by V. K. Sykes
Teddy plopped onto the comfy old sofa that she and her roommate laughingly referred to as shabby-chic. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to drink her beer and then have a shower, but Emma’s impatient curiosity headed that plan off at the pass. “When I saw Buster had dug his way out, my first guess was that he’d made a beeline for the park.”
“That’s where he went the other times, right?”
Teddy nodded. “”I started to run in that direction, and just as I was starting to cross the driveway next door—you know the big hedge separating the properties, right? Well, the guy next door came barreling out and almost ran me over.” She gave a little snort. “Anyway, he looked like a ghost when he realized he’d almost hit me. I don’t suppose he expected to see a crazed woman running past his place like that.”
“Sounds to me like he was being a bit careless,” Emma said disapprovingly.
“He told me later he was a little distracted. He’s been having some problems at, uh…work. But he was super apologetic about it.”
Emma wrinkled her brow in thought. “I don’t recall ever seeing him. Then again, I’ve only walked Buster a couple of times.”
That had been when Teddy had a brief bout of flu. They each serviced their own clients unless one was covering for the other due to illness or some other commitment. “I think you’d remember if you had,” Teddy said slyly. “He’s a really big guy—like way over six feet—and hot as hell. Bedroom eyes that make you want to get naked fast, if I may be so indelicate. Trust me, he’s the total package.”
“Good God.” Emma pretended to fan herself. “And he’s going to be a new client?”
“Twice a day service when he’s out of town, which I gather will be a lot of the time. Plus the premium for two dogs, of course. Two Standard Poodles, littermates.”
“I want that assignment, or at the very least you have to share it with me.” Emma made a little pouting face that left Teddy not quite sure if she was joking or not.
“No way,” Teddy replied with a little laugh, deciding to take it as a playful jest. Not that she could blame Emma, since they both had been striking out on the dating front lately. “Finders keepers, girl. I don’t encroach on your territory.”
“Oh, have it your way, then,” Emma said with a dramatic sigh. “I should just be glad you brought in a new client. God knows we need the business.”
“Big time. Now, if you want the whole story, you’ve got to let me tell you what happened in order.”
Emma gave her a guilty little grin. “Sorry. You know patience isn’t my strong suit.”
No, but loyalty was. Tired of waitressing and being groped every night, Emma—whose parents had run a boarding kennel in northern New Jersey—had come up with the idea of creating Dog Nanny Pros as a pet care service for high-end clientele. Though Teddy had no animal care experience except for feeding and loving her father’s farm dogs, Emma had offered her friend the chance to become a partner even though Teddy had almost no money to kick in to start up the business. Since then, Teddy had made up for it by attracting more clients than Emma, but she’d always be grateful to her friend and roomie for getting her out of the bar waitress rut.
Teddy briefly described her search and her tumble while crossing the ball diamond. “Even though my elbow burned like a five alarm fire, all I could think about was the dog getting hit by a truck or something. Or picked up by animal control and winding up euthanized if his stupid owner didn’t bail him out.” She actually shivered at the horrible thought. “I was going to head back to the car so I could range further afield, but I knew the chances of finding Buster were pretty slim if he’d gone anywhere but the park.”
When she took a sip of her beer, Emma twirled her hand in a hurry up, please motion.
“I’m getting there,” Teddy said, rolling her eyes. “Meanwhile, the guy from next door had been cruising around looking for Buster, too, and just when I’m starting to run back to get my car, he pulls up in his Beamer—all smiles—and asks me if I want a ride. Then I see frigging Buster sitting beside him in the front seat, looking like he’s just had the best time in his entire life.” She had to laugh now that the trauma of the event was behind her. “The guy was lucky to find him, but how many people would have gone out of their way like he did?”
Emma propped her bare feet up on the antique but solid coffee table they’d scored at an estate auction. “Damn few. And now I can’t wait to hear how you thanked the man for his kindness.”
Teddy shot her the evil eye. “After I locked Buster in the house, I took him up on his offer to help me fix up the scrape at his house.”
“Shut up!” Emma squealed. “Don’t tell me you two wound up—”
“Oh, for God’s sake, you know me better than that. Though I can’t say my mind didn’t stray in that direction once or twice when he had those nice, big hands of his on me.” Then she gave a little shrug. “But who am I kidding? I looked like a beat-up hag and, anyway, that dude would be out of my league even if I had an extreme makeover.”
“That’s just lame,” Emma scoffed. “You’re gorgeous.”
Teddy smiled even though both knew that “gorgeous” was hardly the appropriate adjective to apply to her. “Well, once he’d finished patching me up, he invited me to lunch. That’s when he sprang on me that his aunt had asked him to take her Poodles. She’s got Parkinson’s disease and can’t handle them anymore.”
Emma grimaced. “That’s so sad.”
“For sure.” She sipped her beer, contemplating how she would feel if she had to give up two beloved pets. “Anyway,” she continued, “you’ll love this. He said he liked my freckles and the fact that I didn’t cover them with makeup.”
“Shut up!” Emma cried again. “God, now I really want this man. What’s this sweetheart’s name, anyway?”
“Noah Cade.”
Since Emma was a sports fan, Teddy raised her eyebrows in silent enquiry. Sure enough, her roommate pulled her feet off the table and sat up, ramrod straight. “Noah Cade? Are you frigging kidding me?”
Teddy shrugged. It was obviously a rhetorical question.
“Oh, my God, Noah Cade, the Patriots’ pitcher?” Emma exclaimed. “Noah Cade, one of the hottest guys in this whole damn city? That Noah Cade?”
“He said he was a pitcher with the Patriots, so, yeah, I guess that would be the guy.” That fact had meant little to Teddy.
“Wow. I read that he broke up with one of the Eagles cheerleaders a while ago, so maybe he’s in the market for a new girlfriend.”
Teddy snorted and waved a dismissive hand, as she usually did when Emma—a celebrity gossip hound—rolled out some useless tidbit of info. This time, though, she couldn’t deny that she was more than a little intrigued. And that was vaguely unsettling because, after all, a man like Noah Cade would never be interested in someone like her.
* * *
Emma’s linguine with clam sauce was one of Teddy’s culinary downfalls, and tonight was no exception. She worked to stay in good shape for her job—racing around after dogs required that—but she couldn’t deny she’d been feeling a little insecure about her looks lately. Not that attracting interest from guys had ever been a huge problem, and she never went long between dates. Somehow, though, those dates generally didn’t lead anywhere very interesting. Most guys seemed to find her too earnest or too boring, turned off by her deep interest in environmental and social issues. She did try to date people who shared her commitment—a few guys from her university classes—but those relationships never went far.
Sometimes Teddy worried she was being too picky. But was it asking too much to want a little spark in a relationship? Like the spark that had leaped into flame after she nearly collided with Noah Cade?
She sighed as she put away the last of the dinner dishes, wondering how much she’d actually see of Noah in the course of her duties. Yes, they’d agreed he would have her over to the house to introduce her to both the Poodles and his housekeeper, but after that, who kne
w? The very point of her service was to take care of Toby and Sadie while their owner was gone.
Before settling in for the evening and doing some research for her environmental studies summer class at Temple, Teddy decided to give her father a call. His chronic and debilitating back problems had flared up again, and she couldn’t help worrying about him. Dad loved her phone calls and always made a point of telling her how much better they made him feel.
Unfortunately, every time he said that, Teddy’s guilt flared up as predictably as his back. She loved her father more than she could ever put into words, but she’d made it clear a long time ago that farm life was not for her. Ed Quinn knew she wasn’t rejecting him or the value of his work, and he was proud that she wanted to become a lawyer. But his dream had always been to see Teddy, her husband and her children settled in the county that had been home to generations of Quinn dairy farmers. Unfortunately, it was a dream she’d never been able to share.
“Hello, sweetheart,” her father said as he picked up.
Teddy heard the blare of the TV in the background, no doubt from some sporting event he or Dalton was watching. Her father and brother were both sports fanatics, especially when it came to football and NASCAR. “How are you, Dad? How’s your back?”
He made a disgusted sound. “Ah, well, it’s nothing I can’t live with, but I still have a hard time sitting down for more than a few minutes. I watch TV standing up most of the time, like I’m doing now, but that’s not a picnic, either, let me tell you.” He exhaled a heavy breath. “I’ve got an appointment with a specialist in Scranton next week, so we’ll see what comes of that. I sure don’t want to have surgery, though.”
“A specialist—that’s good,” Teddy said, relieved that he was finally seeking help even though he fretted constantly about how the farm could manage if he was laid up for any length of time. “I hope you’re taking it easy and letting Dalton do the heavy work for a while.”
Though her twenty-eight year-old brother preferred riding his Harley to doing farm chores, he was as strong as an ox and easily capable of taking on added responsibility while his father rested. Unfortunately, Dalton did as little as possible at home, not even carrying his own weight.
A few moments of silence passed before her father said, “The tire shop’s busy all the time now, and Dalton’s been putting in a lot of overtime. With all the workers the drilling companies have brought in, and all the extra cars and trucks on the road up here…”
He didn’t have to finish his sentence. Teddy knew all about the impact of the explosion in natural gas drilling that had come to the Marcellus Shale region in the past few years. Every time she went home she was floored by the changes in the rural county of her childhood. Long-time residents either loved the sea change or hated it, but everyone had a strong opinion one way or the other. In her family, she and her father wished it had never happened, but Dalton had been easily converted to the drilling cause and remained practically a poster boy for the oil and gas companies.
It drove Teddy crazy that her brother was so short-sighted in his thirst for money. Sure, gas company money could bring the family a lot more income than they were able to squeeze out of their dairy operation, but at what cost, both now and in the future? What would Susquehanna County look like if every farm family signed drilling leases, and even more rigs and trucks and heavy equipment flooded the beautiful valleys? What would happen to their precious water resources? There had already been dozens of complaints across the region about contaminated water, and many residents blamed fracking for the problems. Even if the fracking fluids weren’t migrating up into the ground water—and she was pretty sure they were, or sooner or later would be—spills from the drilling operations themselves remained a monumental worry. She worried every day that reckless over-drilling would leave a blighted future for the children and grandchildren of the region.
“Well, Dalton should tell his boss to hire some more workers instead of piling up all that overtime,” Teddy said, unable to keep a bitter tinge out of her voice. “He’s got a responsibility to do whatever he can to help you, Dad, especially since he’s still living in your house.”
She’d given Dalton that message more than once, but of course he always scoffed at her, deflecting her criticism by endlessly pointing out that she’d flown from the family nest years ago. Teddy didn’t buy that line, not when her brother benefited directly from the income of the farm. Unlike him, Teddy hadn’t taken a dime from her father since she left home, nor would she.
Then again, she didn’t have to live with Dalton and his volatile temper, so she could hardly blame her dad for not wanting the house to be in a constant state of conflict.
“Joe Henderson signed a lease last week, Teddy,” her father finally said, changing the subject. “At first, Baron didn’t want to meet his demands, but eventually they did and the kid signed.”
The Henderson dairy farm was about a half mile down their road. Teddy had gone to school with Joe, who now co-owned the farm with his widowed mother. Teddy and her father had been hoping that the Hendersons would continue to resist the overtures from Baron Energy, one of the biggest companies drilling in the Marcellus, though not nearly the size of giant Chesapeake. Not only was this going to be the closest drill site to the Quinn farm, it would add even more pressure on her father and others to follow suit. The stunning news made Teddy’s spirits deflate in the blink of an eye.
“Oh, crap. I thought Joe had more sense,” she said.
Her father sighed. “But it’s hard to blame him, right? I know he looks at the gas royalties as security for his mother’s old age. God knows they don’t make that much from the farm anymore.”
Despite her disappointment, Teddy had to acknowledge the pressures that people like the Hendersons faced. Dairy farming could provide a solid income if you had a big enough herd, not a lot of debt, and you knew what you were doing. But there were a lot of small farms in Susquehanna and neighboring counties that didn’t score high on those scales. The Quinn farm probably fell somewhere in the middle of the pack from an economic viability standpoint. With his herd of sixty Holsteins and all his years of experience, Dad scratched out a decent living. But he hadn’t saved much money in the process and, like most every farmer, was only one disaster away from financial calamity.
The truth was, the Henderson farm had been marginal even before Joe’s father died. Could she really blame the son for looking at the up-front money from the lease—and the royalties that would soon enough line his pockets—and saying hallelujah for shale gas and fracking?
“No, they don’t,” she agreed. “But I guess they don’t put much of a price on the environment, do they?” She mentally winced, knowing how sanctimonious that sounded.
“Not as much as we do, anyway,” her father said wearily.
Dad wasn’t a leader of any of the anti-drilling groups that had sprung up, but he played his part in the fight against the blitzkrieg of hydraulic fracturing that the gas companies had inflicted on the region. Most importantly, he steadfastly refused to lease his farm’s drilling rights despite the nagging and sometimes belligerent pressure coming from his son.
Teddy adored him for his courage, his commitment, and for just being her dad.
“How’s your business going?” he said when she didn’t say anything more. “You don’t talk about it much.”
Although her brain continued to buzz over the lousy news about the Hendersons, she injected a smile into her voice. “Great, Dad. Just great.” A stretch, but Dad needed it. “I managed to snag an important new client today. You’ve probably heard of him because he plays for the Philadelphia Patriots.”
“Well,” her father said in a deep, drawn-out voice. That single word in that particular tone was what he almost always uttered when he encountered an unexpected pleasure.
“His name’s Noah Cade.”
“Hah! Really? Cade was one of the best pitchers in the game until he blew out his arm last season. He hasn’t pitched a regul
ar season game since, though it looks like that’ll change any day now.”
Teddy remembered Noah saying he’d hurt his arm but had no idea he’d suffered such a serious injury. “Blew out? What’s that mean?”
“He tore his ulnar collateral ligament. When that happens, a pitcher has to undergo what they call Tommy John reconstructive surgery. It’s named after the first pitcher to have it, back in the days when it was experimental. It’s not such a big deal anymore, and pitchers can usually resume their careers after about a year of rehab.”
“Usually?” Teddy said, suddenly concerned for Noah and, truth be told, for the future of her deal with him. “So, there’s a chance he might not make it back?”
“Well, from what I’ve read and heard, there’s been some disappointment with his performance so far. But apparently the Patriots are going to give him a start on the weekend.”
That eased Teddy’s anxiety a little. “I’m sure it takes time, not just to recover fully but to get your groove back. I don’t suppose that’s the right expression, though, is it?”
“Sounds about right to me.” Then her father’s tone suddenly turned more serious. “I don’t know exactly how to say this, Teddy, but Cade’s got a bit of a reputation—as a ladies’ man, as your grandma used to say. And you’re a real good-looking girl, sweetheart.”
“Dad,” Teddy said with an exasperated sigh.
“I know—it’s none of my business, and I’ve always been over-protective. But you’re going to be in the man’s house a lot, Teddy, and—”
“But when he’s not there, Dad,” Teddy interrupted. “That’s the point of my job. Anyway, why would you possibly think that a baseball hero would even think about hitting on me? It’s ridiculous, and I’m not going to even talk about it.”
That didn’t mean she wouldn’t think about what her father had said, though. Coming on top of what Emma had told her about Noah, Teddy wavered as to whether she looked forward to their next encounter with excitement or trepidation.
