by Debbie Burns
“I know you had your own color code with those stickies you used at the warehouse,” he said, crossing his arms and making his biceps stand out even more in his tight, gray T-shirt. “But I thought green, yellow, and red were more universal. And this is for the volunteers who’ll be coming in too. The Doberman was one of the few who got a green, because he’s so obedient. I’m not sure he’ll be able to be placed in a home with another dog, considering all the ring time he’s had, but I think he’d roll over for a toddler who asked him to.”
Kelsey had named the Doberman Lucky because, at nine years old, not only was he the oldest dog here, but she wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been in more fights than most of the other dogs combined. He had the faded scars to prove it. “And you gave him a label of beta because he’s not as macho-acting as some of the others?” she clarified.
“Pretty much. Their pack order will either be alpha, beta, or omega. I won’t confuse things by breaking it down any further. Betas, you probably know, are the least likely to give us trouble. Alphas might well test us, and omegas may act unpredictably if they feel a lot of stress.”
“That makes sense. And why the number one?”
“We’ll have more betas than him obviously, so I gave them numbers. I started with him since we’ve been starting our rounds with him first.”
“Shouldn’t that be where his name comes in? It’s Lucky, if you forgot. If you tell me where the marker is, I can add it.”
“Kelsey,” Kurt said, stopping her by closing his hand over her elbow. “I didn’t forget that you want to call him Lucky, but this place is going to be full of volunteers who will be helping us out. And I get why you give all the shelter animals a name right away, but names instill a certain camaraderie and connection with an animal. When it comes to these guys, I’m not sure we should be promoting that right now. Everyone who’ll be working with them needs to keep alert and—”
“Wait a minute,” Kelsey interrupted, her emotions flaring. “Are you saying you don’t want these guys to have names? After all they’ve been through, you don’t think they deserve names?”
Kurt’s shoulders sank. “I’m not saying they don’t deserve names. They do, and we’ll get there. What I’m saying is that everyone who’ll be working closely with them needs to keep in mind these animals were trained to fight, and as a result, they’re unpredictable. The dogs need training and consistency over affection right now.”
Kelsey shook her head. She was starting to see red. So Pepper and Buddy and Lucky were just supposed to be numbers?
“No way. I’ve listened to you on everything, but not this. You have a way with dogs, and I can see that, but no way. They’re going to get names and they’re going to be transferred to the shelter, and sooner rather than later they’re going to be adopted into loving homes. All of them.” She was upset enough to tap him pointedly on the chest. “And if you’d let your heart do a little co-ruling with your I-have-everything-under-perfect-control mind, you’d get that.”
Both of his hands immediately closed over hers, lifting off the finger she’d pressed against his well-muscled pec. One by one, he spread her fingers apart, then pressed his thumbs against her palm as he splayed her hand flat. The skin-on-skin contact was disarming, pulling Kelsey away from her anger.
“I was a soldier in enemy territory for longer that I care to recount,” he said calmly and slowly. “I’ve lost far more buddies and dogs than fingers I’m touching. And I can confidently tell you that letting your mind rule you will do little other than psych you out. Let your heart rule, and you’ll never pick up the pieces as you fall apart.” In a smooth movement, he pressed her hand low and tight against his abdomen, right below his belly button. “The way to survive is listening right here. The little whispers that form here are right a million times more than they are wrong. And my gut is telling me that your helpful shelter volunteers—and you, for that matter—need to respect the fact that many of these dogs have fought others to the death. That isn’t something you can hug away, Kelsey.”
It took her three solid seconds to react, to process that her hand was in fact pressed against his phenomenal, rock-hard stomach. His brown eyes held her gaze. A part of her wondered if he was taunting her, pressing her hand against him like that. But the only emotion visible in those warm, brown eyes was concern.
She yanked her hand away and practically shook it in hopes of dissipating some of the unexpected heat surging through her. “That was inappropriate.” Um, you touched him first. “And besides,” she added, forcing her thoughts back to the dogs, “I’m not backing down on this. You can give them numbers if you’d like, but I’m giving them names. The volunteers and I will respect your rules while the dogs start learning their names.” She stopped and swallowed. Her mouth was uncomfortably dry. It hadn’t disappeared yet, the feeling of his washboard stomach against the flat of her hand. How long would she be able to recall it so precisely?
“The faucet’s still running,” she said into his steely silence. “I think you’ll be able to tell by now if the leak has been stopped.”
He headed for the kitchen without saying anything else, those deep lines of worry etching a V across his forehead once more. Still reeling, Kelsey squatted to the eye level of the Doberman and let him lick the back of her hand from the other side of the kennel door.
“How you doing this morning, Green-Beta-One?” she said quietly enough that Kurt wouldn’t overhear. “Yeah, it doesn’t do much for me either. With that sweet face, those old, faded scars, and those wizened-beyond-your-years gray hairs, you’re definitely a Lucky to me.”
* * *
It was on the tip of Kurt’s tongue, in hopes of lightening the mood, to say the fluffy-tailed three-year-old Akita he and Kelsey were working with reminded him of his mother. Maybe that was because the temperamental pup had an undeniable swagger, or maybe it was because the dog made it clear she only enjoyed being around males, not females. In any case, Kurt held the comment back. Bringing up his mother, and all her eccentricities, wasn’t what he wanted to do.
Two minutes later, when he heard a vehicle pulling into the circular driveway and looked out the nearest window to spy his grandfather’s emerald-green decade-old F-150 pickup, he was particularly thankful he hadn’t. There were two people in the cab: the first, his sinewy grandfather; the other, his curvy, vivacious mother.
“Ever notice how when things get off to the wrong start, it’s difficult to get back on track?” That came out before he knew he was going to say it.
Kelsey looked directly at him for the first time since they started working with the dogs twenty-five minutes ago. Her eyebrows knotted into little peaks. She’d noticed the truck too. “Protesters?”
“Worse,” he said, dragging a hand through his hair. “We could kick them back to the street and off the property. It’s my family.”
“Oh.” Still holding the Akita’s leash in one hand, Kelsey smoothed the front of her indigo-blue T-shirt. This one read You can’t buy love, but you can rescue it. She then pulled out the elastic band that had been holding her hair in a messy knot and finger combed through it. Kurt usually wasn’t one to notice hair, but hers was thick and wavy and an intoxicating honey blond. The few times he’d seen it down and loose, he’d been overwhelmed by the urge to lose his hands in it while he busied his mouth with that smooth skin of hers.
As he watched her primp, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. She wants to make a good impression.
She got the Akita back in her crate confidently and unhooked the leash. It was Kelsey’s first time doing the whole process with the dog without asking anything from Kurt except a bit of guidance.
“Nice job with her.”
“Thanks.” She joined him at the window as his mother stepped down out of the truck. Kelsey’s jaw dropped. “Your sister’s so beautiful.”
Sister. Kurt wasn’t surprised by this. Whenever
he and his mother were together, people who looked close enough to notice their resemblance assumed they were brother and sister. Others assumed they were a couple. Sara Crawford had sixteen years on him, but few would guess it was more than five or six.
Nothing short of typical, his mother was dressed in a flowing white shirt with a deep V in front and cutoff jean shorts with a belt complementing the western boots that drew attention to her sculpted legs.
Kurt cleared his throat, but the necessary clarification eluded him. Oh well. Kelsey would figure it out soon enough.
As soon as he opened the front door, his mother let out a coo. “Kurtis Crawford, you didn’t tell us you were working in a damn mansion. Look at this place.” She sprung up the steps and caught him in a bear hug.
He returned it, if a bit half-heartedly, wondering if his mother would ever remember that, like his grandfather, he enjoyed his personal space. Pulling away, he met his grandfather’s gaze. William offered a slight nod, and Kurt thought the word he mumbled was son.
“Oh my,” Sara said, spying Kelsey, who was hanging back a few feet. Reminding him once more of the Akita, his mother clicked her tongue. “You didn’t tell us you have company.”
“Actually, I did, if you remember,” Kurt said, motioning in Kelsey’s direction. “Kelsey, this is my grandfather, Colonel William Crawford, and my mother, Sara, also a Crawford. Guys, this is Kelsey Sutton. She works for the shelter that will be taking in these dogs once they’re rehabbed.”
“It’s great to meet you.” Kelsey’s smile seemed sincere.
“You too, you sweet thing. And aren’t you a brave one.” Sara wasted no time drawing Kelsey into a hug.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Kelsey said as they separated. “The dogs are all a lot more docile than you might think.”
Sara flashed the grin that had won her best smile in high school and had been commented on ever since. “I meant working in such close quarters with my son. If he doesn’t try your patience at least a fraction of what he did mine when he was growing up, you can call yourself lucky. His doctor said his ADHD was off the charts.”
Seriously? She’s going there in less than sixty seconds? Kurt shoved his hands in his back pockets, doing his best to shrug it off. Unlike the rest of their small family, his mother had always been one to tell everything just like she saw it. Nana had said a dozen times that she was a creature of God who’d been born without a filter.
Kelsey’s expression conveyed more camaraderie toward him than Kurt would have expected after the disagreement they’d had. “Well, if he does, I’ll try to keep in mind he’s the hardest working person I’ve met. And in all my years working with dogs, I’ve never seen anyone with his skills.”
Kurt looked sharply toward his grandfather, who was reaching out to shake Kelsey’s hand. One of his grandfather’s eyebrows peaked slightly in response to her praise. “Nice to meet you” was all that he said.
“I didn’t know you guys were coming.”
His grandfather pulled a phone from his pocket. “That’s kind of hard to know when you’re incommunicado.” He tossed the phone at Kurt, who caught it easily. Kurt was all but out of the technology loop, but the iPhone looked like a recent model.
“I’ve been meaning to get to a phone to call. It’s been a busy few days.”
“Your mom and I figured if you owned a cell, that might be easier to do.”
“You mean you’re giving this to me?”
“A bit selfishly, Kurtis.” Sara offered him a wink. “You’re going to need to use it to check in every so often. When you were overseas, there was always a number to call. Though Miss Kelsey here looks like she’ll be able to help us keep decent tabs on you.”
“Thanks,” he said, “but you didn’t need to do that. I’d have gotten around to getting one eventually.”
“It was your grandmother’s. It’s under contract awhile yet. She upgraded just a month or so before…” William fell silent and focused on the curving staircase instead of on them. “She didn’t have it long,” he finished.
Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt saw Kelsey chew her bottom lip, probably putting two and two together. He wondered if later, when they were alone, she’d ask questions. There was so much he’d love to tell her about Nana. Kelsey was the type of person who’d listen expertly, who’d genuinely want to hear about her. And maybe, somehow, make the whole mess a little bit better.
Adding how much his grandmother had meant to him to the fact that he’d all but missed the last eight years of her life hadn’t made her death easy to swallow. The desire to confess it all to Kelsey took him by surprise.
“I appreciate it.”
“We took it by the store yesterday,” Sara said. “It’s a new number, but I thought you might enjoy her pictures, so I had them put back on. There aren’t many.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” He sounded like a broken record, but at the moment, Kurt found himself as limited to clipped speech as his grandfather usually was.
He slipped the phone into his back pocket without examining it further. He wasn’t sure he could stay in control if he looked through Nana’s pictures. He’d save that for another time. “So, would you guys like a tour?”
William glanced at his watch. “A short one. Your mother has an appointment. I’d like to swing by later today, if you’re up for it.”
“What an amazing house,” Sara said, jamming her thumbs in the front pockets of her shorts and rocking back on the heels of her boots. “And you get to sleep here and everything until this job is finished? Both of you?”
Kelsey shook her head at Kurt’s yes, which was spoken over Sara’s last question. “Just Kurt. I have an apartment about five miles from here. Kurt didn’t know the house’s history when he took the job, but it has an interesting one.”
Just yesterday morning, Kelsey’s friendly and perfectly normal parents had come by to tour the house and meet the dogs. He couldn’t help but wonder what she thought upon seeing his unconventional mother and tight-lipped grandfather. She gave them a quick recap of how the house came to belong to the shelter, and included the bit about Ida Greene that they’d learned yesterday. “There’s some of her apple pie left in the kitchen,” Kelsey added. “It was fabulous.”
“Homemade apple pie,” Sara said, giving William a playful scratch on the chin. Kurt didn’t think there was another person on earth who could get away with that and not be put in their place. “If you’ve got hot coffee, the Colonel won’t be turning it down, will you, Pops?”
William stepped back half a foot and gave his watch another glance. “The truth is, I’ll enjoy it more this afternoon.” He gave Sara a deliberate glance. “We’re supposed to arrive early.”
“Where is it you’re headed?” Kurt asked for the second time.
“Your mother has an appointment.” William set his shoulders determinedly and somehow managed to stand a half inch straighter. Wherever the two of them were headed, Kurt understood his grandfather wasn’t ready to discuss it. This set Kurt’s thoughts churning; it must be something important to make them drive so far from home. But if there was anyone in Missouri more stubborn than William Crawford, Kurt had yet to meet them. The truth was, he wouldn’t learn their business until his grandfather was good and ready to share it.
Chapter 12
Kelsey blinked in surprise later that afternoon when she pulled into the circular drive of the Raven estate a mere fifteen minutes after leaving for a quick errand. Unlike last time, her surprise wasn’t caused by the protesters. After a few long, quiet days without getting any true attention, the group seemed to be taking a day off.
Her surprise was at finding Kurt twenty feet off the ground on an extension ladder leaned against the north side of the house. He had a tool belt slung loosely around those remarkable hips of his and was working on the frame of one of the second-story windows.
Grabbing the two bottles of IBC Root Beer and the bag of freshly baked pretzels she’d bought, Kelsey left her purse and keys in the car and made a mental note to grab them before going into the house.
So glad he waited for a spotter. She hadn’t even known they had an extension ladder. He’d probably found it while poking around in the garage at the back of the yard. The detached building was framed by cobwebs, and Kelsey had never done more than glance in the dirty windows. After learning from Ida yesterday that it had been built to be a carriage house and converted for cars in the forties, the old building had more appeal, though Kelsey was fine waiting until Kurt had scared away more critters before checking it out further. Not only was it likely chock-full of spiders, but a few months ago, on the first warm summer day, she’d noticed the largest black rat snake she’d ever seen sunning itself in front of the old carriage doors.
As she got closer to the side of the house where Kurt was working, she noticed Mr. Longtail milling around underneath the ladder and rubbing his cheek against its base. “Please, God, say that’s stable.”
Kurt smiled, his teeth gleaming white in contrast to the dark brick behind him. “With the stabilizer, it’s safer than if someone was down there holding it.”
“Let’s hope.” Kelsey shooed the cat out from underneath. “So, tell me, what little fire are we putting out now?”
“A storm’s coming, and the cracks around the side of this window are nearly big enough for a bird to fly through. It’s causing a mess in the front bedroom. The wall around the window is rotting, and the wooden floor underneath has water damage. Not only could we use a new window and frame here, but the brick needs tuck-pointing. For today, a bit of duct tape will do.”
Shifting the bag of pretzels and root beers precariously to one hand, Kelsey pulled her phone from her pocket and clicked open the weather app. He was right. There was a seventy percent chance of thunderstorms late this afternoon. “I was about to ask how you knew, isolated here as you’ve been, but then I remembered you’re now the proud owner of a smartphone.”
