1105 Yakima Street

by Debbie Macomber

  Her leaving shocked him. She must’ve been desperate to get away and the reason, the only reason he could figure, was directly related to him and Jolene. In his eagerness to convince her to come home, he’d sent her fleeing.

  “Where’d she go?”

  If Bruce had any inkling, this news wouldn’t be nearly as devastating. “I don’t have a clue.”

  “Jane wouldn’t tell you?”

  He shook his head. “Either she genuinely doesn’t know or she isn’t willing to divulge the information.”

  “Really?” Jolene’s eyes widened.

  “I can’t believe Rachel would quit without telling me.” The fact that she’d left her job was one thing, but not mentioning it to him felt like…like a betrayal. He was afraid he’d lost Rachel entirely and that she never intended to return to their family. He refused to think that was the case.

  “I told you she’s a witch,” Jolene said calmly. She stood and carried the bowls of salsa and sour cream to the kitchen counter. “If Rachel’s decided she wants out of our lives, then I say we should let her go.” She hummed softly to herself, evidently happy with this turn of events.

  Bruce stood so quickly that his chair scraped against the hardwood floor. “How can you say that?”

  She spun around to face him. “What?”

  “That we should let Rachel go. She’s my wife.”

  “You’re going to divorce her, aren’t you?”

  Divorce her? How could Jolene even suggest it? “No!” He nearly shouted the word.

  “But we don’t need her. I can do the cooking and laundry and cleaning. I made dinner all by myself, didn’t I? It’s way better when it’s just the two of us like before you married her.”

  Bruce was horrified that his daughter could be so callous. “What about the baby?”

  “Well…” Jolene shrugged. “The baby’s a small complication, I agree.”

  “A small complication? A small complication,” he repeated. He couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “This small complication is my son or daughter, your brother or sister.”

  “I know that.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I miss Rachel. I want nothing more than to have her back. It’s wonderful that you can make a great taco dinner—don’t think I’m unappreciative. But Rachel means more to me than cooking dinner and doing the laundry. She’s my wife, my best friend, and I’m miserable without her.” He found it unimaginable that his daughter could be so self-centered, that all she thought about were her own interests and desires. She saw this pregnancy as a complication, while he was worried sick about his wife and child.

  He sagged back into his chair. “I called Teri Polgar and she doesn’t know where Rachel’s living, either.”

  “Rachel doesn’t want anyone to know. Not you, not her friends. We should just accept that,” Jolene said earnestly.

  Bruce looked up. “Have you heard anything I said?”

  “Yes, but I don’t agree. Dad, Rachel wants to get away from us.”

  Bruce didn’t believe that.

  “You say you love her and everything, but if she wants to live somewhere else, that’s up to her, isn’t it?”

  Jolene seemed to delight in pointing out that Rachel had left of her own free will. That she was the one who’d chosen to keep her whereabouts a secret.

  “Sit down, okay?” Bruce spoke soothingly, gesturing toward the chair.

  Sighing, Jolene reclaimed her seat. “What?” she said, folding her arms defiantly.

  “Do you remember, after your mother died, how you tried to hold on to your memories of her?” he asked gently.

  Jolene nodded.

  “Every night when I put you to bed you’d ask me questions about her.”

  “I liked listening to your stories about Mom,” she said. “Sometimes when you talked about her, your voice would go all soft and I could really, really see how much you loved her.”

  “I did love your mother. I still do and I always will. After we lost her, I didn’t think I could ever love another woman as much as I loved Stephanie. Then I—”

  “But Rachel ruined everything!”

  “No, Jolene. You didn’t let me finish. Then I discovered that loving again was possible—with Rachel. I want my wife back and I want us all to be a family.” Foolishly he’d hoped his daughter would see how sad Rachel’s departure had made him.

  “Daddy, you and I are a family. Rachel isn’t one of us.”

  “Yes, she is,” he told her. “I realize I made a mistake by rushing into this marriage. Rachel and I knew each other for a long time and we were friends before we fell in love. Once we did, we decided to get married, and I felt there was no reason to wait.”

  Jolene shook her head impatiently but Bruce paid no attention. He had something important to say and he was determined to make her listen.

  “What I failed to take into consideration was how you’d feel. For that I’m truly sorry. But it’s too late to go back. Rachel and I are husband and wife, and we’re going to have a baby.”

  With her arms still folded and a look of defiance, Jolene muttered, “Don’t remind me.”

  “I am reminding you because we have to work this out. Rachel suggested counseling but you refused.”

  Jolene shook her head again. “That’s so lame. No way am I talking to someone I don’t know.”

  “Not even if it helps you understand why you feel so negative about Rachel and our marriage?”

  “It wouldn’t make any difference,” she said angrily. “That’s how I feel.”

  “Please, Jolene.”

  “I said I won’t go and I won’t. You can’t force me to talk to anyone. If you think it’s so awful without Rachel, then you go.”

  He’d already scheduled his first appointment. “I plan to, but it would mean a lot to me if you’d attend the sessions, too.”

  “No way.” Her mouth thinned in patent disgust.

  “Why is it so hard for you to see that I’m concerned about Rachel and the baby? If Rachel’s completely on her own, what does the future hold for her and our child?”

  Jolene remained stubbornly quiet.

  “I remember a time when you begged me for a brother or sister,” he said.

  “I was only eight and I wasn’t smart enough to know that if I had a brother or sister I’d have a witch for a stepmother, too.”

  “Rachel isn’t a witch.” He swore if she referred to his wife like that one more time, he was going to lose it.

  “Sure, she isn’t one to you. The two of you were so lovey-dovey you couldn’t see what she’s really like.”

  “What did Rachel do that was so terrible other than marry me?” Unable to stay seated any longer he stood and circled the table, pushing back his hair in frustration. He could imagine how difficult it must’ve been for Rachel to deal with Jolene. She’d tried everything and, idiot that he was, Bruce hadn’t appreciated the self-control it took to put up with his daughter’s barbs and insults.

  No wonder Rachel had left. Bruce was as much to blame as his daughter. He’d been blind—willfully blind—and oblivious; now he was paying the price. If only he could turn back the clock…

  “Dad, be reasonable.”

  “Me?” he cried. “I’m unreasonable?”

  “Rachel will tell you when the baby’s born. You know she will.”

  “I want to be more involved in my child’s birth than just getting a phone call after the event. My place is with Rachel at the hospital, the way I was there with your mother. My child deserves that and I will not—” He pointed his finger at Jolene. He needed a moment to subdue his irritation before he could continue. “I will not let you dictate to me how I should feel about my son or daughter. It’s time you grew up and thought of someone other than yourself.”

  “Me?” Jolene leaped out of her chair, her face reddening. “Me?” she repeated. “The two of you were disgusting, going to bed so early every night. I knew what you were doing. It’s repulsive. And then you had to go
and do something stupid like not use birth control!”

  “You need to snap out of this and accept that Rachel and I belong together.” Bruce was shouting now. His voice shook with the effort to control his anger. “This baby, boy or girl, is going to need a father who’s present and available in his or her life, just like I was for you.”

  Jolene wouldn’t look at him.

  “And he or she is going to need a big sister, too. You’ve said you see our child as a complication, but this is a sweet, innocent baby who’ll love you unconditionally…who’ll need your love, too. Are you so biased you can’t see that?” he asked. “Are you so coldhearted that you’d reject your own brother or sister because you’re jealous of Rachel?”

  “I am not jealous of Rachel!” Jolene screamed, tears streaming down her face. “I hate her! I hate you!”

  “So you hate your brother or sister, too,” he said calmly.

  Jolene stamped her foot and in a rage swept her arm across the table. Dishes and serving bowls toppled onto the floor, shattering, spilling food in all directions. Then she ran out of the kitchen and down the hall to her bedroom, slamming the door. The sound reverberated through the house.

  Bruce sank into the chair and leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. They desperately needed help. This was more than he could deal with, more than he could handle alone. How right Rachel was to insist on a counselor…. He should have taken her seriously months ago.

  He hoped it wasn’t too late.

  Twelve

  Grace Harding was in her library office reviewing the budget when she heard a knock at her door.

  “Come in,” she called, expecting her assistant.

  Beth Morehouse opened the door and stuck her head inside. “Do you have a minute?”

  Grace glanced at the clock and realized it was past closing. She’d been so involved in her review that she hadn’t noticed. “Sure, come on in.”

  Beth walked into the office carrying a picnic basket. Filled with books? Grace wondered but didn’t ask. She smiled at this woman who’d become a friend. Beth’s love for dogs resonated strongly with her. Not only was she an effective trainer who’d been instrumental in setting up the Reading with Rover program, she rescued stray and abandoned dogs. She found homes for some of them and kept others for the library program. She trained them to sit with children as they read aloud. Being with a dog relaxed children who struggled with reading and were at risk academically. While a volunteer was close at hand, the real focus was on the children and “their” dogs. And on learning to read.

  Grace had instigated the program after hearing how it had started in a Seattle bookstore. Because of her own volunteer work at the animal shelter, it had immediately appealed to her. She’d checked with local grade schools and, not surprisingly, the idea had met with enthusiasm.

  That was when Grace heard about Beth, who’d moved to Cedar Cove three years earlier. As soon as Grace approached her, Beth had responded with an unqualified yes. Despite the work on her Christmas tree farm, Beth faithfully brought the dogs into the library several times a week. Without her the program wouldn’t be possible.

  “What’s up?” Grace asked, pushing aside her spreadsheets. After hours of staring at numbers, considering proposed budget cuts and trying to do more with less, she welcomed the break. It’d been a draining week and she looked forward to a relaxing weekend with her husband. They planned to go horseback riding along the beach on Saturday, maybe take in a movie Sunday afternoon.

  “I need a favor,” Beth said, sitting down in the chair opposite Grace’s desk. She carefully set her picnic basket on the floor beside her.

  “Anything.” Grace would never be able to repay Beth. Although the library program hadn’t been in operation long, Grace could already see a dramatic difference in the children. At first they’d arrived tense, uneasy about yet another reading exercise, but as soon as they saw the dogs, everything changed. Twice now she’d seen children from the program taking out books. Nothing could’ve been greater proof of Reading with Rover’s success.

  “Do you remember the stray dog I found four or five weeks ago?”

  Grace recalled that Beth had rescued a golden retriever she’d come across on the side of the road. The poor dog had no identification and she’d apparently been on her own for some time because she was in bad shape.

  “Of course.”

  “She was pregnant.”

  “Pregnant?” Grace repeated slowly.

  “The puppies were born a few days after I brought her home. She had a litter of five. Unfortunately, she didn’t make it. She was a lovely, sweet-tempered dog and it breaks my heart to have lost her.”

  “Five puppies?” The fact that the lost dog had been a golden retriever instantly brought back memories of Grace’s beloved Buttercup. Buttercup had been almost twelve when she’d died quietly in her sleep that summer. Grace still couldn’t think about her dog without feeling a pang of grief. The golden retriever had loved her life on the ranch and had never seemed happier than when she and Grace took long walks through the property and along the shore. It didn’t seem right that Buttercup was gone. Even now when she got home from work, she expected the dog to greet her.

  “So if you would, I’d be forever grateful,” Beth was saying.

  Grace blinked. Caught up in her memories, she’d entirely missed most of Beth’s comments.

  “If I would do what?” Grace asked.

  “Look after one of the puppies for me,” Beth said, giving her an odd glance.

  “Me? But…how?”

  “He needs to be fed every couple of hours. I have a special bottle I’ll give you. In addition to the feeding, he’ll need lots of attention. This poor baby has lost his mother and he’s been separated from his brother and sisters. He’s lonely and afraid.”

  “Beth, I couldn’t possibly take on the care of a puppy.” It was out of the question. “I have to be at work here in the library. I haven’t got the time, and Cliff’s constantly busy with the horses… .” Her voice drifted off. She didn’t add that she was still in mourning for her own dog and couldn’t take on another one right now. It was just too hard.

  “I can’t do it by myself anymore,” Beth said. “Not with all the work on the tree farm. We’re gearing up for the holidays. We’re already getting orders and some trees are being shipped as far away as Hawaii and Japan. I’m overseeing all that, plus I’ve got the training and the library program, and I can’t stop to feed two puppies.” She paused. “I can barely handle one.”

  “I’m sorry….”

  Beth ignored her protest. “Suzette has one puppy and Kristen Jamey took another. A third went to a woman at church, and I have one myself, so that only leaves this last little guy. Unfortunately he’s the runt of the litter, smaller and more at risk than the others.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find someone…else,” Grace said.

  Suzette Lambert was an associate librarian, and Grace figured the library was well represented in the puppy-care department.

  “I wouldn’t bother you if there was anyone else I could ask, and trust me, I’ve tried. I have nowhere else to turn. It’s just for a few weeks,” she said, her voice increasingly desperate. “I really need your help, Grace.”

  Grace started to raise her objections again when Beth bent down to open the basket and lifted out a small puppy. He was so tiny he didn’t even look like a golden retriever. His eyes were squeezed shut against the light and he squirmed a little in Beth’s grasp.

  “Can you tell the breed of the father?” Grace asked as a delaying tactic.

  “My guess is that he was probably a mix. Some Lab, some hound and maybe a bit of poodle. It’s too early to really tell.”

  An odd combination, although the puppy was golden like his mother…like Buttercup.

  “But I have a lot of responsibilities at the library,” Grace said, hoping Beth would accept the excuse.

  “Bring him with you. I’m sure he’ll be a hit with the children and
they’ll enjoy seeing him grow week by week.”

  “Just how long will I—will he need this extra care?”

  “A month, six weeks at the most.”

  “Then you’ll be able to adopt him out?”

  Beth nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “Four to six weeks,” Grace murmured. She didn’t want to do this but didn’t feel she could refuse, since Beth had done so much for her and the children. Grace didn’t like it, not one bit, but felt she had no other choice.

  “Will you do it?” Beth asked again.

  Grace sighed loudly. “I guess I have to.”

  “You won’t be sorry,” Beth promised. “He really is a sweet little dog.”

  Beth left as soon as she’d gone through the feeding instructions and other pertinent information. The puppy slept in the basket on the corner of her desk and didn’t make a sound the whole time Grace worked on her budget review.

  When she’d finished an hour later, she called Cliff at the ranch. There was no answer and she didn’t leave a message. Then she stood, retrieving her purse and jacket. “I’ll take you home,” she informed the puppy, “but don’t get too comfortable because you’re not staying, understand?”

  The puppy slept peacefully on, apparently not distressed by her lack of welcome.

  The basket rested on the passenger-side floor during the fifteen-minute drive home. The only sound Grace heard was a weak mewling as she turned into the driveway leading to the house. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your dinner soon,” she said in a grudging voice.

  When she pulled into the garage, Cliff left the barn to greet her, as he usually did. Grace climbed out of the car and he kissed her.

  “I brought company,” she muttered.

  “Company?” Cliff looked behind him.

  “A puppy,” she said. “Beth asked me—no, begged me—to take care of him for the next six weeks.”

  “And you agreed?” He seemed surprised, as well he should be, since Grace had made it clear that she was through with pets.