by Nancy Warren
A Dog Named Cupid
by
Nancy Warren
A Dog Named Cupid
Second Story in the “A Romance in Four Seasons” series
Copyright © 2013 Nancy Weatherley Warren.
All rights reserved.
Discover other titles by Nancy Warren at http://www.NancyWarren.net
These stories are works of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Nancy Warren.
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Preview: Border Collie Christmas
Preview: The Dog Days of Summer
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
“Cupid!” Jared Gardiner yelled at a seemingly empty wilderness tail popular with dog walkers. Receiving no indication he’d been heard, he put his hands around his mouth making a human bullhorn and bellowed, “Cu-u-pid.”
If there was anything more foolish than a grown man calling out to Cupid on February 14th it had to be yelling the word just as a kid of about 13 appeared, ambling toward him on the trail, an obedient Golden Retriever loping at his side.
The undergrowth rustled and the ferns parted and out surged Cupid, a rangy black and white Border Collie puppy with laughing eyes and a pink tongue hanging.
“Why do you call your dog Cupid?” the teenaged boy asked.
“Because calling him Stupid was too obvious.”
The kid laughed and stopped to pat Cupid who had never met a person he didn’t assume was his best friend. Or soon to be his best friend. And so would run up to them, tail wagging, and offer his body for patting and rubbing. And if a person had a dog treat in his pocket, he sat prettily in front of them, waiting to be rewarded for being so darn cute.
It was embarrassing. But then, Jared mused, if it hadn’t been for Cupid, he wouldn’t have met Erin. And he wouldn’t, at this very moment, have an engagement ring squirreled away in his sock drawer that he was hoping she’d accept when he proposed.
He planned to do the deed tonight, but after he’d booked a table at an expensive restaurant for dinner he balked.
He had no idea how a guy got up the nerve to propose at a busy restaurant, but he knew he could never do it. Apart from all the other diners nosing in on a person’s private business, the thing about asking a question was that there were two possible answers.
If the woman said yes, it would be bad enough, being congratulated by strangers and having to wink to the waiter to bring champagne.
But what the hell did a poor fool do, down on bended knee, a diamond flashing away, if the girl said, “No”?
Probably it was too soon to be proposing. He and Erin had only known each other two months and yet she had become as much a part of his life as the foolish dog who’d brought them together. He couldn’t imagine life without either of them.
Cupid was pretty much stuck with him and his six-year- old daughter Sadie. But Erin was a jewelry designer, here in Kaslo, Washington only for a few months. She rented a winterized cottage down by the river but it was a temporary arrangement. She’d never intended to remain in Kaslo permanently. She had business connections and family in New York.
The big question was; if he asked her, would she stay?
The boy and his golden had moved on and Cupid ran past Jared like smoke, stopping to cock his head. There was rustling in the undergrowth and then he was off, a blur of black and white plunging through ferns, leaping over a fallen log like a champion steeplechaser. Jared watched a squirrel run up the bark of a Douglas Fir and then stop, in teasing range, to chatter a warning.
The dog barked excitedly at the bottom of the tree, then began to run in circles around it.
Jared walked on knowing the foolish dog would catch up soon enough. The day was fine by Pacific Northwest standards, which meant it wasn’t raining. Low, heavy gray clouds glared from the sky, so low that the tops of the evergreens disappeared into cloud, but the rain held off. He ducked his hands into the pockets of his jacket and wondered how he was going to go about proposing.
It was the ring that had done it, of course. The ring he’d seen and known it was Erin’s. He’d been in Seattle on business and hadn’t even realized he was browsing jewelry store windows until the ring had all but jumped out of the display case and announced in a loud voice that it was meant for Erin.
The thing was, she was a jewelry designer, and not a traditional one. Erin worked with wild colored polymer plastics to create her own distinctive lines of Erin Nash jewelry. She also created one-off pieces for rock stars and celebrities. She wasn’t the diamond solitaire type.
And yet, the ring he’d been so taken with was exactly that. But the most original diamond solitaire he’d ever seen. The diamond was set in a geometric design on metal that looked like silver, but was in fact platinum. The ring was sleek, modern and yet still dainty and feminine. He pictured the ring on her long, slender fingers and was certain it would be perfect. He’d bought the ring on the spot.
That had been two weeks ago.
Some foolish romantic notion had made him think that proposing on Valentine’s Day was a good idea.
His cell phone rang just as Cupid galloped past him on a new adventure.
He checked call display, smiled as he answered. “Hi, beautiful.”
Erin’s laugh was low and husky, one of the sexiest things about her. “You wouldn’t say that if you could see me. I’ve got Band-aids on most of my fingers, I singed my hair with the soldering gun and I’m still in my pajamas.”
“Definitely beautiful.” He pictured her in mid-design, sketches all around her, her awful music playing and the expression of utter concentration and contentment on her face.
“I am so excited!” she said, “I just had to tell someone, Raoul Navarre wants me!”
A surge of jealousy, as absurd as it was violent spiked in his gut before reason asserted itself. “Who wants you?”
She laughed again. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Raoul Navarre? He’s only the hottest clothing designer in Europe right now. And he wants my jewelry designs to show with his fall collection.”
“Wow. That’s fantastic. Congratulations.”
She sighed. “I’m going to call your mother right now. Trish will understand how amazingly cool this is.”
“I may not know who the hottest fashion designer in Europe is, but I know who the hottest jewelry designer in Kaslo is, and I happen to be taking her to dinner tonight.”
There was a pause and a rustle as though she might be checking her calendar. “That’s tonight?”
“Erin, it’s Valentine’s Day.”
“Oh, wow. To me it’s already fall, I’m working on my fall collection. I got disoriented.”
“Can you still make it tonight?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Good. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
There was a short pause. Then she said, “You didn’t get me a present did you? I completely forgot the date. I didn’t get you anything.”
“Just bring yourself, that’s all the –“ He broke off in horror. The black and white creature he’d thought for a second was Cupid, wasn�
�t a Border Collie at all. It was a skunk.
And Cupid, who’d never met another creature he didn’t want to know more about, was dashing towards it.
He started forward, horror gripping him.
“No! Cupid! Leave it!” he yelled.
CHAPTER TWO
Erin heard cursing and thought that the normally calm, cool Jared had rarely sounded so frantic. Her first thought was that Cupid had taken an interest in a vicious dog or – food hog that he was – was trying to eat something disgusting. Her mind flipped to rat poison, or a dropped chocolate bar or something that dogs weren’t supposed to eat.
Cupid didn’t subscribe to the theory that a dog wasn’t supposed to eat certain things. Cupid thought that if something looked good enough to eat – and in Erin’s opinion his standards weren’t very high even for a dog – then he ought to give it a try.
So, she lived through a moment of her own panic and then had to ask, “Jared? What is it?”
“Skunk,” he said succinctly. She could hear him breathing heavily, imagined he’d run forward. Then she heard him yell, “No!” one more time. Then, “Oh, gross!” Then, “Oh, my God. That stinks.” Then, “Erin, I’ll see you at seven. You’ll be able to recognize me. I’ll be the guy smelling like fresh skunk.”
She said, “I am so sorry,” and really tried to sound sympathetic, but it was hard not to laugh. Poor Jared. And poor Cupid. She couldn’t imagine how sorry for himself the dog would be.
“Yeah. Me, too.”
“I’ll see you at seven.”
She hung up and tried to go back to her work, but for some reason her usual concentration deserted her. She supposed it was the realization that today was Valentine’s Day. She’d forgotten all about it since she’d been working so hard. Probably there’d been displays of stuffed red hearts and cards and candy at the drug store and grocery store but she hadn’t noticed. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been to town. She’d been so crazy busy.
Valentine’s Day. A day to celebrate romantic love.
She and Jared weren’t the gushy types saying “I love you,” every five minutes or calling each other pet names. But she knew he loved her as much as she knew she loved him. However, he had his hands full with a young daughter, a meddling mother and the crazy puppy who’d brought them together. Appropriately named Cupid by relatives who threw out the name as a joke, but which his daughter Sadie had decided, of all the names they’d suggested for the dog, was the perfect name.
It seemed a cruel twist of fate that on this of all days Cupid should be sprayed by a skunk but then, she mused, thinking of her own history, love could be like that. One day everything was red hearts and pink roses and the next you were sprayed in the face by a skunk.
Jared wasn’t like her former fiancé, she reminded herself. He’d left her for another woman when she was pregnant with their baby, in the midst of planning their wedding. In her head, she knew it wasn’t his fault that she’d ended up sick with a flu and pneumonia with high fevers and complications that meant she lost the baby. And, her doctor had informed her, she’d never conceive again.
She shook off the melancholy thought that she’d never have a child of her own and tried to go back to work.
Valentine’s Day. And Jared had booked a table in their favorite restaurant – the dining room of a rustic old inn a few miles out of town that offered overnight accommodation so Jared could join her in a bottle of wine and not have to worry about driving home.
She’d warned him not to get her a gift but knowing Jared he probably already had one.
He was her lover, after all. Her skin grew warm thinking of him and everything he meant to her. One day, she knew, he’d want to get married again and have more children. The loss of his wife had been a terrible blow and she doubted he was entirely recovered. So, for now, their relationship was perfect. He could heal, she could heal, they could help each other heal. She knew she’d lose him one day, but for now it was so very nice to have them all in her life: Jared and his six-year-old daughter Sadie and Cupid and Jared’s mother, Trish Gardener, who’d become a friend. She’d miss them horribly when she left here.
Already she’d been in Kaslo much longer than she’d anticipated, renting a winterized cottage near the river for a modest sum. But, come summer, the owners would likely want the cottage back and she’d have to figure out her next move.
Back to New York? She didn’t think so, even though her jewelry design business was doing better all the time. She’d discovered she liked the slower pace of life here, the inspirations in nature that were finding their way into her designs.
She wondered if Sadie had gone off to school with a bag full of Valentines the way she’d done when she was a child. She imagined they still had parties at school with moms sending in cupcakes and cookies and the kids giving each other little cards.
On impulse, she put her real work on hold and, with a glance at the clock, pulled out a sheet of red polymer plastic she had in stock for her Christmas collection. It was a little on the cranberry side of red rather than the valentine shade but she doubted Jared or Sadie would notice.
Valentine’s Day seemed like a good day to tell the people she cared about how much they meant to her. Sadie was easy. She traced out a red heart, and then a second, smaller heart and fashioned a necklace. She had plenty of silver chain and a clasp. She was so efficient at making jewelry that she had the necklace finished in less than a half hour.
She fashioned a more masculine heart into a key chain for Jared. She looked at it for a moment, then grabbed her cutting tool and cut into the plastic the words Be Mine. And the date.
Then she thought about poor Cupid, who must be as miserable as a dog could be about now. She made him a heart tag for his dog collar that had his name and Jared’s phone number. Considering that he’d brought her and Jared together by getting himself lost, and showing up at her place, an identification tag seemed like a practical gift. Maybe the red heart was a little frivolous, but she knew Sadie would love it. And his name was Cupid.
Once she’d done all that she didn’t feel right leaving out Jared’s mother, a woman she’d come to think of as a friend. For Trish Gardener she fashioned similar double hearts to the ones on Sadie’s necklace and turned them into earrings.
Once she’d popped each of the gifts into the fabric bags with her design logo on them, she realized she was running out of time. She dashed into the shower, pulling off the Band Aids on her fingers, trying not to wince.
She was so accustomed to wearing jeans and flannel shirts, thick wool socks and boots that it was a real treat to dress like a woman going on a real date.
She chose a black dress that was cut simply, made of stretchy velvet with a scoop neck and long sleeves. She put on her most luxurious lingerie, a black and red set of silk and satin that she knew Jared would love. Then her black tights and black boots. She’d love to wear strappy shoes with high heels but the rain had left her gravel driveway full of mud.
She’d thought when she first moved here that the frequent rain and gray skies would get to her, blanket her in mental grayness to match the sky. But it hadn’t happened. She’d learned to love the days when the skies were dry, to celebrate the sun when it came out by getting outside. And, when the rain drummed against her cottage roof, she’d light a fire in the stone fireplace and she’d work.
Something about the gentle tapping of rain on the roof inspired her. She had no idea why but was enough of an artist not to question her muse. If the muse liked rain and dripping evergreens and gray skies, Erin was not about to argue.
She put hot rollers in her hair and brushed it until it shone, hanging in loose curls around her shoulders.
She applied her makeup with care, realizing as she did so that she hadn’t bothered with more than a quick flip of lip-gloss in ages. She was becoming a real country girl she thought, more Kaslo than New York with each passing day. She grinned at her reflection in the small bathroom mirror. It would be nice to
go out all dressed up for a change.
With a romantic man.
On Valentine’s Day.
She could use the break from her hectic schedule, they’d spend a decadent night in the hotel and then tomorrow she’d be back at work, busier than ever now she had a new and very prestigious commission.
Sometimes, she thought, the tough times in life were only there to make you treasure the good times.
As she smoothed almond scented hand cream onto her battered hands, she realized she was really looking forward to their date.
They’d only known each other a little more than two months, she and Jared, and yet he, his family and the puppy that had brought them all together had become so much a part of her life that it was strange not to see or hear from one or more of them each day.
When the expected knock came on her door she opened it, all ready to go. Jared stood on the step looking so sexy she was reminded of what a truly gorgeous man he was. He looked good in his normal attire of boots and jeans and work shirts, usually sporting some kind of sport cap and a little stubble, but all cleaned up? Shaved, hair neatly trimmed, wearing a blazer, a blue shirt and his best jeans? He looked so good she might seriously consider a room service dinner. A late one.
CHAPTER THREE
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said, leaning in for a quick kiss that still managed to hint at long, steamy kisses to come.
She was so busy enjoying the sight, smell and taste of him that it took her a moment to realize there was a second vehicle pulling up behind his truck. A small, blue SUV that she knew belonged to his mom. What on earth?
“Sadie made you a valentine. She wanted to give it to you herself. Trish will take her right back home after and we can go on to dinner.”
“Oh, that is so sweet.”
