Holding On: A Colorado High Country Novel

by Pamela Clare

  Donuts with sprinkles???

  Kenzie laughed, tapping out a response.

  Lots of sprinkles.

  A moment later, her phone buzzed again.

  On our way.

  Oh, gosh!

  Kenzie jumped to her feet and dashed home. She brushed her hair, letting it hang loose, then put on a little mascara and tinted lip gloss.

  Why are you doing this? He won’t notice. He’s not interested in you.

  She ignored that voice and hurried back to the training room, where her first client was just walking through the front door.

  “Good to see you, Marge. Who’s this?” Kenzie knelt down to pet a tiny cinnamon-colored toy poodle puppy.

  “Snickerdoodle,” Marge answered.

  The puppy was trembling from head to foot, clearly terrified.

  “Hi, there, Snickerdoodle. It’s okay, sweetie. You’re going to have lots of fun today.” Kenzie stood again. “Feel free to pour yourself a cup of coffee and grab a donut while we wait.”

  Conrad couldn’t take his gaze off Kenzie. She was at the center of her world, the calm amid the chaos, and, God, she was beautiful. She usually kept her dark hair in a ponytail, but today it hung loose, making his fingers itch to run through it. Her cheeks were flushed from playing with puppies, a happy smile on her sweet face. She wore a blue sweater that hugged the curves of her breasts and jeans that did the same for her ass.

  He shouldn’t be thinking any of this.

  Pay attention, idiot.

  Seven puppies—a mutt, two black Labradors, a Great Dane, an Akita, a beagle, and Gabby—played and gamboled together in the center of the room, with Kenzie acting as referee. She intervened when the play got out of control and rewarded puppies who played well together, all the while answering questions from the puppies’ owners.

  Conrad had known that Kenzie was an expert with dogs. He’d watched her act as Gizmo’s handler at the scene of dozens of rescues. But there was so much more to know about canines than he’d realized.

  “The fastest way to housetrain your puppy is to be consistent with the crate.” She reached down, pulled the Akita off the Great Dane, and held the puppy, effectively putting it in time-out. “When your puppy isn’t in her crate, you’ll need to watch her, just like you’d watch over a human toddler. If you give her the run of the house and don’t keep an eye on her, she’s going to have accidents.”

  D’oh.

  Hear that, dumbshit?

  “How do you know when they need to go to the bathroom?”

  Kenzie put the Akita down. “When you see your puppy trying to sneak behind the couch or walk off into a corner, pick her up and carry her outside right away.”

  “That means I have to keep a constant eye on him.”

  Kenzie smiled. “That’s life with a puppy.”

  Gabby jumped and rolled with the two black Lab puppies. Kenzie scooped her up, leashed her, and carried her over to a toy poodle that stood behind a slatted, folding divider. Kenzie had put up the little divider to make the poodle feel sheltered and safe, giving it its own little space.

  She knelt down on the other side of the divider and set Gabby on the floor, holding her, giving the little poodle time to decide whether he wanted to meet Gabby or not. “It’s okay, Snickerdoodle. This is Gabby. She’s just a puppy, too.”

  Snickerdoodle stretched out his little neck, leaning forward on trembling legs to sniff Gabby through the slats of the divider. Then he wagged his tail.

  Gabby gave a little yip and wagged her tail, too.

  Kenzie gave Gabby a little slack, allowing her to poke her head around the divider. The poodle seemed afraid at first, but stretched out to sniff Gabby again. Slowly, Kenzie allowed Gabby to enter the little poodle’s space, until the two of them stood together, sniffing each other, their tails wagging. She gave both puppies a treat. “You’re such a brave boy, Snickerdoodle.”

  Kenzie glanced over her shoulder at Conrad. “Can you come hold Gabby’s leash and keep an eye on her? I need to get back to the class. Don’t let her jump on Snickerdoodle or do anything to scare him.”

  “Right.” Conrad got to his feet, crossed the room, and took the leash from her, sitting on the floor to the side of the divider. “Hey, Snickerdoodle.”

  Who would saddle a tiny dog with a name like that?

  “I’m Marge.” The poodle’s owner smiled at him—and blushed.

  What the hell was that about?

  Come to think of it, he’d been getting a lot of female attention today. The woman who owned the Akita had asked him if he wanted to walk their puppies together and had given him her phone number. The one with a black Lab had asked him if his girlfriend liked dogs—after looking at his finger and seeing no ring. The owner of the beagle had smiled a lot and told him fifteen times how cute Gabby was.

  He’d heard that a puppy was the best way for a man to pick up women. Maybe there was something to that.

  “What’s your puppy’s name?” Marge had to be thirty years older than Conrad.

  “Her name is Gabby, but she’s not my puppy. I’m watching her for Kenzie.”

  Marge’s face fell. “Oh. The two of you are together. I’ve seen you watching her.”

  Conrad started to say they were just friends but decided it was really none of Marge’s business. Some part of him wished he and Kenzie were together, so it didn’t bother him in the least that Marge had made that assumption.

  He glanced over at Kenzie and saw that she was watching him. She met his gaze, then looked away. Had she overheard?

  Conrad watched while Gabby and Snickerdoodle slowly became friends, eventually rolling and playing together like the other puppies.

  “Look at him!” Marge smiled. “Snickerdoodle’s not afraid now.”

  Kenzie walked over to them. “He just needs to move at his own pace.”

  Conrad felt a sense of pride in Gabby—which was stupid because she wasn’t his puppy. He had done nothing to mold her behavior. In fact, he was teaching her to be a juvenile delinquent, letting her sleep in his bed and poop on his floor.

  Playtime ended. The puppies were leashed and led around the room to experience all the stuff that Kenzie had set out for them. Some tried to avoid the artificial turf, probably because it poked their paws. Some struggled with the stairs. The Great Dane knocked over the metal trash can, yelped, and ran. Most hesitated to enter the tunnel—but not Gabby.

  Gabby wasn’t afraid of anything. She darted around on the artificial grass, made her way up and down the stairs, ran inside the metal trash can, and made a game of darting through the tunnel.

  Kenzie walked up to Conrad, that sweet smile on her face. “How’s she doing?”

  “She’s fearless.”

  Kenzie nodded. “That’s one of the qualities we look for when picking a puppy to train for SAR and HRD work.”

  That made sense to Conrad.

  They worked on Sit and Follow after that. Gabby was a pro, doing what he told her to do, taking the treats from his fingers. As far as he was concerned, she was the valedictorian of her class.

  Then it was over.

  “Remember to practice throughout the week,” Kenzie called to her clients as they carried tired puppies out the door. “Consistency is the key.”

  Ms. Akita came up to Conrad, tilted her head, and looked at him from beneath sooty lashes, puppy in her arms. “Do you want to take the dogs to the park now? The puppies can play, and we can get acquainted.”

  She was pretty—tall, blond, athletic. He should have been attracted to her, but he wasn’t. The woman who interested him stood nearby watching this exchange through narrowed eyes.

  Uh-oh.

  Conrad took a chance. “Sorry. I can’t. Kenzie and I have a brunch date.” He looked over at Kenzie. “Are you ready?”

  “Um … oh, yes.” Kenzie struggled to cover her surprise. “Let me lock up, and we can go.”

  Ms. Akita’s face fell, but she quickly covered her disappointment with a smile. “Mayb
e some other time.”

  Kenzie walked up to him, arms crossed over her chest, waiting to speak until the others had gone. “You’re welcome.”

  “For what?”

  “For being your excuse not to hang out with that woman.”

  “I wasn’t just making an excuse. Want to have brunch with me?”

  She blinked, staring up at him through wide blue eyes. “But I already ate.”

  “So what? Eat again.”

  Chapter 6

  Harrison had called it a brunch date, but Kenzie didn’t think he’d meant it that way. They were just sharing a meal at the New Moon. It wasn’t a date date.

  Don’t you just wish?

  Kenzie had watched her clients fall all over him today and had wanted to kick them all out of class. But she had absolutely no right to feel jealous. She had no claim on him. If he wanted to hang out with Hannah and her Akita, that was his business. Besides, she wasn’t into climbers.

  Keep telling yourself that.

  Harrison attacked his home fries and scrambled eggs as if he hadn’t eaten in a week. “How did you end up working with dogs?”

  How could he eat so much and stay in such great shape?

  “I’ve always loved animals.” She picked at her soggy fruit salad. “I wanted to be a vet when I was younger, so I got a biology degree from CU. I got a job working for a vet after graduation. One of the vet’s regular clients was a woman who trained SAR dogs. She invited me to a training one day, and that was it. I knew I wanted to train dogs. I started learning, and my businesses grew out of that.”

  “And you’re how old—thirty-three?—and you own two businesses. That’s impressive.”

  “I had help. I inherited my grandparents’ old dime store and their house. I moved into the house, and the dime store became the kennel and the shop. My parents gave me an interest-free loan to remodel the store and the house, and I paid that off last year. If I’d had to buy the property and start from scratch, I’m not sure I could have done it.”

  He nodded as if this made sense. “I bet your parents are proud.”

  “I suppose. I don’t see them all that often. They retired to Belize.”

  “How do you balance your businesses with dog training and SAR work?”

  “The store is closed on Sundays, but the kennel is open every day year round. I have a staff of ten who run both operations, plus a vet tech and a groomer. If I get sick or toned out for a rescue, my managers can handle everything. I teach classes on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights and Puppy Kindergarten on Saturdays, with some private lessons thrown in here and there. Once in a while I have to cancel class when I get toned out for a rescue, but it doesn’t happen often.”

  He looked confused. “When do you find time to go on trips, take vacations?”

  “Vacation?” Wouldn’t that be nice? “I haven’t taken a vacation since… I can’t remember. Running a business makes that difficult.”

  “What if something happens with the dogs at night when no one’s there?”

  “I live next door, and I have a surveillance system inside the kennel. My app allows the owners to check on their dogs at any time to see how they’re doing, and I’m able to see what’s going on when I’m home or out on errands.”

  She drew out her smartphone, clicked on her own app. On the screen, Inéz was playing with Crank, while the other dogs romped in the play yard or dozed in their kennels. She turned her phone so that Conrad could see.

  “An app?” He leaned in to look. “That’s high tech.”

  “People feel better when they can see that their dogs are safe, and I have to stay competitive somehow. I have to persuade people to drive up the canyon from Boulder if I’m going to stay in business.”

  He grew quiet, glancing down at Gabby, who napped at his feet, his expression troubled. “She woke me up from a nightmare.”

  The abrupt change of topic took Kenzie by surprise. “You had a nightmare?”

  He nodded, his gaze still on the puppy. “I was there, hanging over that crevasse again. Bruce, Luka, and Felix were frozen into the ice all around me, like fish frozen in a pond. Then I saw that the ice was moving. It was closing in on me.”

  Kenzie knew that he really had regained consciousness hanging above a crevasse. She couldn’t imagine how terrifying that had been.

  She reached out, took his big hand in hers. “What a horrible dream. I’m so sorry.”

  Awareness arced between them, startling her.

  His gaze met hers, his fingers threading with hers, a muscle tensing in his jaw. “Gabby woke me up. One minute I was trying to get out of that crevasse, and the next, she was licking my face. Do you think…?”

  His voice trailed off, his question unasked.

  “Do I think what?” She wasn’t thinking much of anything right now to be honest, his touch warm, mesmerizing, intoxicating.

  Snap out of it!

  She was an idiot to let this affect her. Even if Harrison were truly interested in her—and he wasn’t—he was still the kind of man who would leave her for a pile of rocks one day. She was done with that. Wasn’t she?

  He shook his head. “I’m being stupid.”

  Kenzie tried to piece together his unasked question. “Are you asking whether Gabby knew something was wrong and woke you up on purpose?”

  His gaze met hers, his lips quirking in a grin. “Stupid, right?”

  She traced her thumb over his knuckles. “It’s not stupid at all. Dogs can be very sensitive to the emotions of their humans. When I’m upset about something, Gizmo will whine, lick my hands, and try to get me to pet him. He wants to help, to cheer me up. I’m sure Gabby, as little as she is, realized something was wrong.”

  “You knew what you were doing when you chose her. She’s special.” Harrison returned the caress, sending shivers up Kenzie’s arm.

  Then it hit her.

  She gaped at him open-mouthed. “You let Gabby sleep in your bed! Don’t try to deny it. How else could she have licked your face when you were dreaming?”

  Harrison’s gaze met hers, guilt on his handsome face. “Busted.”

  “Is it too late to plead the Fifth?”

  Kenzie pinned him with her gaze. “You can’t plead the Fifth after you confess. That’s not how it works.”

  Conrad could tell from the gleam of humor in her eyes that she wasn’t truly angry with him. She hadn’t pulled her hand away, either. He liked that. Her touch was electric, her fingers delicate, her hand silky soft and so much smaller than his.

  If this is how it felt to hold her hand, how would it feel to kiss her?

  Don’t go there.

  Kenzie was saying something. “I know how hard the first several weeks with a new puppy can be, but if she doesn’t learn good habits now, it will be tougher for her to learn them later.”

  “I know. Sorry.” He looked down at the sleeping puppy again. “She was crying, and it seemed so heartless to leave her there.”

  “Did you have dogs growing up?”

  “Oh, yeah—sled dogs. Thirty-five of them.”

  Kenzie gaped at him. “Thirty-five sled dogs?”

  “Alaskan Huskies. I grew up there, remember?”

  “Yeah, but … thirty-five Huskies? I guess you didn’t have an HOA.”

  That made him laugh. “No, no HOA. No neighbors, either. My parents homesteaded along the Copper River. My dad built the house and the outbuildings from the ground up. We lived completely off the grid with a boat as our only motorized transportation. My dad trained sled dogs so that we could get around in the winter to get wood, forage, hunt.”

  “That’s totally bananas!”

  “Bananas?” Conrad laughed at her reaction. “I didn’t know anyone lived any other way until I was five. My mom got sick of roughing it after the next baby was stillborn. She blamed my dad for not calling a bush pilot to get her to a hospital. My father helped her bundle me and one of the dogs into the boat and brought us downriver. He left us in Cordova and headed
back to the homestead alone. My mom made her way with me in tow to Anchorage and got a job at a diner.”

  “God! How awful for your parents. It couldn’t have been easy for you, either. It must have been a shock to find yourself in a modern town.”

  “When you’re a kid, you just take it all as it comes, but I do remember how much I loved electric lights and warm running water. I drove my mom nuts flicking the light switches on and off and playing with faucets.”

  That made her smile, but the smile quickly faded. “It must have been hard for your dad to let the two of you go, especially after losing the baby, too.”

  Conrad nodded. “He loved my mom, and she loved him, but she couldn’t take the subsistence lifestyle. He knew he couldn’t live in the city, so he let her go. He was always the perfect gentleman to her, never even raised his voice.”

  “Did you see him again?”

  Conrad nodded. “Every summer, he made the long journey to town to get me. Then he’d hire a bush pilot to fly us to the homestead with supplies. I spent summers with him, learning how to set up a fish wheel, how to smoke salmon, how to hunt ptarmigan, elk, and moose, how to build and fix things. I loved it.”

  “I guess the outdoors is in your DNA. What do he and your mother think of your climbing?”

  “My mother hates what I do. Last time I saw her, she laid into me, told me I was just like my dad.” She’d said a lot more than that, crying and shouting in his face that he would probably die in the wilderness one day just like his father.

  Conrad had almost proved her right.

  Kenzie caressed the sensitive inner surface of his fingers with her own. “What about your dad?”

  “My father died when I was sixteen. He was supposed to pick me up for the summer, but he never came. My mom sent a pilot to check on him. They found him long dead on the floor of the house he’d built. An autopsy found that he’d died of sepsis from a ruptured appendix. If he had only radioed for help … I don’t think my mother will ever forgive him. She sold off his dogs and buried him at the homestead next to the baby.”