Blue Ridge Hideaway

by Cynthia Thomason

  Oh, yes. Her damp hand was proof of that. “How old is he?” she asked.

  “We think about four. He was living with a lady out in the county who had more than forty dogs. That violates not only the laws of humane treatment, but criminal statutes, as well. She had to get rid of thirty of them. This little guy was one.”

  “Wow. He doesn’t act like he’s been abused in any way.” The dog continued to leap happily at the fence.

  “No, I don’t think he was. I think he was just ignored.” The lady smiled. “I come from a family of six siblings, so I understand how lonely you can feel in a crowd.” She reached over the fence and picked up the dog. “Here, hold him. He’s only fourteen pounds.”

  Don’t do it, Dorie. The voice of reason echoed in her brain at the same time her hands reached out for the dog. He immediately put his paws on her shoulders and lapped at her chin. She laughed into the fur of his neck. “What’s his name?”

  “King,” the woman said. “Although his royal lineage and bearing don’t really support that title.” She rubbed behind King’s ears. “We have a special today. You can take him home for only fifty dollars.”

  Dorie had that much left from the grocery fund, although technically the money belonged to Bret. But she was getting paid today. No, she couldn’t possibly....

  You can’t do this, she said to herself. There was no way she should give up her earnings for five hours of work to buy this dog. Plus, did she really want to commit to additional expenses of ownership? Granted she loved dogs. She and Jack had lost their dog a year ago, and they often talked about getting another one. But she already had enough going on in her life without adding this...adorable, friendly, needy little creature.

  She started to hand the dog back, but his golden eyes locked on hers and she held him just a moment too long. Maybe this wasn’t the right time, but this definitely was the right dog. She heard her voice as if it was coming from someone else, someone who made rash decisions based on temporary insanity. “I’ll need dog food,” the voice said. “And a leash and a toy or two.”

  “Got it all right here,” the woman said. She slipped a nylon leash around the dog’s neck and set him on the pavement. Then she handed Dorie a bag imprinted with Find-a-Home Adoptions. “There’s a chewy bone and a squeaky toy in there to get you started and a five-pound bag of kibble. There’s also a one-page info form we’d like you to fill out. Mostly it says if you can’t keep the dog for any reason, you’ll give him back to us.”

  Dorie tried to steer her thoughts in the right direction, but with King’s paws scratching lightly at the knee of her jeans, the only message that came through loud and clear was, We need each other, King. She fished in her pocket for the extra fifty, handed it over and quickly filled out the form.

  “I know he’s found a fine home,” the woman said.

  “I’ll take good care of him,” Dorie promised, knowing that the dog’s “fine home” might not be a reality for his first week in Dorie’s life. Somehow she’d just have to convince Bret that this addition wouldn’t cause the least bit of trouble. As she walked to the truck, pushing the grocery cart and leading her new dog, Dorie leaned over and said, “You will behave yourself, right, King?”

  His tongue lolled to the side and his eyes sparkled. If a dog could smile, King was grinning like he’d just been given his very own canine empire.

  “Oh, boy,” she said as she started the truck. “Enjoy the ride, little guy, because we don’t know what the rest of the day will be like.” King stuck his head out the window and did what she told him, as if he was exactly where he was meant to be.

  When she reached the road to The Crooked Spruce, Dorie saw Bret’s truck parked at the school-bus stop. She quickly tugged King onto the seat and held him down beside her. “Stay,” she said to the dog. “Let’s wait for the right time to reveal your existence.” She had no idea when the right time would be though.

  Bret honked, held his hand out the window. She had no choice but to stop so she did, as far away from his truck as possible. “I’ll help you unload the groceries as soon as the bus comes,” he said.

  She inched forward with only one hand on the wheel. “No problem. I can handle it.”

  She drove up the mountain in record time for her laboring old truck, looked around for Clancy and unfortunately saw him coming off the porch. She got out of her truck and set King on the ground.

  “What’s that?” Clancy asked.

  “It’s called a dog,” she said.

  “I know that, but what’s it doing here?”

  “I don’t have time to explain. Just promise me you’ll let me tell Bret in my own way.”

  “Bret doesn’t want a dog.”

  “I know that.”

  “Well, then, I’m happy to let you tell him you brought one here. I certainly don’t want to.” He scratched his stubble of beard. “Funny-looking thing.”

  Holding the leash, she started jogging around to the back of the cabin. “That’s what he just said about you,” she shot back.

  She scrambled in the garden shed for a length of rope and tied the dog to the door knob. “That should hold you for a while.” She filled a planter with water from the spigot and set the bowl beside him and started to walk away.

  When he realized he wasn’t going to get to follow her, King let out a sharp bark.

  “Quiet!” she said, her hand in the air near his face.

  The dog sat back on his haunches and, amazingly, didn’t make another sound.

  Dorie smiled. “You’re a really good little thing, aren’t you?”

  She ran back to her truck, grabbed Clancy and said, “Help me unload this stuff. I’ve got ice cream.”

  They’d just gotten the bags inside when Bret pulled up with Luke in the truck. The boy ran into the lodge and called Dorie’s name.

  “We’re in the kitchen,” she said.

  Both Luke and Bret came in and started fishing items from the grocery bags and putting them in the pantry. Dorie hurried. If she got everyone out of the kitchen, maybe King wouldn’t blow his cover.

  Unfortunately King didn’t cooperate. Sensing new humans around, he let out a few enthusiastic barks.

  Bret stopped loading groceries onto shelves. “Is there a dog in our yard?”

  “I’ll go look,” Luke volunteered.

  “Don’t bother,” Clancy said, passing a quick glance at Dorie. “I was just out back and I heard a dog, too. You know how these mountains can distort sounds. With the echo factor, that dog could be two miles away.”

  “But I’ve never heard it before,” Luke said. Before Dorie could think of a way to stop him, he ran to the back door. “There he is!” the boy cried. “It’s a dog, and he’s in our yard.”

  Dorie had thought she’d tied a strong knot in the rope, but apparently King should have been named Houdini, because he had freed himself from the tie. He was running around the yard, stopping occasionally to bark at the house. Poor thing was obviously starved for attention.

  “I’m going out,” Luke said.

  Bret stepped between him and the door. “No, you’re not. We don’t know anything about that dog. He could be mean or rabid. You could get bit.” He grabbed a dish towel...a dish towel? And opened the door a crack. “I’ll go out and run him off.”

  “No!” Dorie said. “You’ll scare him. He’s probably not mean. Let me go.”

  But he was already in the yard and slowly approaching a dangerous animal whose tongue hung from his mouth in a panting, happy grin. King jumped at the totally nonthreatening dish towel and ran in circles around Bret.

  Bret snapped his weapon like he was in a football locker room. “Go on, get out of here.”

  Dorie caught up to him. “This dog is not a danger to anyone.” She grabbed the dish towel from his hand. “I know the animal. I’ve
seen his papers. You can let Luke play with him.”

  He stood for a moment, glancing from Dorie to the dog. His gaze finally settled on the length of rope hanging ineffectually from the shed door. “What’s going on?” It was a question, but it sounded like a threat.

  “I brought the dog here,” she said.

  “You what?”

  “I can explain...”

  His eyes glittered with fury. “How could you do this? If anyone is going to get my son a dog, it will be me! And I’m not ready to do that. We’re all just getting used to living here. I’ve got a list a mile long of jobs I have to accomplish in a short period of time. Luke isn’t old enough to take on the responsibility of a dog.”

  “Would you just calm down a minute?” she said.

  “No, I won’t. I can’t take on the job of caring for another living thing around here.”

  His words stung. And anger boiled inside her just looking for an escape. “Oh, I get it,” she said. “You have far too many living creatures sucking off your kindness at this place already. And I’m well aware that I’m one of them! Well, you invited me, remember? I was ready to go and you followed me down the mountain like some crazed maniac.”

  “I wasn’t crazed. That’s ridiculous. And I didn’t mean you.”

  She’d been ready to tell him the dog was hers, but his self-righteous fury stopped her. Let him stew, she decided. She didn’t care. If he was so anxious to take out his anger on everything around him, then let him. She picked up King and tied him to the rope again. “I’m going in the house now,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. “I’ll finish putting the groceries away, and then I’m packing up and getting out of here.”

  “And take this dog with you!”

  “Oh, I will! I wouldn’t leave a sweet, innocent animal anywhere near you!”

  She started back to the house, and Luke came outside. “Can I play with the dog? Can I?”

  Dorie looked at Bret. He scowled back at her.

  “Dad?”

  “Okay, play with him. But don’t get attached. He’s not staying.”

  Luke ran to the shed and began fussing with Dorie’s knot. “What? Why not?”

  “He’s got an owner...somewhere. He’s going back where he came from.” His glare stayed fixed on Dorie. “Or going to wherever he’ll end up...I don’t know!”

  Luke crouched down and rubbed the dog’s back. “You’re a great dog,” he said. “Isn’t he, Dad?”

  “His name is King, Luke,” Dorie said.

  “Come on, King.” The dog trotted beside Luke, his tail wagging. “Hey, Dorie, can King have a hamburger? You said you were fixing hamburgers tonight.”

  It was true. She’d promised Luke burgers and fries. She’d have to keep her word and stay until after dinner. “Maybe a bit of one,” she said. “Dogs are meant to eat dog food. I brought him some, and you can give it to him.”

  Luke lay in the grass letting King lick his face. “Cool,” he said between bouts of laughter.

  Bret, who’d been witnessing the whole get-acquainted ritual, glared at Dorie. “Great, this is just great,” he said. “I knew I’d end up the bad guy.”

  Ignoring him, Dorie went into the house to put the kitchen in order.

  * * *

  DURING DINNER, KING remained obediently curled under the table. Only Luke mentioned his presence, retelling details of the couple of hours they’d shared in the backyard. Bret responded with grunts. Clancy gave monosyllabic reactions. Dorie, alone, engaged the boy in conversation. Having a dog on the property was a big deal to the kid. She wasn’t going to let his father’s grumpy attitude spoil it. Especially since she and King were leaving in a short while.

  By the time the dishes were washed, darkness had nearly descended over the mountain. Bret paced in the kitchen while Dorie put everything in cupboards. After she was finished, he said, “Isn’t it time you told me what this dog is doing here?”

  “I adopted him at the supermarket.”

  “You adopted him? So he’s yours?”

  “Yes, and I’m taking him with me when I leave.”

  He pulled out a chair and sat heavily. “Don’t you think that might have been a vital piece of information you could have told me earlier?”

  “Yes, it might have been. And I would have told you if you hadn’t gone ballistic over one little fourteen-pound animal.”

  “I didn’t go ballistic over the dog. Not exactly.”

  “Oh?”

  “I was upset that you were making an important decision for my son without consulting me.”

  She smirked. “For an ex-cop, your skill at asking questions to get the right information is a bit weak.”

  His sullen expression told her he was considering what she’d said.

  “But no problem. I’m going to pack.”

  “Wait.”

  She turned back to him. “What?”

  “You can’t go tonight.”

  She stared at him a moment. “You have a thing about darkness, don’t you?”

  “Not a thing. Like I said before, I just don’t think it’s a good idea to navigate the mountain at night. If you’re determined to go, then wait until daylight at least.”

  She was exhausted, and she didn’t want to spend her hard-earned cash on a motel. “Thank you. I will.” She hung the dishrag over the sink divider. “I’ll stay out of your way tonight. But please tally up my hours and write me a check, minus the fifty dollars I gave the adoption group.”

  He nodded, mumbled something she didn’t quite understand. “What?”

  “I said you’ve been a big help.”

  “Oh. I thought maybe you said you were sorry for acting like a jerk over one little dog.”

  “I’m not sorry. You shouldn’t have brought a dog here.”

  She tried to think of a sharp response but none came to her. He was right, she realized. She should have asked him first—this was his home, after all. But that didn’t make his harsh reaction hurt any less. She took a book from the library of a few dozen titles she’d set up in the lodge’s main room, called to King and went onto the porch to read. The wall-mounted fixture provided ample light, so she sat on the swing and opened the cover. King jumped up beside her and curled into a ball at the end of the blanket she’d brought from her room. A plump pillow she’d found among the storage supplies cushioned her back.

  Before starting the first page, she pulled the blanket to her shoulders and let the swing adapt to its natural rocking in the breeze. She listened to the night sounds of mountain creatures. At bedtime the first night she arrived at The Crooked Spruce, those sounds had seemed alien. Now they were as common and comforting as the waves washing onto Winston Beach. She reflected with a sad smile that almost any place could be home once you let its familiarity get under your skin.

  She’d read about an hour when Bret came onto the porch. She looked up, met his gaze and returned to her book.

  “You look cozy,” he said.

  “I am.”

  He went to the screen and stood looking out. “What are you reading?”

  “A mystery.”

  “Oh.” A minute passed. “We finished the puzzle without you.”

  “Just as well,” she said, not looking up. “I was the weakest link in finding pieces, anyway.”

  “Pop and Luke are upstairs watching a movie.”

  She nodded, kept her eyes on the page.

  After another long moment, he said, “You know, Dorie, I feel like I should explain.”

  She turned a page, looked up at him briefly and found his gaze intent on her face. “Go on.”

  King yawned, stretched and emitted a squeak of comfort. Bret almost smiled. “Maybe I was little over the top about the dog.”

  She set the book be
side her. “Okay.”

  “I thought you brought the dog here for Luke, and I considered that, well, inappropriate.”

  “Yes, it would have been.”

  “I know he wants a dog, but it’s a decision I will have to make if and when the time is right.”

  “Now you know I got the dog for me, Bret.” She reached over and stroked one of King’s floppy ears. “We seemed like two of a kind, this dog and me.”

  “You do have the same hair color.”

  She smiled and watched his shoulders relax. “I will admit that bringing the dog here was an imposition, even if only for a week. I probably should have checked with you before signing the papers.”

  “That would have been nice. I could have prepared Luke.”

  “Prepared him for what? An abundance of doggie licks?”

  “No. Prepared him that the dog wasn’t his, that it wasn’t staying.”

  That stopped her. Bret was right. She’d risked giving Luke the wrong impression, and she certainly hadn’t intended to let him hope for something that wouldn’t happen.

  “I’ll talk to Luke,” she said. “I’ll explain again that I picked King out for myself. I think I can make him understand. And, anyway, the dog and I are leaving tomorrow.”

  “Right, tomorrow.” He paused. “There’s still more to do,” he said after a while.

  “The ordering is complete. I expect shipments to start arriving by tomorrow. The three of you can stock the shelves and put things away. And I can email you a file for the finished website from Winston Beach.”

  “I suppose.”

  “I’ll be up early,” she said. “You needn’t bother to get up. It’s Saturday and Luke doesn’t have school. Give yourself a break for a change and sleep until a decadent eight o’clock. I’ll be gone by the time you have your coffee.”

  He nodded. “Well, good night, then.”

  A small tingle of panic settled in her chest. She didn’t want to say those two words back to him, knowing that good night meant goodbye. At this moment, he looked so much like his son. Vulnerable, uncertain, shy. And in the soft light, so very handsome. He was tall and strong, his limp seemingly nonexistent. The sun-streaked strands of his hair seemed almost golden. She cleared her throat and when she determined she was in control of her emotions she said simply, “You, too.”