“I’ll do that,” he said. He was beginning to think there was a conspiracy to throw Stephanie at him or him at Stephanie. It seemed to include everyone but Stephanie.
“That’s Braveheart,” she added in an almost accusing voice. It seemed everyone knew Braveheart, as well as the fact he was staying in Josh’s cabin.
“So it is,” he said without elaborating again. And then he relented. “I have temporary custody.”
She tipped her head in question.
Clint remembered what Josh had told him about the town. Incredibly nosy. He had received confirmation today.
“I’ll tell you, just you,” he said in a low conspiratorial voice. “Josh and his boy went camping. Stephanie left her dog with Eve while she’s somewhere doing search-and-rescue exercises, and Eve said she needed help. Now,” he said, “I think something else might be afoot, but I haven’t a clue what it might be.”
The nurse chuckled. “I wouldn’t be surprised,” she said. “Well, I have to get back to the office, but I’m glad to see you up and walking.”
How long would it take for his conspiracy theory to circle around town? He smiled and continued on. He passed the drug store and looked across at the city hall. Two police cars were parked in front. Why did a town this size have its own police department? Crime couldn’t be rampant in a town called Covenant Falls.
A few minutes later, he met two men who welcomed him and a young lady who tried to flirt with him. “I’m Beth,” she said. “Beth Malloy. I work for Stephanie as her vet tech.” She glanced at the dog. “That’s Braveheart,” she said.
For all the attention Clint was getting, he might as well be leading an elephant down the road rather than a shy dog. “It is,” he admitted.
“But he won’t go with anyone but Eve and Nick. I can’t...” She stopped suddenly, apparently afraid of admitting a failure in the canine area.
“I seem to be the exception.”
“Wow.”
Wow, indeed, he thought. He still didn’t know how or why he had gotten roped into this, and why it seemed to be the most interesting news in Covenant Falls. Except, maybe, that he had been kicked by a cow.
“Anyway, welcome to town,” she said. “It’s nice to have someone new here. I’ve been meaning to bring over some cookies.”
He didn’t know what to say except maybe she should ask her folks first, but that might be hurtful. She was way too young for him. Pretty but young. Not-past-twenty young.
He held out the box. “I already have more than I can possibly eat,” he said. “Maude just gave me this cake. Mrs. Byars brought over some brownies. Some cookies landed on my doorstep. Your mayor filled my fridge with all kinds of food. But thank you for the thought,” he added gently. “And thank you for the welcome.”
“Is Braveheart going to stay with you?”
“No. No. Just today and tomorrow.” He suspected now that Eve feared he might be lonely. She was right. But it was something he would have to get used to. And it was no one’s fault except his own.
Braveheart—no, Bart—nudged him. “It’s time to go, but it was nice meeting you, Beth. Give my best to Stephanie when you see her. You might tell her my foot has healed.”
“I heard. Not from Stephanie. She doesn’t say anything about anyone, but...”
“It’s all over town,” he finished for her. He didn’t add he already knew that.
“I can drive you to the cabin,” she offered.
“Thanks, but I really need to walk and so does Braveheart.”
She nodded, and he turned and headed in the direction of the cabin again.
His pace quickened. He’d tired of being the center of interest. And community interest was not just centered on him, but also on poor Bart. Did everyone know that much about every one of Eve’s dogs? Josh had warned him, and Stephanie had certainly hinted at it, but no way had he figured interest would be this intense. Of course, part of it was the dog. He couldn’t believe the dog preferred the name Braveheart, as well-intentioned as the naming might have been, to Bart. He chuckled. Apparently, Braveheart was as notorious as he was. Why? Who knew? He didn’t know much about small towns. He’d been born in Chicago, and spent his first eight years there before being shipped off to boarding schools.
Now he had a lot of questions about Covenant Falls. Why hadn’t it grown when it had so much natural beauty? Why did Stephanie move to the middle of nowhere and keep the former vet’s name for her practice? And, most of all, why did he want to know, when he was staying only a short time? A few weeks at most. He couldn’t live off someone else indefinitely.
It was that pesky curiosity of his. It always got him in trouble.
He was hailed by several residents of Lake Road as he neared the cabin. He returned the waves. Mrs. Byars was sitting on her porch. An older man sat next to her, a cane at his side. A romance there, maybe.
There were several fishing boats on the lake. He thought about calling out, asking about the fishing. But he didn’t want to have the same conversation he’d had several times in town. Bart needed his refuge, and he wanted to taste the cake, to determine for himself how good Maude’s Diner really was.
He opened the screen door to the porch and unlocked the cabin door. Bart dashed directly to his water dish, then went to the window where Clint had placed the dog bed. He sprawled in it and stared outside.
“Looking for Nick?” Clint asked. The dog stared back at him.
Sighing, he peeked into the box Maude had given him. There was at least a third of an entire cake in it. He cut a large slice for himself and a tiny one for Bart. He wasn’t sure it was good for the dog, but just a bite shouldn’t hurt him. Bart licked Clint’s hand in appreciation and quickly disposed of the treat. Clint took his slice and went outside to the swing. And, yes, the cake was as good as advertised. He went back inside and got a second piece. Bart followed him back to the porch.
It was good having the dog with him. Company with few complications and fewer demands. He scratched Bart’s ears and was rewarded with a moist kiss on his hand. It was going to be hard to see him go. He was startled at how hard.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
STEPHANIE TOOK A hot shower in her hotel room and fell into bed late Saturday night. She was beyond tired. Not getting any sleep last night hadn’t helped, and the session tonight on canine first aid lasted far longer than she’d intended. The handlers were attentive and eager for as much information as she could give them.
That was good. The bond between handler and dog was close. Absolute trust was essential. The handlers here, she thought, had what it took to be in search and rescue.
She scratched Sherry who promptly turned over on her back and waited for a tummy rub. Stephanie hoped Stryker was behaving himself at Eve’s house. There was no one she trusted more to take care of the dog.
She read for a few moments. It usually helped when she was too tired to sleep. The words blurred together. The earlier, anonymous phone call haunted her. She’d called her friend George and asked him to check it out. He said he would and told her then that Mark’s current wife was divorcing him. Was that why someone from Boston had called?
And then there was Clint Morgan. His face wouldn’t disappear in the night. He made her laugh. His quirky humor had affected Eve and Josh, too. She knew they liked him, and he had so easily made himself at home.
Nick had been won over also, but that was to be expected. He was only ten and liked nearly everyone. He practically worshipped his new dad, and Clint was a veteran like him. Not only a veteran but a helicopter pilot. Braveheart’s show of support had probably only added to his hero worship.
But she was not ten years old and should know better. She thought of Rick, her first boyfriend and husband. He’d been the bad boy every girl thought she could tame. All he needed was a good woman. Wrong. Then there was th
e disastrous second marriage.
At least she’d had some sweet memories of the first.
And now her nice, uncomplicated, organized world had been turned upside down in the past few days, first by her reactions to Clint Morgan, then the phone call that brought back all those feelings of helplessness and fear.
Everyone couldn’t be wrong about Clint, especially Josh who was skeptical of people in general. But then, half of Boston thought Mark a saint. He gave to good causes, was a patron of the symphony, a big donor to political figures. However, no one knew what occurred inside his expensive, impeccably neat house. She didn’t know anything about the wife who was now divorcing him, but she had to think he was trying to destroy her, as he had tried to do with Stephanie.
She tried willing herself to sleep. She had a full morning of additional evaluations, these ones shorter in length for less-experienced handlers and dogs, then she wanted to attend the first-aid session.
The task, though, would be almost as difficult: victims were hidden in caves, barrels and holes to make it difficult for the dogs.
Then she would head back home with an equal amount of dread and anticipation that she couldn’t quite tamp down.
Drat it. Sleep continued to elude her. Images of two men dominated her mind. She gave up, picked up the book again. A romantic suspense. The heroine needed to find money stolen by her dead husband or her kidnapped son would die. She had thought her husband died in an accident, only to find her foundation crumbling beneath her when, instead, she discovered he’d been a thief and had been murdered.
The story hit close to home, but at least this fictional heroine would win in the end.
Sunday morning
CLINT ROSE WITH the sun. Sometime during the night, Bart had sidled his way up onto the bed again and was snoring.
“Okay, feel at home,” Clint said to the sleeping dog.
He didn’t know whether it was allowed at the Manning house or not. He’d never shared a bed with a dog before and found it strangely comforting. He was no longer alone. For a brief time, anyway. It was pretty pitiful that the void was filled by a dog.
He got out of bed. He’d slept unusually well. Maybe it was the fresh air, or maybe the long walk, or maybe Bart. The more he looked at the dog, the more he felt Bart was just the right name for him. He wasn’t the courageous Scottish hero, and a name wouldn’t change that, although Clint understood the sentiment behind it.
Bart was just a dog trying to adjust to a life without violence, pain and fear. Much like some people. And it wasn’t easy for a human who at least knew some of the whys. A well of empathy filled him. He gently rubbed the dog’s ears, waking him. Bart groaned with pleasure. Then he licked Clint’s hands, and Clint felt he’d just been given a trophy.
“Come on, Lazybones,” he said. “We’re going for another walk this morning. We are going to attack that mountain behind us. Your Josh said it’s safe enough if I’m careful, and I have you for assistance.”
He fixed breakfast for both of them. An omelet for him. Dog food topped with an egg for Bart. He was halfway finished when Eve called with an invitation to dinner with her in-laws. “You’ll like them. He’s the town pharmacist and owns the drug store. Mom’s the one who made the strawberry pie. I expect she’ll bring something. She always does. It will just be the four of us. Pot roast.”
Home-cooked food. Sounded great, and he was tiring of his own company. But he didn’t want to give up Bart. Not yet.
“What about Ba...Braveheart?”
“Why don’t you bring him with you? How is he doing?”
“Making himself at home. He’s eating good.” Damn, he was going to miss the dog.
“Good. I’ll see you in a few hours. We’ll send someone to pick you up. Oh, and it’s definitely casual dress.”
“Looks like we have an invitation,” he told Bart who tipped his head in question. “Of course, it’s your home so you won’t be a guest.”
He took another swig of coffee. “Let’s go exploring,” he said.
He got the leash, and Bart stood still while he attached it. Then he filled a large travel cup with the rest of the coffee and headed toward the mountain. It was early Sunday, but a couple of men were already fishing from a row boat. He returned their wave and started up the path that wound its way up the small mountain that led to larger ones.
Aspen leaves were turning to gold, and although the morning was warm, a breeze made the walk more than tolerable. With Bart at his side, he followed the path until he reached the lookout Josh had mentioned and he gazed down over the valley below. The houses were miniature from this view. He saw several church spires. The streets were nearly empty. A pretty, peaceful town, the kind that were in old movies.
Before coming to Covenant Falls, he hadn’t known they still existed.
He sat on a rock and finished his coffee. What in the hell was he doing here? He didn’t fit in. He’d never fit into anything but the army. Band of brothers. They had that right. God, how he missed them.
He waited until he heard church bells, then started down. He would read for a while, then change clothes and wait for his ride.
It was about thirty minutes after four when a silver car turned into the driveway. Clint was waiting on the porch, strumming the guitar. Bart was still his shadow, reluctant to leave him for a moment.
“Come with me,” he said to Bart as he stood, tucked the guitar inside the cabin, locked the front door and opened the screen door. Maybe it was a good thing Bart was going home. He was getting altogether too attached to the dog.
The man got out of the driver’s seat, approached and grasped his hand. “I’m Jim Douglas, the pharmacist in town. Eve was married to my son, and my wife and I consider her our daughter. Glad to meet you, son. Welcome to Covenant Falls.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m Clint Morgan.”
“I hear Josh has already put you to work, and I see Eve foisted Braveheart on you. Beware of my daughter-in-law,” he said with a huge, affectionate grin. “She’s very good at snaring helpless victims in her causes.”
Clint nodded. “I’m discovering that, but maybe you’re wrong about Braveheart. Eve said it’s time for him to go home.”
“I’m rather shocked she let you have him even for a couple of days. She’s very protective of Braveheart. She’s the one who found him nearly dead.” He held the car’s back door open for Braveheart so he could jump inside. “He sure seems to have taken to you.”
“We kinda took to each other.”
“You a dog person, then?” Jim Douglas asked as started the car.
“I guess I’m a Bart person.”
“Bart?”
Clint thought fast. “Nickname. Just dropped the middle between ‘B’ and ‘art.’”
“Bart, huh? I like it. Don’t know if Nick will, though. He thought up the name.”
“I hear he went camping.”
“He’s been wanting to go since Josh first arrived here. He’s a Boy Scout and really missed doing things with dads like the other kids. Now he can brag about going camping with an Army Ranger.”
“He’s a lucky kid.” Clint meant it. When he was eight, he had wanted nothing more than to be a Scout and go camping with his father. Never happened.
In minutes, they were at the Manning home. Eve came out to meet them. “I’m so glad you could come,” she said. “Come meet my mother-in-law. She took over the kitchen.”
Clint opened the backseat for Bart who stepped down hesitantly. He walked over to Eve and sniffed her outstretched hand, then returned to Clint’s side.
Her eyes widened, then she gave him a smile that belied her next words. “I might sue you for alienation of affections. What did you do to Braveheart?”
“Bart,” corrected her father-in-law and the dog looked up at the sound of his name. “Mr. Mor
gan here shortened the name. It fits him.”
Clint shrugged. “It just kinda slipped out.”
“Whatever you did or said, it did wonders. I haven’t seen him this...content. He’s even smiling.”
“He’s a good dog,” Clint said.
“Well, come on in. Dinner’s nearly ready.”
When he entered, the other dogs, including Stephanie’s other dog, Stryker, greeted him as a long-lost friend. Oddly, Braveheart seemed to have no problem with Stryker. Clint thought Eve had left Bart with him because he was afraid of the other dog. He decided not to say anything.
The pot roast practically fell apart, and Clint could have eaten the entire bowl of gravy on his own. Instead, he limited himself to a huge portion over mashed potatoes.
Conversation was good, too. He liked Abby, Eve’s former mother-in-law, or were in-laws still in-laws after the death of a spouse? It really didn’t matter because the affection between the three of them was very real. Jim Douglas regaled him with stories about Covenant Falls and how it was founded in the mid-1850s by a Scottish trader. Then he turned to local politics. Eve had just been re-elected mayor, Jim said with as much pride as if Eve were his own birth daughter. Clint envied their closeness.
“And your family?” Jim asked.
“Scattered,” he said to avoid any other questions.
There was another pie, this time filled with chocolate that melted in his mouth. But it was the warmth around the table that touched Clint, that made him ache for what he’d missed.
“We have to go,” Jim said regretfully. “I have to go to the store and do some paperwork. Clint, I’ll take you home.”
“You two go on,” Eve said. “I’ll drive him home.”
“The dishes,” Abby protested.
“Clint can help me with them.”
The older couple left, and Clint and Eve worked together as if he’d known her for a long time. “I noticed,” she said, “that Brave—Bart hasn’t left your side.”
“We kinda understand each other,” he said as he dried the last dish.
Tempted by the Soldier Page 10
