Forever Wild

by Allyson Charles

  Dax smiled, and the warmth she felt in her cheeks spread throughout her body. “You go ahead,” he said. “I’ll take care of the dogs and meet you inside.”

  “Are you sure?” She craned her head and looked toward the gatehouse. The parking lot was empty except for two other vehicles. The gardens would be nearly deserted. Just her and her sketch pad and a roast beef sandwich.

  Dax swung the doors open and greeted the dogs. A barrage of barking knocked Lissa back on her heels. “I’m sure,” he said. Placing one hand on the floor of the van, he hopped inside in one smooth leap. He gathered up the leashes. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this. Go get some food inside you.”

  “Thanks!” She trotted to the front gate and paid the entrance fee.

  The elderly ticket taker informed her that the gardens were maintained by the local horticultural society. She pressed a glossy brochure into Lissa’s hand along with her ticket. “Enjoy, honey.”

  Lissa nodded and ducked her head to step under the low arch of the entrance.

  The temperature dropped as if she’d stepped into a refrigerator as she took three steps down to the garden proper. Her mouth dropped right along with it as she tried to take it all in. Along the walls, thick slabs of limestone jutted out at varying levels, vines trailing off the ledges. Raised beds dotted the gardens, overflowing with ferns and brightly colored flowers. The air was fragrant and sweet, and she inhaled deeply, feeling like Eve in Eden.

  She wanted to stay there forever.

  Lissa strolled under one of the outcroppings, brushing a tendril of ivy from her cheek. She pressed a hand against the chilled stone wall and felt her heartbeat slow.

  Heaven. It reminded her a bit of the courtyards of New Orleans. Verdant wildness restrained by artistic vision. She forgot her grumbling stomach and looked for the best vantage point.

  On the far side of the garden, she hopped over a burbling stream and climbed the incline until she hit the wall. She turned and found the view she wanted. But not the perfect angle. Frowning, she sidestepped. Nope. Using her hands to frame the setting, she backed up until her pack hit a ledge. Still not a high-enough vantage point.

  She glanced at the limestone slabs next to her. Four of them jutted out from the wall at increasing heights, Almost like a staircase for a giant. Tossing her bag on to the first outcropping, she placed her hands on the waist-high rough stone and hopped onto the ledge. Careful to avoid the ferns planted on top of the dirt-covered stone, she repeated the process with the next ledge, picking her way up until she reached the top.

  She found a spot near where the outcropping met the wall, gently brushed the trailing vine of a black-eyed Susan aside, and sank to a cross-legged position. She looked over the garden, her artist’s heart tripping. She could see the patterns of the raised boxes and pathways clearly from this height. The colors of the plants were coordinated, with deep purples limning the garden walls, fading to blues, then pinks. The heart of the garden was bursting with crimson. Time had faded the lines between the color blocks, stray red plants encroaching in the pinks, the blues intruding on the purples, and Lissa loved that the flowers didn’t want to stay in their designated boxes.

  She pulled a small sketch pad from her bag, along with some charcoal, and got to work. Her hand flew over the page and filled it up, and she flipped to a new sheet. Another section of the garden came to life. When she got to this Pineville, she’d have to find a good art supply store. She usually worked in oils, but this garden called for watercolors.

  She became so engrossed in her work that she didn’t see Dax until he was right below her.

  “What are you doing up there?” he asked. The Bluetick strained at the leash Dax held, whining softly and pawing at the soft earth.

  “Sketching.” She sank back against the wall, a delicious chill soaking through her shirt. “This place is amazing. I’m so happy we stopped here instead of the giant knitting needles.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m glad you like it, but I don’t think you’re supposed to be up there. Come down. It isn’t safe.”

  Lissa shook her head but couldn’t keep her lips from tipping up. He really was adorable when he went into grumpy-grandpa mode. “Lighten up, old man. These ledges are rock steady. You should come up and join me. The view is beautiful.”

  “Those ledges were meant to support the weight of plants, not a human body.” He wrapped the leash around his wrist and held his arms up. “Now toss me your bag and come down. Carefully.”

  Lissa turned back to her sketches. “Not going to happen. I’ll come down after you’ve walked all the other dogs and we need to go.”

  “I’ve already walked the other dogs.” Dax untangled the leash from around his ankles and told the Bluetick to sit. The dog ignored him and nosed around a begonia. “But this guy put up an unholy racket when I tried to put him back in his cage.”

  “Some animals aren’t meant to be caged. Freedom is everything.”

  The dog leaped for the first ledge, jerking Dax a step forward. Dax pulled on the leash, dragging the dog away. “Now you sound like William Wallace. You and this dog make quite a pair.”

  She tilted her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m happy to sound like a freedom fighter. And you shouldn’t sound so dismissive of one of your ancestors.” She thought about the movie she’d seen as a kid, imagined Dax with his face painted blue and wearing nothing but a kilt, and a smile spread across her face. It would have been a good look on him.

  The Bluetick faced Dax, lowering his head and backing up as much as the leash would allow.

  “Oh, come on,” she said. “Let William come up and play with me.” She patted her thigh and whistled. “Come on, boy. Come join your fellow rebel.”

  Dax gripped the back of his neck with one hand. “You shouldn’t even be up there. There’s definitely no way I’m letting—”

  The dog’s head popped free from his collar. With a triumphant yelp, he turned and sprinted for the ledge. The Bluetick hopped up onto the first step, spraying dirt against the wall, and bounded up to where Lissa sat.

  She rubbed his head. “Good boy, William.” Looking down, she met Dax’s glare. “See? No harm, no foul. You have to learn to lighten up.”

  William sniffed around her spot, then leaped onto the narrow top of the garden wall. His nails scrabbled. He almost fell to the ground below before catching his balance.

  “Oh no!” Lissa tossed her pad and pencils down and jumped to her feet. She reached for the dog, but he darted away.

  The wall was barely the width of the dog’s body, much too narrow to be running along. “Dax!” she called.

  Dax ran to the lowest ledge and leaped onto it in one smooth leap. He jumped for the next step, landed on it with one foot, and sprang off, twisting his body to grab the top of the wall and haul himself up. “Stay here,” he told Lissa and headed after William, walking the wall like a balance beam.

  Lissa’s jaw dropped. Whoa. He’d climbed that wall like a large cat scaling a tree. His feet had barely touched the ground. She swallowed. It had been hot as hell.

  She shook off the tingling sensation. The dog getting away might have partly been her fault. She couldn’t leave Dax to chase William all on his own. She raised a knee to the top of the wall and climbed up. Staying in a crouch, she looked up to see where Dax and William were.

  Dax was at the corner of the garden, one hand gripping the scruff at the top of William’s neck. He called down to someone in the same type of gray shirt the ticket taker had been wearing. Presumably apologizing to an employee for running about on the wall.

  A black Cadillac Escalade pulled off the road onto the dirt parking lot, a trail of dust in its wake. Lissa squinted. The car looked familiar.

  She sucked in a breath and rolled off the wall onto the ledge next to her pack. Oh. Crap. She peered over the limestone blocks.
Two men climbed out of the car. One was holding his phone up to look at the screen. He pointed toward the garden, and they started walking for the entrance.

  Lissa shoved her pad and pencils in her bag and clutched the pack to her stomach. The rectangular lumps of cash pressed against her thudding heart. Dax was heading back her way, leading William behind him, and Lissa jumped down from ledge to ledge until her feet hit the ground.

  “Come on,” she shouted up to Dax. “Daylight’s burning. We’d better hit the road.”

  “Now you’re in a hurry?” He hopped down to the highest ledge, William a step behind. “Hey, throw up the leash and collar, would you?”

  Lissa found it on the ground and swung an end up into Dax’s waiting hand. “We still have a couple of hours left until Pineville, right?” She glanced over her shoulder, thankful for the huge fern hiding her from view. “Besides, I’m getting hungry.”

  “Again?” Dax tightened the collar around William’s neck and led him down to the next ledge. “You just ate.”

  Oh. Yeah. She hadn’t eaten her sandwich, but if she admitted that, he’d probably want to picnic right there. “Well, then, I want some dessert.” She grabbed William’s leash when they jumped to the ground. Hefting her pack higher on her shoulder, she hurried to an intersecting path and slowed to peer around the corner of a small palm tree. A black pant leg disappeared down a path heading in another direction. “Let’s go,” she said in a hushed voice.

  “Why are you whispering?” Dax asked in his own whisper.

  “No reason.” She darted across the head of another path and jogged toward the exit. “The garden just seems to call for a quiet voice.”

  “Hmm.”

  She trotted up the stairs and out of the low archway, waving goodbye to the woman in the booth. Running across the parking lot, she looked once more over her shoulder. Aside from Dax bringing up the rear, no one was coming after her. She tugged on her door handle, but it was locked.

  “Let me just put the dog in the back and we’ll head out.” Dax pointed his key fob and unlocked the doors.

  She pulled a side door open, and William jumped into the seat. “I think he wants to sit up front with us.” And it would get them out of there that much sooner. She climbed in behind him, prodding the dog until he made room for her. She slammed the door closed and slunk down in her seat.

  Dax frowned but circled to the driver’s side. He climbed in and stared at them. “The other dogs will get jealous.”

  “The other dogs don’t have the same independent spirit.” She looked from the key dangling from his fingers to the ignition and back. “Can we go now?”

  “As soon as you put on your seat belt.”

  Lissa muttered a curse but did as he said. “Safety first with you, right?”

  Dax shrugged and put the van into gear. They bumped across the lot until they hit the smooth pavement of the road. He backtracked the way they’d come, heading for the interstate.

  She checked her side mirror, but no one came tearing after them. Her muscles slowly began to unwind.

  How the heck had they found her? She hadn’t told anyone where she was going. Hell, she didn’t even really know where she was going. Yet Morris’s goons had tracked her. She pulled her phone from her pack and stared at it forlornly. It was the only connection to Morris she could think of. She sighed. It had taken so many beautiful pictures of her art, but all good things had to come to an end.

  Rolling down the window, she nonchalantly hooked her elbow over the edge and draped her hand outside. When they hit the interstate, she uncurled her fingers. The roar of the freeway muffled any sound of its destruction. She rolled the window back up.

  William circled in the middle seat, trying to find a comfortable spot. Dax ruffled his ears, his long, tapered fingers disappearing into the dog’s fur. Those fingers were so gentle with the dog but had pulled his body weight up like it was nothing. She pulled her sketch pad back out.

  “Speaking of safety, scaling a wall and running along the top of it probably won’t earn you the safety merit badge. You do have great balance, though.” She sketched the outline of his hand on the wheel, focusing on the ridges of his knuckles. A white scar was etched across his index finger.

  “It’s my job.” He turned the radio down a notch. “I take people rock climbing, off-trail hiking, rafting through class-five rapids. For me, it wasn’t dangerous. But for William here, it could have been.”

  She smiled at his use of the dog’s new name. “He was fine.” She scratched the dog’s chin and cooed at him.

  “Because we got lucky.” Dax shook his head. “But you shouldn’t have called him up to you. You can risk your own neck climbing where you don’t belong, but you shouldn’t bring an innocent animal into the situation.”

  She stopped drawing. “Wait. You’re blaming me? Not that I think there was any danger, but you were the one who didn’t secure William properly. I don’t see why that was my fault.”

  “Do you take any responsibility for your actions?” He glanced at the backpack at her feet. “You seem to flit through life as if there are no consequences to what you do. A person can get hurt that way.”

  Resting her elbow on the window frame, she propped her head in her hand. “Who hurt you?” she asked lightly. “You’re way too young to be this serious. Life is about having fun. Exploring. Creating. If you follow all the rules, you’ll never climb out of the box society wants to keep you in.”

  He gripped the wheel. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but rules exist for a reason.”

  “I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree.” She punched him lightly on the shoulder. “But I’m not giving up on you yet. I’ll get you to let loose before it’s all over.” Dropping her head, she continued shading in the sketch of his hand.

  She almost missed Dax’s muttered words. “God help us all.”

  A grin spread across her face, but thinking Dax wouldn’t appreciate it, she let her hair hang down to block it from view.

  Chapter 4

  Dax waited until he heard the click of the dead bolt being thrown before releasing a deep breath. Finally. His responsibility to the little stowaway was over. She was safe and secure in a motel in Pineville, one that had a safe, and she was no longer his concern.

  The curtain of the window next to the door flew open. Lissa smiled out at him and waggled her fingers. Then she stretched, full-bodied, her mouth opening in a silent yawn. The garish Elvis T-shirt she’d changed into slid up to reveal a cute button of a navel and the shadows under her lowest ribs.

  Dax’s mouth went dry. He turned and hustled for the van. No good could come of his thoughts. That woman was not for him. He hopped into the driver’s seat, and the Bluetick pounced, butting Dax’s chin with his nose and whining for attention.

  Dax chuckled and devoted a minute to giving the dog some love. “You weren’t meant for road trips, were you, William? You just want to run free.” A sentiment Dax could understand. He flipped down his visor and stared at the picture of the Off-Road Adventures van in the faint light of a streetlamp. Being his own boss. Choosing which tours to run himself, what new territory to explore. It was everything he could hope for.

  He checked his phone for the fourth time. Mr. Cooke’s message still read the same. His meeting was rescheduled for next week. Dax ran a hand through his hair. He’d been hoping to get an appointment for tomorrow, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. He was lucky the loan officer had still agreed to see him.

  William whined in his ear.

  “Okay, boy, let’s go home.” Dax prodded William into the passenger seat and started the van. “Or at least your home until someone adopts you.”

  The drive to the shelter only took fifteen minutes. The streets were mostly empty that late at night, especially when Dax hit Route 9, the road that connected Pineville to Clarion Township. The highway was black a
s pitch until the moon came out from behind a cloud. Dax drove through a copse of fir trees before the road opened up to wind between cornfields. The farmland ended and the land beside the highway was just starting to change into woods again when his headlights lit up the sign for Forever Friends.

  The shelter was located in an unincorporated area between the two towns. It sat on a thirty-acre lot, bounded by the Blue Haven River at the back edge of the property. The shelter itself was converted from an abandoned mill and the whole kit and kaboodle had been donated for the shelter’s use by a very generous woman who just happened to be dating the Forever Friend’s veterinarian. Dax couldn’t think of a space that could be more perfect for the rescued dogs.

  Turning into the driveway, Dax ignored the parking lot at the front for visitors and headed around back. He wasn’t surprised to see the lights in both the office and the infirmary still on.

  He’d snapped on the first dog’s leash when the back door swung open.

  “’Bout time you got here.” Gabe, the shelter’s vet, stepped out, shrugging into a windbreaker. “You drove slow enough to be driving Miss Daisy.”

  “Really? Clichés from the eighties? I thought I’d taught you better.” Dax handed the man a leash and reached for another dog. “Besides, I told you not to wait. None of the dogs need medical attention.”

  Gabe snorted. “Yeah, like I’d let you be the judge of that.” He scooped up the corgi and tucked her into his chest. The dog sniffed Gabe’s dark-stubbled jaw, licked him once, then curled into the vet’s arms with a delighted sigh. If the corgi could have purred, she would have. Gabe had that effect on dogs.

  Which Dax didn’t understand, because Gabe usually had the opposite effect on humans.

  “Don’t mind him.” Brad, the owner of Forever Friends, stepped onto the back drive. The floodlight at the rear door reflected off his blond hair. “Gabe would have been here no matter your arrival time. With Marla and the dogs out of the house, Gabe was lonely.” Brad knelt and said hello to three more pups Dax had leashed up, rubbing their heads and cooing softly.