Sit, Stay, Love

by Debbie Burns

  * * *

  Kurt wished that at least once over the last month he’d brought Tess up to Kelsey. But Tess had been in Europe and there’d never been a strong reason. She’d left her big Italian-American family behind in a huff and was working on a farm was all that Rob had shared with him. That and it was difficult to get in touch with her.

  Kurt had been knocking out rotted plaster by a leaky window and trying not to think about the envelope he’d left at his mom’s or the chaotic mess of nightmares he’d had last night, when out of nowhere Rob was texting him to come outside and check out the stray he’d picked up.

  He had no delusions that Kelsey might’ve missed their greeting, and he hated to guess what she’d thought. What she hadn’t heard was Tess’s muffled sob of “My grandpa died, and I wasn’t here to say goodbye.”

  Even knowing Tess so well, Kurt only had an inkling of the pain that must have caused her. Her family was tight knit, smothering as she’d often referred to them. He had no clue what had happened to make her run off. But he knew how it felt to be overseas and to lose one of the most important people in your world.

  Hell, that was probably why Rob had brought her over like this without any notice. But Rob hadn’t been thinking how pathetic Kurt’s conversation skills were, especially when it came to something so personal. However much he might like to, Kurt had no idea how to console her. The one thing he could do was talk dogs. He was glad when Kelsey joined them and even gladder when the conversation settled into one that was easy and comfortable.

  Kurt hadn’t seen Tess in forever. She’d gone from a gangly teen to a woman in her midtwenties who most guys would find it hard not to look twice at. But Tess was Tess, and no matter how life or years had separated them, he cared about her as much as he had the last time he’d seen her eight or nine years ago. He’d traveled to St. Louis from the post with William. While his grandfather went about whatever business had brought him to the city, Kurt had met Tess for lunch at her aunt’s sandwich shop on the Hill, a cozy Italian neighborhood he’d been meaning to take Kelsey to whenever there was a quiet hour. He’d been in his late teens and giving serious thought to enlisting. Tess was two years younger, still in high school and not at all interested in military life.

  And back then, before they’d reconnected over lunch, he’d been wondering if, since they had so much in common, he’d ever think of her as more than the sister he’d never had. When he’d seen her and they started talking, the answer back then was just as obvious as it was now.

  He’d walk through hell and back for her, but he’d never think of her as more than a would-be sister.

  And out of all of this, what moved him the most was that somehow, without ever being told any of it, Kelsey had picked up on the important stuff. Her at-first-tense shoulders relaxed, and she fell back into her warm and inviting ways. With every dog they introduced Tess to, Kelsey told simple stories that made Tess laugh and brought the color back to her tearstained cheeks.

  It was one of the things that moved Kurt most about Kelsey, the way words always came so easily to her. By the time Tess had been introduced to all the dogs and fallen desperately in love with Frankie, Kelsey was inviting her over to Ida’s for lunch and to help finish assembling the wedding favors.

  Tess looked to Rob before answering, probably remembering that even when it wasn’t warranted, Rob was always in a hurry.

  “I wish I could, but I promised to help at the warehouse this afternoon. I’d love a tour of that shelter of yours soon though. When you have the time.”

  “Are you staying in town for a while?” Kurt asked.

  Tess gave a slight shrug of one shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe. I left my friends in a hurry, but right now I think my grandma needs me.”

  “If you stick around, you know Rob’ll put you to work.”

  “If I stay, I’m going to want to be busy. I’ll keep you posted. Rob gave me your number.”

  They headed down the stairs and out to the circular drive. Tess hugged Kurt hard, her thin body and wool sweater pressing into him, then hugged Kelsey without losing a beat. “It was nice to meet you, Kelsey. I knew from all that Rob said on the way over about you and your shelter that Kurt and these dogs were in good hands, and now I’m sure of it.”

  Kelsey’s cheeks lit with a pretty blush. Like him, she was probably wondering what assumptions, if any, Rob had made about their relationship. Tess’s words had an air of innocence about them. However, since Kurt had already asked Rob for overnight dogsitting during the reception next weekend, she likely knew he and Kelsey were doing more than just leading a rehab together.

  Rob and Tess loaded into the van, and Rob gave Kurt a single knowing wink before flipping the ignition and heading out.

  Kurt stood beside Kelsey as the van headed down the road. A mess of words rolled over his tongue, but none came out. He wanted to thank her for letting her guard down so easily when, aside from the few snippets that had come out during the tour, she knew so little of his and Tess’s history.

  But the words were stuck alongside all the words about the unexpected money and the forgiveness his grandmother must have felt toward her family, and the most befuddling words of all about a father and a connection that Kurt had given up all hope of.

  He dragged a hand through his hair, and the words slipped further and further away.

  A few hundred feet from them, Ida and Megan were on Ida’s porch pouring honey that Kurt could smell even from here. Inside Sabrina’s house, his grandfather was waiting for him to finish with a mess of plaster.

  “Thanks.” It was a small word and hardly worth saying without being attached to a string of others.

  Kelsey tugged at the zipper of her hoodie while a bee circled around her hand. “Sure. She’s nice.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’d, um, better get back. We weren’t even a quarter of the way through when I left.” She turned away without waiting for a reply.

  He was about to let her go when he caught her hand and pulled her into a kiss that was both deep and heavily curtailed at the same time. When he let her go, she brushed a wisp of hair back from his forehead.

  “Kurt, whenever you’re ready to talk about it, whatever it is, I’m here.”

  He nodded and felt his throat constrict. “I know. And right now, this is all I can do.”

  “That’s okay. You’re worth waiting for.”

  Chapter 22

  There were places where you could go a hundred times and still feel like a foreigner or, at best, an interloper—the post office fit the bill for Kelsey—and there were places you could go only once and feel you absolutely, unequivocally belonged. This had happened the first time Kelsey visited the shelter.

  She knew she belonged, and in a big way. Despite the small staff size, getting hired had fallen into place easier than many other things in her life. Seven years later, looking around the building as it underwent changes and renovations, Kelsey still felt the same sense of belonging and ease. She sank into the familiar, one-leg-was-just-a-touch-shorter-than-the-rest chair at her desk and placed her palms flat against the wooden top, savoring a moment of quiet.

  Hearing the plop of one of her favorite human’s bodies into a chair, Trina raced over and hopped up onto the desk with the grace and ease of a cat who wasn’t missing one leg.

  “I can always make time for you, girl.” Kelsey leaned forward and let Trina sniff her nose and face before the attention-loving cat began to rub against her.

  It was so nice to sit and do nothing. Even if it was only for a minute or two. At Sabrina’s house, there was always another item to be checked off a seemingly endless list. Here, it was basically the same, but there was a coziness about the place that most everyone slipped into savoring from time to time.

  And now was as good as any. All the volunteers had gone home early, and there were no customers. Fidel was in back
clanging around by the kennels, and Patrick was out front using a hose with a nozzle powerful enough to wash away the bird poop that collected under the big oak that pushed the sidewalk up near the parking lot entrance. This was a chore he saved for when he needed to work through something. Since things were going so well here and his home life was usually predictably quiet, Kelsey suspected he was still reeling about Mason Redding’s accident and the struggle the Red Birds were having in the playoffs this year. He was a Red Bird fan to the bone.

  Since Megan had left for Georgia last Friday, Kelsey had been here a few hours during the midday rush each afternoon. The most eventful thing that had happened was when a laid-off construction worker came back for the senior Bernese mountain dog he’d surrendered three months prior. He’d found work and, with his first paycheck, had come back inquiring whether the old dog had been adopted. The man was quiet and reserved, and if Kelsey wasn’t so head over heels for someone with a similar demeanor, she might have mistaken his feelings for indifference.

  She’d seen his hands shaking and couldn’t help wondering if he was someone who held everything in. He’d done nothing more than nod and swallow when she admitted that while a few people had shown interest, his dog was still here. Moose was a good, quiet dog, but at seven and a half, he was nearing the end of the average lifespan for the breed and was already down in his hips.

  She’d pulled Moose from his run and brought him to the front room to reintroduce them. As soon as his master said his name from across the room, Moose let out a high-pitched bark and bounded over in a way that seemed to shed the years from him.

  The man had dropped to his knees, breaking into tears and bear-hugging the ecstatic dog. There hadn’t been a dry eye in the place, and this included a handful of visitors too. Kelsey waived the re-adoption fee and sent the man home with a two-month supply of Moose’s new arthritis medicine.

  The experience reminded Kelsey of how much she enjoyed witnessing the love connections that took place here every day. Some were small and subtle; others were so touching that she’d ride on the glow of them for days, remembering all the things she loved best about the world.

  A small part of her wondered how it would feel to come back here full time, whenever that might be. If it’d be like she’d never left and the rehab had never happened. Some days, it seemed like the rehab would go on forever. That she and Kurt and the dogs and Mr. Longtail were right where they were supposed to be, and things were never going to change.

  But what would happen when the court case was over and the last dogs were ready to be brought here? Just as she couldn’t imagine leaving Mr. Longtail all alone in a big, quiet house again, she couldn’t imagine not seeing Kurt for an extensive part of her day. She’d never hold the dogs back a single day from the new lives that would be waiting for them—and the more publicity they got, the more certain she was they’d all find loving homes—but moving on might very well crush her.

  And what would Kurt do? Would he head west like he’d been talking about when they met, or would he want to go back to the post? Did he care about her enough to stay? Her heart thumped at the idea. Beyond any doubt, she wanted him to. She wanted him in her life. Every day. She just hadn’t been able to gather the nerve to tell him.

  If everything went as planned, tomorrow—Megan and Craig’s reception—could prove to be a really defining day. Not only would there be dancing and music and all the wine and fine food they might imagine, but there’d be a fancy room in a high-end bed-and-breakfast with his and her bathrobes and a hot tub and a private deck and God knew what else.

  Feeling a wave of excitement mixed with insecurity wash over her, Kelsey laid her head on the desk. She heard a soft clunk and the rolling of glass on wood, and something bumped the top of her head. Sitting upright, she picked up the handblown glass fishing float she’d found on the Oregon coast as a kid. It had rolled off her monitor riser. Every time she looked at it, she remembered the muted surprise of finding it on the beach half-covered by sand. She remembered her father’s joy and his powerful hug and his exclamation of what a lucky girl she was.

  She cupped the glass float in both hands. It was a little larger than a billiard ball. The cool, green glass was translucent and even prettier in the sunlight.

  “You’d look good in the light that pours through Sabrina’s kitchen window.”

  Talking to animals is one thing. Talking to glass orbs is another.

  Still, she couldn’t escape the feeling that this float needed to be rehomed to Sabrina’s house. She’d had it on her desk forever. But she didn’t need a float to bring her luck. What she needed was confidence.

  And to arrive on time to the mani-pedi she’d scheduled for three o’clock, which was only ten minutes away. If she didn’t take the time out today, she wasn’t going to get it done. Tomorrow was going to zoom by in a whirlwind of activity. Not only did she plan to work the first half of the day at Sabrina’s, but she’d also promised to help get everything set up at the winery, and she’d still need to find time to look her best.

  Dropping the float in her purse, Kelsey gave Trina a quick scratch on the chin and headed for the door. With the dress she’d found, this mani-pedi, an updo, and some new makeup, she was hoping to knock a certain ex-marine’s socks off.

  Or maybe just his pants.

  When she stepped outside, Patrick was rolling up the hose, talking to himself.

  “Hey, I’m heading out,” she called, walking his way.

  Patrick dragged his wet fingers through his hair, leaving a visible trail of moisture. “Does Kurt need you to feed tonight? Are there volunteers coming in?”

  “Um, there are a couple guys coming in. I could probably miss it, if needed. What’s up?”

  He grinned the same way he did when he watched puppies at play. “I had an idea. To make it work, I need you.”

  “Okay. How soon? I’ve got an appointment in a few minutes to get my nails done. It shouldn’t take more than an hour though.”

  He glanced skyward, working through something. “That should give us just enough time. Text me the address. I’ll pick you up in one hour.”

  “Okay. Do you want to tell me what this is about?”

  “No.”

  Her fault. Patrick took all questions at face value. Oh well, there’s the air of mystery to hold on to. “Then I guess I’ll see you in an hour.”

  * * *

  Kelsey was still wearing foam thongs and had her nails under a fan when Patrick pulled into the parking lot of the strip mall. Her jaw dropped at the sight of the monster of a dog in the backseat of Patrick’s old Tacoma truck. She’d ridden back there once. Clambering into it had been a chore. How Patrick had gotten the giant dog loaded, she couldn’t fathom. And how he’d gotten Kurt to agree to taking him off property was an even bigger mystery.

  She did a quick touch test of her toes and fingers. Deeming her nails sufficiently dry, she grabbed her purse and sandals and shuffled out to meet him.

  Patrick had rolled his window down and was looking like a kid the night before Christmas.

  “Patrick, why is Devil in your truck?”

  “Because of my idea.”

  Patrick had gone to the Raven estate every afternoon for a week to work with the ginormous dog, but no great strides seemed to have been made in Devil’s behavior. Moving his kennel to the window had kept him from gnawing it to shreds but hadn’t kept him from lunging at the other dogs when he was led too close to their kennels. While several of the other dogs had now been introduced to Orzo on leash, the idea of seeing how he and Devil got along seemed liked a fairy-tale dream.

  Devil tolerated people but had little interest in them. Patrick might eventually prove to be an exception. When he praised the indifferent dog for good behavior, Kelsey had actually seen Devil’s ears perk and his tail thump a time or two.

  “Is he going to be okay when I hop inside?”


  “He should be, and he’s harnessed in.”

  “How did you ever manage that?”

  “He’s irritable but consenting.”

  Keeping her movements calm and purposeful, Kelsey slid into the worn cloth passenger seat, feeling awed by the sheer volume of space Devil occupied behind her. He could tie a show pony in a shadow-making contest.

  “So, can you please tell me where we’re headed? The suspense has just quadrupled.”

  “Edwardsville.”

  She waited, hoping Patrick would offer more explanation on his own. The truck interior smelled like dog breath, and she focused on breathing through her mouth. Devil was panting, his head was cocked, and he was eyeing her with big, brown eyes.

  “What’s in Edwardsville?” she asked as Patrick merged onto the street.

  “Devil’s old vet. The one who microchipped him.”

  “I thought his microchip was a dead end.”

  “It was.”

  When it became clear he didn’t intend to add anything else—Patrick was a one-task-at-a-time guy, and now he was driving—Kelsey drew in a controlled breath. As soon as he stopped at a light, she blurted out, “So why are we going there now? What purpose do you think it’ll serve?”

  “Devil is different from the other dogs.” Patrick drummed the steering wheel with his fingers. “Like I said before, he doesn’t want to connect with us. I don’t think he’s watching the door and staring out the window because he wants to guard the house. I think he’s looking for someone. Someone in particular.”

  Kelsey frowned. “His first owner? Devil’s microchip wasn’t even registered. Who knows if the person who first adopted him kept him. Dogs his size often pass through a lot of homes. And the vet stopped treating him before he was a year old.”

  “Yes, when his owner moved.”

  When the light turned green and Patrick didn’t add to his train of thought, Kelsey determined she’d need to settle in for the forty-five-minute drive and learn his plan when they got there. With Devil’s panting and pervasive dog breath, and Patrick keeping to the speed limit but choosing to drive in the left lane since highway studies had determined it to incur the least number of accidents, the drive was close to torture.