Autumn Anthology

by Heather B. Moore

  Bitty looked up and redoubled her efforts to get Elvis out the gate. Priscilla was jumping up on Bitty, probably wanting to play.

  Bitty kicked her aside. Okay. That did it.

  Bitty is going down.

  She raced across the yard. In Bitty’s eyes Kaitlin saw that Bitty wasn’t going to leave without the dog. And Kaitlin was even more determined that Bitty wasn’t leaving with him— and she was going to pay for kicking the other dog.

  Kaitlin tackled her, and they rolled across the brittle maple leaves.

  “Stop it, Bitty!”

  “You can’t have him back.”

  “I can too. He’s my dog.” Kaitlin worked the collar out of Bitty’s hands and pinned her.

  “Not your stupid dog. Joshua.” Bitty bucked Kaitlin aside and came for her. The fur on Elvis’s back bristled in hostility. He growled, a sound Kaitlin never heard him make. Apparently he felt protective toward her too.

  “It needs to stop. The phone calls. The notes. The stealing. You could go to jail if you keep doing this.”

  “Joshua is mine! I need that dog!”

  When Kaitlin reached up to keep Bitty from getting to Elvis, she punched out and grazed Kaitlin’s head, making her pause.

  That’s when Elvis bit Bitty.

  “Ow! Stupid dog!” Bitty held up her hand and glared at Kaitlin. “I’m going to sue you.”

  “Oh, this will look really good in court. You go right ahead and sue me.”

  “You can’t prove anything,” Bitty said, struggling to her feet and backing away.

  Kaitlin’s new next-door neighbor, Jack, a retired military gentleman in his fifties who had helped her move in, was leaning against the gate. “I saw most of what happened, and you’ll be the one who gets in trouble, Ms. Branson.”

  He stepped into the yard and gave Kaitlin a hand. Elvis kept an eye on the man, but he was probably wondering if the man had his regular dog biscuits in his pocket.

  “Thanks,” Kaitlin said.

  They both turned to look at Bitty, who started to cry.

  Jack said, “Let me make some calls. I know a therapist who might be of help.” He waved to his wife, who’d been watching out their window. She came out and, after a brief conversation, she put her arm around Bitty’s shoulder and helped her toward their house.

  Jack said, “I’ll call the police for you, if you’d like.”

  Feeling sorry for Bitty, Kaitlin nodded. “Thanks. That would be helpful. I’ve got to go for a while, though, so they’ll have to speak with me in a few hours.”

  With Bitty in good hands, Kaitlin looked for Priscilla. Lucky for Bitty, Kaitlin’s little dog was standing and looked okay. She came over and nuzzled Kaitlin’s hand, and she gave Priscilla a hug. Elvis then wanted one as well.

  After a moment of mushiness, she looked at the dogs. “Okay, lady and gentleman, I am now going to clean myself back up and then we are going to go win Joshua back. You will, of course, be on your best and most charming behavior. No biting, Elvis.”

  After pulling out pieces of leaves from her hair and brushing it, Kaitlin dressed the pair in the matching sequined cowboy and cowgirl outfits, which she’d purchased in Sacramento that morning. Definite gender definition was provided by the pink and blue. No mistaking them at all.

  Except that she’d dressed Priscilla as the cowboy and Elvis as the cowgirl. This time she was playing the wrong-dog game. She couldn’t tell them apart, but he’d said he could. She was counting on it.

  “Okay, you guys look great. Now it’s show time. Let’s go win back your daddy.”

  They followed her to the Jetta, and she secured them both. She’d added a pink cushion for Priscilla. Of course, Elvis, the “cowgirl,” sat on the pink one today, and Priscilla sat on his blue suede cushion.

  She turned on the car. After uttering a little prayer, she said, “Okay, here goes nothing.” Or everything.

  She found the house number on the mailbox. Their house? The one they’d talked about buying? Surprised, she pulled into his driveway and set the dogs on the ground. “Okay, the show’s on.”

  She held their leashes and turned toward the house.

  It was their house! The one she’d fallen in love with; the one they’d talked about buying.

  She’d been so intent on looking for the house number that she hadn’t paid attention to the neighborhood or the house itself. But this was their house. Her heart melted entirely in that moment until it was a puddle of burning love.

  After carrying the box of Priscilla’s belongings to the beautiful wraparound porch, she set it on one of the two outdoor chairs and knocked on the door.

  Joshua opened it and held it open wide as if welcoming her and the dogs. That was a good sign. She hoped. Screwing up her courage for what lay ahead, she smiled and said, “The dogs wanted me to tell you trick or treat.”

  He smiled and motioned them inside. The dogs jumped up, dancing for him to pick them up.

  “Love the outfits,” he teased, greeting the dogs and giving them each a biscuit— but keeping his attention squarely on Kaitlin. “What’s up?”

  Here it was. The moment she could either chicken out or say what she needed to. She was tired of being stupid and lonely and miserable. “It was incredibly generous of you to give Priscilla to me, but I can’t, in good conscience, keep her.” She went back outside, retrieved the box, and held it out to him.

  Taking it, he raised an eyebrow. His voice was low and husky. “Are you sure?”

  “It isn’t fair to you or to Priscilla. She loves you. But I want to thank you, Joshua. It was very sweet of you.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek like he’d kissed hers.

  Handing Elvis’s leash to Joshua, she called out, “Come on, Elvis,” to Priscilla, leading her out the door.

  Now to prove if he could really tell them apart.

  She walked slowly, and was only midway across his lawn when he followed her out and called out, “Wait.”

  She turned around.

  He stood on the porch, his hands in his pockets, uncertainty in his eyes. “I’ve got the wrong dog.”

  “Oh?” Her voice came out little above a whisper. “I must have made a mistake.”

  He closed the distance between her, and Elvis followed right behind. “A mistake?”

  “Yes.” He stood so close, it took her breath away. She looked up six inches or so into his warm brown eyes and started the conversation they should have had last year. “Just like I made a mistake a year ago by not saying yes.”

  His eyes widened in surprise. When he spoke, his voice had a catch in it. “Do you mean—”

  “Yes.” Her heart fluttered as she waited for his response.

  His voice was soft as he leaned in closer, his clean man smell reaching her nose. He stuffed his hands in his pockets again, as if he didn’t trust what he’d do with them. “And I made a huge mistake in trying to make you jealous by asking out someone I didn’t care about at all.”

  Kaitlin nodded solemnly. “Yes. Even though I have come to learn that Bitty is wackazoid. She requires a separate apology all by herself.”

  “How did you learn that?”

  “She tried to steal Elvis right out of my yard.”

  “Oh, no, I’m sorry—”

  “Don’t worry about it. Elvis took care of it.” She grinned. “He bit her.”

  “That somehow seems like the right thing to do.” Joshua grinned back. “And just so you know, I’ve already made the apology to Bitty. But now I need to tell you how very sorry I am. I knew dating her would make you especially upset. I’m so sorry I hurt you like that. I just wanted you to come back to me.”

  She motioned toward the house. “You bought our place.”

  He nodded, studying the house for a moment before looking back into her eyes. “I bought it for you, for us, to make our home in. But I never had a chance to tell you about it.”

  She shot him a crooked smile. “I did something wrong, and then you did something wrong, and then I did so
mething else stupid, and then you... well, you get the picture. What if we just split it down the middle and forgive each other?”

  “I’d really like that.” His voice was shaky, and he didn’t reach out for her, but he took his hands out of his pockets, and she could feel his desire to touch her. But she had one more thing to do first.

  “Joshua?” She knelt on one knee the same way he had done with her last year. “Will you marry me?”

  He pulled her up and wrapped her in his arms, the place where she felt most at home. He held her tight, his eyes suspiciously moist, his voice husky. “I love you so much, Kaitlin.”

  Wrapping her arms around his waist, she said, “I take it that’s a yes?”

  “Yes!” He spun her around once and set her down, keeping his arms around her, and turned to the dogs. “She wants us!”

  Kaitlin smiled in joy. “Yes, she does.”

  He pulled her back to face him. “Now am I authorized to call you pet names?”

  With a rueful laugh, she said, “Yes. You are hereby authorized.”

  He caressed her cheek. “I love you, my little Katie bug. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

  She pressed a hand against his heart. “I love you, too, my big cuddly teddy bear. I can’t help falling in love with you— all over again.”

  “So this is for real? We’re going to get married?”

  “I hope so.”

  “When?” He laughed happily. “And please bear in mind that I’ve already been waiting for a very long time.”

  “How about next month?”

  “November? Your mom will kill me.”

  “She loves you, and she’s been giving you advance notice of everything I do and everywhere I go.” She pressed her cheek against his chest and drew in a happy breath. “She isn’t the one who wants to marry you, but, okay, how about January?”

  “No way. November sounds great. Do you still want to go to the same place for our honeymoon?”

  “You got it.” She grinned at him. “Blue Hawaii, of course.”

  “Of course,” he teased. “How did I not know that?”

  And then they were making new memories of kissing in Aspen Grove.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I hope I didn't bore you too much with my life story. —Elvis Presley

  One year later, at the Second Annual Running of the Hallowieners

  Kneeling along the finish line, in lanes five and six, Lindsey and Kaitlin exchanged smiles. At the starting line, Ethan held Elvis’s collar and Joshua held Priscilla’s.

  The crowd was even larger than last year— the silly new racing event was growing in popularity— and the racetrack was festively decorated with streamers hanging from poles along the sides.

  The race track had passed out different costumes this year, so the starting line displayed a row of pirate dachshunds. No eye patches or aaarrrggghhhs, but a parrot perched on each of their very long backs. Hilarious.

  So many things were the same as last year— but the year had brought so many changes to her life. And to others. Even Bitty had a new boyfriend now— after months of therapy.

  Kaitlin caught Joshua’s gaze, and his warm smile sent tingles through her. She smiled back. He blew her a kiss. She caught it.

  “You guys are making me sick,” Lindsey said. “Stop being so happily married.”

  “Whatever. You and Ethan ought to try being happily married for a change.”

  The track owner, Mr. Morrison, said his few words and handed the mic back to Jake Taylor— still mayor— who again counted down: “Time for the Second Annual Running of the Hallowieners. This year’s theme is Dachshunds of the Caribbean. Now get your long dogs ready. Aaarrrggghhh, maties. Let them fly on three... two... one... go!”

  Elvis and Priscilla took off running down the field, sprinting side by side straight for Kaitlin, way ahead of the rest of the pirate pack. This time they kept running until they jumped into Kaitlin’s outstretched arms together, bowling her over.

  “We won!” Lindsey yelled.

  Laughing, Kaitlin waited for the men to join them.

  Joshua helped Kaitlin to her feet and hugged her. “We came in first!”

  Jake’s voice came over the loudspeaker. “We have a tie for first place. Interestingly enough, both dogs belong to the Moores, Joshua and Kaitlin. Glad your dogs are on the same team this year.”

  The crowd laughed and cheered.

  “Come on up here. Bring those little pirates with you.”

  Joshua took Kaitlin’s hand, and they walked the dogs up to where Jake was grinning. “We have a cash award for first place of one hundred dollars plus one hour of racecar stunt driving training offered here at Morrison Motorsports Park.”

  Kaitlin laughed. “I guess Joshua will use that.”

  “You bet I will,” he said.

  After all the hoopla ended, they found Ethan and Lindsey— who miraculously hadn’t started a fight in their absence— and walked with the dogs toward the parking lot.

  “And with that, ladies and gentlemen,” Joshua said, “Elvis has left the building.”

  When they reached the Jetta, Joshua placed a protective hand on Kaitlin’s belly.

  “So what are you now?” Lindsey asked. “Two whole days along?”

  “I went to the doctor yesterday. I’m officially eight weeks along. We had a good seven months after the wedding to get to know each other first.”

  “Like you needed it,” Lindsey said. “You guys have known each other forever.”

  Kaitlin tipped her head. “Oh, like you guys haven’t? When’s the big day?”

  “We don’t have one yet,” Ethan said. “Lindsey just took back my ring last week.”

  After another big fight that had lasted several months.

  Lindsey winked at Kaitlin. “So if it’s a girl, let me guess— you’ll name her Lisa Marie.”

  Ethan said, “And if it’s a boy, you can name him after Elvis’s manager. Tom Parker.”

  “I have an even better idea.” Kaitlin looked up into Joshua’s eyes and took his hand. “If it’s a boy, we’ll name him after his daddy.”

  “Thank you.” Joshua squeezed her hand. “Thank you very much.”

  Heather Horrocks is the Kindle bestselling author of fourteen books (Who-Dun-Him Inn and Bad Mothers Club mysteries, Chick Flick Clique and Christmas Street romantic comedies, and Women Who Knew inspirational books) plus an upcoming series for writers, sharing her unique character interview and her amazing book-in-a-day system developed by plotting over fifty books, each in one day, with her Conspiracy Group (Diane Darcy and Bruce Simpson are the two or more people plotting together with her). She is also the founder of Word Garden Press, a niche publisher of PG-rated fiction and non-fiction.

  Raised overseas by her shop-til-you-drop mother and pay-for-the-purchases oilman father, avid mystery and romantic comedy lover Heather read her way through Columbia, Venezuela, London, Kuwait, and Iran— and later bought a video store so she could watch stories on the little screen, too.

  When she learned that dachshunds are actually considered hound dogs, she knew she’d found her Elvis story. She is happy to report that she has now learned how to correctly spell dachshund and invites you to watch one of the hilarious long dog races on YouTube. She found the quotes by Elvis online, and the movie and song titles both online and in the LIFE book Remembering Elvis 30 Years Later (thanks for the lend, Millie Berry). She had a great time working them into the story.

  She’d like to thank her readers: Diane Darcy, Kathleen Wright, Marie Barnhurst, A.N. Allan, Rangi Moleni, Dawn Duren, Janelle Fenn, Heidi Marsh, Anissa Wall, and Mindy Haltinner Horrocks (the newest addition to Heather’s family and a talented designer, who also helped add authenticity to Kaitlin’s dream job, certification, and, especially, the fabrics displayed in the design department).

  She loves anyone who can make her laugh, which explains why she adores her witty husband, her funny friends, Anne George mysteries, Bill Cosby, grandbabies, and her cu
te little dog Gus (a Shih Tzu). She loves to cook for friends, siblings, and especially her children (yours, mine, ours, and some of theirs) and their families. She and her husband reside in Utah.

  To be the first to learn of her new releases, or to see how many of the Elvis references you may have missed, go to www.BooksByHeatherHorrocks.com

  To read her dog’s outrageous claims, check out his blog:

  http://GusTheGregariousGhostwritingDogBlog.blogspot.com/?m=1

  Twitter: @HeatherHorrocks

  Facebook: Heather Horrocks Author

  Click on the covers to visit Heather’s Amazon page:

  by Stephanie Black

  Chapter One

  Startled, Mallory Ingram switched off the vacuum she’d been threading between cubicles and pulled her vibrating phone out of her hip pocket. A call at seven in the morning?

  The display read Michael Ross, leaving Mallory puzzled. Uncle Mike never called—though if he did call, this was a reasonable time for him to do it, since he never slept in past six.

  As she swiped the screen, she realized it was not seven in California like it was here in New York. It was four. Puzzlement escalated to apprehension. “Hello?”

  “Nelson Sanders is dead,” Mike said gruffly. “I figured you’d want to know.”

  “What?” Mallory stared dazedly at the row of windows showing the grayish glow of a cloudy October sunrise. “What happened to him?”

  “Prison riot. Just saw it on the news when I got up to get some work done. A couple of gangs got in a fight, and Nelson got mixed up in it.”

  “Nelson was in a prison gang?” Two images of Nelson muddled her mind: the wisecracking friend sitting across from her at a table in the library while they did more chatting than studying, and the desperate drug addict she’d seen running from her house, blood staining his T-shirt.

  “News report didn’t say he was in a gang, just that he was one of the casualties. Lot of prisoners got hurt. Two guards killed as well.” He paused. “School going okay?”