by Debbie Burns
“Or?” Kelsey asked. Patrick clearly had a point to this. He just wasn’t making it clear to her.
“It seems to me there’s a reason he has no interest in connecting with us. Or any interest in teaming up with any of the other dogs. He doesn’t show it often, but he’s well trained. He’s unhappy and unsettled. And he lets that be known. Affection and praise are lost on him, but that doesn’t mean he’s never received it.”
Kelsey watched as Patrick sank to a squat, balancing on the balls of his feet. Although she wasn’t afraid of the cantankerous, massive animal, she felt enough caution around him that her back muscles tensed. With Patrick in a squat, it was obvious that Devil nearly matched him pound for pound.
Patrick extended his right hand. “Shake.” When Devil made no movement to acknowledge him, Patrick slipped a single, moist treat from his pocket and held it in his left hand. Devil took a whiff but ignored Patrick otherwise. “Shake, boy,” he repeated.
Almost absentmindedly, with his sharp brown eyes still fixed on the gate, Devil lifted his giant paw and dropped it into Patrick’s hand.
Patrick shook the paw, then lifted the treat within swiping distance of Devil’s quick tongue. “Good boy. Good, good boy.” Then, standing and directing his next words to Kelsey, Patrick said, “I don’t have the answer, but nothing about him fits. The music. The tricks. His discontent. He’s waiting for someone, and I want to find out who.”
“Someone who likes bluegrass?”
“Possibly.”
Devil’s microchip had never been registered and the vet who inserted it didn’t have his owner’s new contact information. Finding out who had owned this guy felt like an impossibility, but Kelsey did her best to never say never. In her seven years at the shelter, she’d seen the impossible happen more than once.
* * *
Thanks to the wind picking up and carrying the smell of rain, as soon as Kurt’s grandfather left, he and Kelsey dove into the evening feeding routine. If she’d been put out that he’d named the cranky giant Devil, she hadn’t commented. The tenacious dog was promising to give Kurt a run for his money when it came to retraining him. Thankfully, it looked like Patrick was going to be a huge help in figuring out the complicated animal.
Unlike the relaxed conversation he’d enjoyed with Kelsey this afternoon, tonight they worked in silence. Yesterday, she’d commented playfully that Kurt’s vocabulary all but eluded him while he was intently focused on the dogs. “I swear I can almost see the right side of your brain taking over,” she’d joked.
He hoped she attributed his quiet to that this afternoon. He tried to hone his usual focus, but it evaded him. He kept replaying his grandfather’s words, rehashing what he hadn’t been prepared to hear. Thankfully, he and Kelsey had worked out a seamless routine over the last several days, and she always seemed on top of her game.
They had finished feeding and giving each dog a short walk around the side of the house when the first crack of thunder rumbled across the sky. Zeus, the newly named Argentine mastiff, and Pepper were still in the runs, having a turn to stretch their legs. Zeus was barking and chasing every leaf that blew inside his fence. The Argentine mastiff’s all-white coat looked especially bright under the darkening skies. Pepper was standing at the gate of her run. She wanted to roam the yard, and probably to hang near Kurt and Kelsey, but Kurt wasn’t in the space today to introduce two dogs, even through a fence. And when he did, he wouldn’t start with a pregnant Rottweiler. He was positive by now that she was. Just a few days of good meals, and her belly was visibly rounding out.
As far as Zeus went, Kurt would put money down that the dog had never been fought. His tail wagged too damn much when other dogs passed his kennel. Tomorrow, Kelsey was going to bring Orzo, a laid-back corgi, and if Zeus did well, Kurt would step up his socializing, including taking him on walks off the property. A few of the other dogs seemed ready for the same thing. If the court order was no longer in place, Kurt was starting to feel hopeful that within a month, at least five or six in the group would be headed for the shelter. He suspected the rest would take a while longer. A part of him worried that a few, like Devil, might never be ready to live as a pet in someone’s home. There were options for dogs like this, but Kurt wasn’t ready to spend time thinking of them. For now, he was committed to optimism.
To accomplish this, he’d turned one of the bedrooms into a private training room, and whenever things were slow, he’d head in there with one of the dogs. Instilling basic training in these animals was essential, and it went so much deeper than sit or stay. But he was becoming confident they’d get there.
A brilliant flash of lightning danced across the sky. Kurt could feel the electricity in the air, circling over his bare arms and neck. “I think it’s time we get them in.”
“Agreed.” Kelsey set a fresh bowl of water in Pepper’s kennel and followed Kurt down the back porch into the yard. Seeing them headed his way, Zeus made a move that looked an awful lot like a bucking bronco, then plunged toward the door of his run. The gangly dog skidded into seated attention, stopping just shy of slamming into the door.
Kelsey laughed. “I can almost imagine him finding his place in a circus.” She headed for Pepper’s run but waited for Kurt to head inside first with Zeus.
She was latching Pepper’s kennel door when Kurt stepped out of the house and joined her in the enclosed half of the porch.
“I’ve been a fan of thunderstorms since I was a kid, and I can confidently say that I don’t ever again want to live too long in a place that doesn’t get its fair share.”
“Where were you stationed?” Kelsey asked, joining him in front of the floor-to-ceiling screen.
The wind was picking up, and he could hear the rain pelting in the west. In the distance, he spotted the deluge headed their way. “Look, you can see the rain rolling in.” He fell quiet, watching it rush toward them at an angle. “Afghanistan mostly,” he said finally, responding to her question. “Texas with the army at first. I finished out in Central America. There, most of the time it’s like the rains are ruled by a light switch. It’s either raining heavily, or it isn’t but feels like it just did.”
“It would be cool to see more of the world, but I agree about thunderstorms. I’m a sucker for changing seasons.” A fresh blast of wind circled across the porch, lifting Kelsey’s hair off her shoulders. She shuddered. “I hope Mr. Longtail found his way inside.”
“I just saw him. He’s sprawled across the kitchen counter.” Unfazed by the storm, Pepper was curling into a ball to sleep. Her kennel was far enough from the screen to stay dry.
The circling winds stirred up Kelsey’s citrus-mint scent. Kurt resisted the urge to pull her close and breathe her in until he was sufficiently calm inside. Instead, he tucked his hands into his back pockets, palms facing out.
“So,” she said while he was still trying to block out her intoxicating smell, “I may not have known you long, but I’d bet a million dollars that you’re not the gabby type. However, I want you to know that I’m here if it would help to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you.”
Kurt pulled his attention from the storm to look at her. It had been a long time since he’d met someone who could read him so easily. It had also been a long time since he’d brushed his lips against lips like hers, full and sexy and moist. And those eyes. They were the rich, soft brown of amber and just as inviting, and the lashes framing them were thick and long and sultry.
He swallowed hard. The energy of the storm matched the energy building inside him. Rain and bits of hail began to hammer the roof. The pretend box deep inside him where he locked things away seemed to have the lid stuck open. He realized it was kiss her or tell her everything, or quite possibly both. Coming here, he’d been so damned committed to keeping her at a distance. Could that possibly have been less than a week ago?
Dragging a hand through his hair and puttin
g some necessary distance between them, he strode the length of the porch. When he returned, he made sure to stop a full arm’s length away.
“Turns out my mother went in for her first ever mammogram a month ago. They found a lump. Apparently not a nasty one, at least,” he added at Kelsey’s gasp. “She and my grandfather have spent the last few weeks working out a plan. They’d decided on doing the treatments here in St. Louis even before I took this job. The only really good hospital down at the post is military and, not having been in service herself, my mother doesn’t have access to it.”
A flash of lightning lit the darkened porch, and a clap of thunder filled his ears. Kelsey folded her arms across her chest. Kurt got the feeling she wanted to touch him as much as a part of him wanted her to.
“I never would have guessed,” she said when the thunder quieted. The rain was coming in slanted, forcing them both to step back from the screen. “She looked so happy this morning. That’s good though, right? You said it’s not one of the bad types. Maybe she’s not that worried.”
“My mother’s never been one to worry about anything. Or at least she’s never been one to show it. It’s my grandfather who’s taking it hard, even if he denies it. I guess you wouldn’t expect any different, considering he lost his wife a couple months ago.”
Kelsey nodded sympathetically and folded her arms tighter over her chest after a strong blast of cold wind swept across the porch. “I don’t know if it helps, but several of our shelter volunteers are breast cancer survivors. I walk with them every summer in a breast-cancer-awareness walk downtown. I’m not trying to downplay it, but from what they say, massive strides have been made in breast cancer recovery the last ten or fifteen years. Where’s she getting treatment?”
“Siteman Cancer Center. Based on the conversation with the surgeon this morning, they’ve decided not to go through with a full mastectomy. Ten years ago, it probably would have been recommended. From what my grandfather said, a whole team of people made the recommendation, but today she only saw the surgeon. He recommended she have a lumpectomy followed by radiation. Based on the biopsy, it looks like she won’t need chemo. Thank God she won’t have to deal with that.”
Overhead, the rain that had been pounding on the roof of the porch abruptly slowed to gentle tapping, and the wind dropped as brusquely as it had begun.
“It’s not exactly the Hyatt, but now that you’ve fixed the stairs, the bedrooms are easily accessible,” Kelsey said. “If they don’t want to deal with that drive while she’s recuperating, I can ask Megan if it’d be okay if they stay here.”
“Thanks for the offer. They’re talking about renting a place close to the hospital, which would suit her better. As cool as she thought the house was, she freaks if she spots a spider indoors.” He shrugged, shaking his head. “I’m not kidding. It’s her thing. But don’t be surprised if my grandfather makes himself useful around here.”
“Then he’s good with dogs too?”
Kurt let out a small laugh. “No, for a reason I’ve never figured out, he’s kind of anti-pet. I meant with the house. He always says if he hadn’t stayed in the army, he’d have become a carpenter. He joined Habitat for Humanity when I was in high school because he’d run out of things to repair in our house. He’d have a heyday here.”
“Well, he certainly couldn’t hurt anything if you want to give him that tool belt of yours and free range of the house.”
“No, he couldn’t, could he?”
“It’d probably be good for him too, considering…” Kelsey said, her voice trailing off as she looked out to the west where the cloud cover was thinning and the setting sun was poking through. “Seems like it’s clearing. And we’re ahead of schedule. Maybe we could take an hour or two off. The dogs will be good for a while. Earlier, you said your trips with your family to St. Louis were mostly limited to the Arch, the zoo, and the City Museum. Those are amazing, of course, but there’s so much more to show you. We’re a city of fantastic little neighborhoods like this one here in South City. I could give you a tour of the area, and we could grab something to eat afterward.”
It was probably because of what he’d just shared, but she was offering to spend a considerable amount of time with him. Without the dogs. He needed to say no and send her home. Give her a night off. He could get lost in the dogs and the one-on-one training each one needed. If he accepted her offer, he’d be letting her in even more when he’d promised himself he wouldn’t. He was searching for a polite way to say no when an insanely close blast of lightning struck, reminding him that some of the biggest strikes were often at the tail end of a storm. Before the flash of brilliant white dissipated, the kitchen and hall lights visible through the windows went out simultaneously.
He huffed. “I guess there’s no working with the dogs in the dark, is there?” he said when the accompanying boom quieted.
“No, but with any luck, Hodak’s won’t have lost power. Since I’ve absolutely blown my diet this week, I might as well introduce you to the place. It’s the best fried chicken in the city, and it’s within walking distance.”
Kurt smiled, feeling the tension he’d been holding in since talking to his grandfather start to lift. “Somehow, you’re reading my mind. Fried chicken and thunderstorms were two of my biggest must-haves on coming home.”
She waved him off, smiling playfully. “You’re from the Midwest. Chances are slim that fried chicken wouldn’t be high on your list.”
“Probably so. Hey, I know it’s your tour and all, but are you good with taking the Mustang?”
Kelsey clicked her tongue. “This is going to be a walking tour, Staff Sergeant Crawford.”
“What happens if it storms again?”
She shrugged. “Then you’ll have to find us suitable cover. All those years of service, I’m betting you’re a real-life MacGyver. That was duct tape you were using earlier, after all.”
He laughed and savored the warmth filling him. “Watch it, or I’ll strap on that tool belt before we go.”
Chapter 14
“So, how exactly do you define ‘walking distance’?” Kurt asked after they’d been walking for about thirty minutes.
Kelsey was pointing out interesting shops and popular taverns he might enjoy while staying at the Raven estate. The while part was a bit of a downer for her. He and the dogs and the house had become such a sudden but immense part of her life that it would be strange to swing by the quiet, empty house to feed a cat who’d probably be crankier than ever when Kurt was gone. And strange wasn’t the right word for it. It would be downright sad.
“Without the detours we’re taking, it’s about a mile and a half,” she answered. “I’m guessing with them, it’ll be about double that. You aren’t getting tired, are you? When you go to Hodak’s, it’s important you’re sufficiently hungry.”
“Trust me. I’ll be sufficiently hungry.”
She brushed her fingers over his triceps before thinking about it. “One more detour, but trust me, it’s worth it. This one is the best of all. I’m hoping it won’t be too dark to see it.”
He followed her down a side street without comment.
It had taken him less than three minutes, but he’d jogged upstairs before leaving and come down in a black V-neck long-sleeved shirt, perfectly molded blue jeans, and a pair of understated cowboy boots. Considering the short time he was upstairs, he couldn’t have done more than finger comb his thick, brown hair. It was just messy enough without being unkempt, and Kelsey could easily imagine slipping her hands into it.
She was super thankful she’d still had a basic faux-cashmere sweater in her trunk from a planned family dinner she opted out of the other night when things took longer than expected at the Raven estate. Not only was it considerably cooler now that the short storm had blown through, but she’d been told more than once the snug-fitting lilac sweater looked great on her. She’d also ditched her ten
nis shoes for the pair of comfortable, tall leather boots she’d had in the trunk.
“Here,” she said a few minutes later.
Kurt seemed skeptical as he took in the narrow but deep empty lot they’d stopped in front of. It was sandwiched between an antebellum home in the process of being renovated and a single-room brick house with the windows boarded up. Dusk was setting in heavily, making the edges of the lot hard to distinguish. The streetlights were kicking on, but none were close enough to really light up the area.
“Let me guess,” he said. “You’re hoping to turn it into a dog park for dogs who don’t play well with others?”
Kelsey giggled. “I don’t think I could get a permit for that if I tried. I thought you’d like to know that we’re standing in front of what’s believed to be an Underground Railroad site.”
Kurt raised an eyebrow. “Really? Cool.”
“Like about everything around here, this story ties to the caves that spiderweb through this part of the city. The house that used to be here had a tunnel hidden under the back porch that connected to caves leading to the Mississippi River. The river’s less than half a mile that way as the crow flies. If you believe the old stories, escaped slaves would hide in a now-demolished graveyard down the street until one of the German abolitionists who owned the home came and got them under the cover of darkness. After feeding them a good meal, they’d send the escaped slaves on their way through the caves to the river. From there, they headed north. Unfortunately, the house was torn down by the city before it was officially registered, but there’ve been a few archeological digs here since. Several archeologists believe the artifacts they found here prove it was part of the Underground Railroad.”
Kurt rocked back on the heels of his boots as he surveyed the area. “That’s freaking awesome.”
