about now?” Gideon got to his feet, but his cell phone rang. After checking the display, he held up a hand toward Quentin. “I have to take this. It’s Caleb Jennings from the garden center. He’s supposed to give me a quote in the next day or two about sprucing up my backyard.”

  “It needs an overhaul, not sprucing up,” Quentin muttered to himself as Gideon disappeared into the hallway to take the call.

  Less than thirty seconds later, Gideon reappeared, phone in hand, texting Marley.

  Change of plans. Meet me at my place at five. Caleb’s had a cancellation, and he can look at the backyard on his way home from work. I need your input.

  After getting back to the house, Marley had taken a shower and put on clean clothes. She’d paired a white peasant blouse with twill shorts in a floral print and headed downstairs to make a pitcher of iced tea.

  Her kitchen had the basics, but little else, a coffee pot she’d bought at Ferguson’s hardware along with an inexpensive skillet. She’d picked up a set of cheap, mismatched dishes from Reclaimed Treasures to make do until her stuff arrived.

  Gideon’s text came in right before she put on the water for the tea. It made her smile. She wondered if Caleb, the landscaper, might bring along Shiloh. If that happened, she definitely wanted to be around to see the look on Gideon’s face when the young woman started fawning over him.

  With Barkley in tow, she arrived at Gideon’s place fifteen minutes early. A few minutes later, Caleb pulled up in his pickup and parked next to the rutted pavement.

  “This is an eyesore,” Caleb noted. “I wondered how long it would take the good doctor to do something about it. Are you the reason?”

  “Not me. I’m just here to add in my two cents. I already know you’ll have to use a jackhammer to dig up the asphalt and a backhoe to get rid of it.”

  Caleb grinned. “I like you. I like people who understand this is gonna take some time and muscle. But it has to be done. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve driven by here and wanted to rip it all up.”

  Marley held Barkley’s leash and spotted Gideon coming around the corner. “Now’s your chance. Here’s the man we have to guide toward a better backyard.”

  “I heard that,” Gideon said, leaning down to give Marley a kiss and ruffle the dog’s fur all in one sweep. “So, what do you think?” he asked, turning to Caleb.

  “Plow it all under and put in raised beds. Make a steppingstone pathway that winds its way through the entire garden from front to back. We pick drought-resistant plants like mature lavender, yarrow, sage, and rosemary. But before we do any of that, first we dig up this awful crumbling pavement. It’s a nasty job.”

  “And sounds expensive,” Gideon pointed out.

  “I won’t lie. It won’t be cheap. But what’s the alternative? Looking at this ugly space or replacing it with something fantastic when I’m done with it.”

  “No argument there. Let’s do it.”

  “Great. I have time this week to get started. And before you ask, it should take three weeks to get the job done. Using the backhoe and jackhammer will be ear-splitting for the first three days. So you might want to arrange to stay somewhere else. And if the weather holds, which it should, I should be able to get the raised beds in by the end of next week. After that, it’s just getting the plants in the ground and you’re all set.”

  “You make it sound so easy,” Marley noted. “But then you know what you’re doing.”

  “Could be a decent DIY project if not for the asphalt.”

  “It’s better if you take care of all that,” Gideon said. “I want to be able to look out my kitchen window and see thriving plants instead of ugly pavement.”

  After Caleb left, Marley tilted her head to look up at Gideon. Looping an arm through his, she spun toward the house. “What kind of day did you have?”

  “Busy.” He didn’t mention he’d had to pump Bette Magnuson’s stomach after an overdose on half a bottle of amitriptyline. Nor did he mention worrying about the woman who was still lying in a hospital bed. He couldn’t help wondering if Bette would seek out the help she needed and not try it again.

  But he couldn’t fool Marley.

  “You’re preoccupied. Is it a patient?”

  “Yeah. But I can’t talk about it.”

  “I understand.”

  And it was those two words that had him feeling more connected to her than anyone else he’d ever been with. Because she did get it, he appreciated the way she didn’t goad him into revealing patient details.

  “I invited Quentin and Sydney over for dinner Friday night. I hope that’s all right.”

  A little bump of nervousness landed in her belly. But she ignored the wave of anxiety and went with humor instead. “Just like a man, ask after the deed’s been done. It’s fine. I should have my rooms arranged if we want to eat at my house. Although I’m not sure I’d have everything unpacked. But I could just shove what boxes I haven’t unpacked into another room. For company, I’d want the house to look nice or as nice as possible.”

  “It’s just Quentin and Sydney. They’re two of the most down to earth people you’ll ever be around. They’re not fussy about stuff like that. So, if you want to eat at your place, that’s fine with me.”

  “I think I’d like to see if I could pull it off. Get my house in order, plan a meal, have guests over like a normal person.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you? You’re as normal as anyone else around here.”

  She ran a hand down his jawline. “You just like me for my body.”

  He yanked her into him so he could nibble an ear. “That most of all.” When Barkley tried to get between them, Gideon nudged the animal to the side and snapped his fingers. “Uh-uh. You’ve had her to yourself all day. Now it’s my turn.”

  Not used to sharing, Barkley whined but plopped his butt onto the ground.

  “Did you teach him that?” Gideon asked.

  “Yup. He’s a good dog, aren’t you, Barkley?”

  But Barkley saw his opportunity and jumped up on both of them, almost knocking them back a step.

  “No, Barkley. Down,” Marley shouted. “Okay, so he’s not there yet,” she began
, giggling. “But give me time and he’ll sport some proper manners.”

  The look on Gideon’s face said he was skeptical. “If you say so. But I didn’t know you were a magician.”

  “Oh, ye of little faith. We’ll show them, won’t we, Barkley?”

  The dog woofed and jumped up to lick her face.

  Fifteen

  The moving van showed up a little after nine the next morning, pulling into the long driveway and then pulling out the ramp.

  The entire process was chaotic but exciting to get her first look at all the familiar things she hadn’t seen since selling her own house and selling the contents of the farm.

  She’d held onto keepsakes, of course, photo albums, a set of china her mother had used, and special mementos from her childhood. She’d kept her dad’s set of almanacs and encyclopedias that he loved and certain books they’d read together. It was all here for her to enjoy in a new place.

  Her leather sectional looked different in the living room than it had back home. But this was home now, not the prairie-style house she’d lived in with her children. She’d make do with her farmhouse dining table and the rest of her mismatched furniture.

  She’d been holding it together just fine until she spotted the movers unloading and bringing in Leo’s bedroom furniture, a bed and matching dresser in navy blue.

  As tears trickled down her cheeks, her chest felt like it caved in. The men were asking which room to take the stuff, and she could only point upward to the second floor.

  “Which room upstairs?” the mover demanded.

  She stood frozen to the floor, unable to tell them.

  Somewhere behind the two men, came a familiar voice that spoke up. “The second one on the right will do fine.”

  She glanced up to see Gideon standing in the doorway. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” It had occurred to him this might happen. That’s why he’d showed up, thinking she might need a little support. “Want me to direct traffic?”

  All she could do was nod.

  She’d disappeared after that. When he went looking for her after the movers had finished up, he found her sitting underneath the oak tree with Barkley’s head in her lap. The tears had dried up, and she’d pulled herself together enough to smile at him.