by C. C. Coburn
As Will observed the kid undoing his leg braces, he reflected that he’d had so many more opportunities in life than this little guy. “Maybe I’ll teach him to ski, as well.”
“Will O’Malley! Your reputation as a pied piper is well-deserved,” she said. “Provided his mom agrees, I know Nicolas would love spending time with you. He’s eight, and he doesn’t have a dad, so there’s no male role model in his life. I’ll talk to his mom about your offer when I get the chance. I take him home after therapy,” she explained, “but we don’t usually have time to chat.”
“No hurry. I’m pretty busy this week, organizing a fundraiser at the ranch. But next week I’m free.” A thought occurred to him. “I’m getting some flyers for the barbecue printed up. I’ll drop them over and leave one for Nick. Maybe he can get his mom to come along and I could ask her myself.”
As he showered, Will wondered if the judge ever swam at the rec center. At least here she wouldn’t find him flat on his back covered in Christmas trees or pig kisses.
“HOW WAS YOUR DAY, Mom?” Nicolas asked. “You look kinda frazzled.”
Becky kicked off her shoes and flopped down on the sofa beside him. “Where did you learn a word like that?”
“School.”
Becky smiled absently. Will O’Malley definitely made her feel more than a little frazzled. He made her feel hot and bothered. And after his antics this week outside the courthouse—and that kiss he’d managed to plant on her throat that still made her tremble at the memory—she was equal parts embarrassed, aroused and frazzled. The man’s strangely taciturn behavior in court yesterday still had her puzzled, though.
“Flowers?” Nicolas sniffed the roses Becky had brought home with her from the courthouse. “Pooh! They stink.”
Becky couldn’t help smiling at his typically little-boy reaction. “They might stink to you, young man, but to a woman they smell beautiful.”
“Who sent them? He must be rich.”
Becky smiled to herself. No, he wasn’t rich, far from it…. She caught herself, then frowned. What was she doing, letting herself daydream about a delinquent like Will O’Malley?
“What’s up, Mom? Am I in trouble?”
Becky stretched out her arms. “No, sweetie. Come and give Mommy a hug and tell me about your day.” She kissed the top of her son’s red mop of hair as he curled up on the couch beside her.
But her mind kept wandering from Nicolas’s animated description of his day at school—he’d made friends with a couple of girls—to Will O’Malley and the very flattering thought that he must have worked very hard to pay for the roses. She’d been much too abrupt with him in the florist’s shop, but seeing him there, covered in flowers and that silly pig running amok, had unsettled her.
“And I’m gonna get swimming lessons. Proper ones.”
Becky was pulled from her musings. “Swimming lessons?”
“Yeah, this really neat guy said he’d teach me to swim.”
“He what?” Becky sat up in alarm. Exactly what was going on down at that pool?
“Chill out, Mom. He’s a friend of Jessie’s. They went to school together. He even said that if I get some training, I might be able to swim in races.”
“And how does he know this?” Nicolas would never have the strength to swim races. It was a miracle he could even walk! “I don’t want you talking to strangers. I’ve told you how dangerous it can be.”
“But he’s a friend of Jessie’s. He’s big and strong and everyone at the pool knows him.” Nicolas crossed his arms and sighed. “Mom! Sometimes I don’t think you listen to me.”
“Of course I do, sweetie. I’m just tired and wasn’t concentrating. I’m sorry.” She sat up straighter and looked intently at her son. “I’m all ears.”
“Okay.” Nicolas drew in a breath. “You know how I’ve been writing to Santa and asking him for a puppy? For three years?”
Becky didn’t like where this was going; she didn’t have time enough for her son, let alone a dog. “Ye-es,” she said cautiously.
He crossed his arms, his mouth set in a determined line Becky knew only too well.
“Well, I’m writing to him again this year, and if he doesn’t bring me a puppy, then I’m not going to believe in him anymore!”
Chapter Eight
“I’ve found homes for Charles, Dermott and Edward,” Will informed Miss Patterson the next evening. He scooped up another of her chocolate chip cookies before Edward could claim it. The sheepdog was sprawled across the sofa, and over Will’s lap. Henri sat prissily on Miss P.’s lap, apparently following their conversation. Dermott chewed on a toy. Charles was fast asleep at Will’s feet, while Dugald perched along the back of the sofa, watching Will eat, his wiry head turned in query as if to ask, When do I get some?
“Oh, you dear, dear, boy!” Miss P. said and clasped her hands to her chest. “Tell me, who wants to adopt my boys?”
He broke off a bit of cookie, picked out the chocolate chip, then fed the cookie to Dugald when Edward’s attention was elsewhere. “Well…you know most of the folks at the Twilight Years, since you grew up with them.”
“The Twilight Years?”
Will frowned. Maybe it was time Miss P. should consider moving there herself, seeing she was having trouble remembering things. “The retirement home out near the golf course,” he prompted.
“I know what the Twilight Years is, dear. But I don’t understand how anyone there can adopt Edward. They aren’t allowed pets.”
“No, they aren’t. But I had a chat with the director, who was feeling kindly toward me because of the ironing, and I suggested Edward would make an excellent therapy dog.”
“A therapy dog?”
“A dog that helps people who have disabilities or just cheers them up.”
“I know what a therapy dog is, dear,” she assured him with a grin. “But Edward’s never been trained as one.”
“Doesn’t need it. His area of expertise is lying around doing nothing much. The residents enjoy petting him. That makes them feel good—cheers them up no end—and Edward likes it, too. It’s a win-win situation all around.”
Will had reconsidered moving Edward to the ranch. In doggy years, Edward was a senior citizen and would probably be worn out by three boisterous young girls even if he wasn’t herding sheep. So this morning, Will had taken Edward to the dog-grooming parlor. Then he’d borrowed Matt’s SUV. Matt had grumbled about Will’s borrowing his vehicle yet again and pointed out that it was high time Will got wheels of his own. But once Will explained what he had in mind, Matt had handed over his keys and said, “Good luck.”
After loading Edward into the SUV, he drove out to the Twilight Years, introduced the director to the dog and asked if it would be okay for Edward to visit with the residents while he did a few hours’ ironing and snow shoveling. Impressed with Edward’s grooming and how well he bonded with the residents, the director didn’t need much convincing about the benefits of adopting the old dog for the Twilight Years.
“The residents are making rosters for walking him. He’ll be in doggy heaven over there and they said you’re welcome to visit any time you want.”
Miss P. dabbed at her pale blue eyes. “Oh, what a wonderful home for Edward to go to. He would love it there. You’re such a thoughtful boy, Will. Have another cookie.”
He accepted one and broke off a bit—without chocolate chips—for Dugald. “They asked if I could bring Edward back first thing tomorrow.” He chuckled and rubbed Edward’s ears. “Truth is, I had a hard time getting him away, but I figured I’d better bring him home to make sure you approved of them adopting him.”
She clasped her wrinkled hands to her chest, her eyes filled with tears. “Of course I do, dear. And it would be lovely to visit him.”
“Frank Farquar’s agreed to take Charles. I suggested if Lou had a four-legged companion she might not get up to so much mischief. Frank’s keen to win back Mrs. C. and knows that isn’t going to happen while Lou’s misbe
having.”
She nodded sagely. “Louella is a dear pig, but she’s awfully spoiled. I hope she doesn’t get Charles into trouble, too.”
Will could understand Miss P.’s concerns. Lou had caused havoc around town pretty much from the day Frank’s cousin Hank had given him the runt of the litter. Frank had hand raised Louella and she’d imprinted him as her parent. Now fully grown, she was only half the size of normal pigs. Hence her ability to ride around in Frank’s car, rather than being left at home where she couldn’t cause as much damage. “He’d like to come by and collect Charles later this evening, if that’s okay?”
More tears filled Miss P.’s eyes. Alarmed that the sudden departure of her beloved companions might be too much, Will hastened to add, “He’s promised to bring Charles by to visit whenever you’d like.”
Miss P. nodded her gratitude. “What about Dermott?” she sniffed.
“I met a young family from Boulder while I was walking the boys this afternoon and it was love at first sight. The kids adored him and it turns out the mom grew up with a setter. They can’t wait to make him part of their family.”
“They sound lovely.” She hesitated. “Can I meet them first?”
“Absolutely. They insisted on meeting you, too. In fact—” he glanced at his watch “—they’re coming by in a few minutes.”
If all went well, Dermott’s new family would collect him on their way back to Boulder on Sunday. They weren’t permitted to keep dogs in their rental condo here in town. On future visits, they’d choose dog-friendly accommodations, but for now Dermott would need to stay with Miss P.
“My hair!” Miss P.’s hand flew to her unkempt gray bun.
“Looks lovely,” Will assured her as the front doorbell rang and the dogs started a chorus of barking in various depths of voice.
Dermott was first at the door and as Will opened it, he jumped up on one of the children—a boy of seven. Far from being put off by the big dog’s enthusiasm, the child giggled and hugged Dermott. “See, Mom! Dermott loves me the most!” he cried. Two more children, an older boy and a younger girl, pushed their way inside and hugged Dermott—or at least tried to as the big red dog jumped around excitedly, greeting his new family.
Will made the introductions and excused himself. He still had to find a home for Dugald. Until he’d accomplished that, he wouldn’t consider his job done.
The judge had taken a liking to the little guy and vice versa. Maybe he should drop by the courthouse tomorrow….
THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON, Will strolled down Main Street. Dermott loped along, dragging him forward on one side while Dugald and Henri, trotting as fast as their little legs would allow, were attached to his other hand. As of this morning, Edward had moved into the Twilight Years and Charles was now living with Frank and Louella.
Even with two fewer dogs in tow, the stroll took longer than usual. People greeted him with, “Keep up the good work, Will,” and “I hear there’s a barbecue coming up at the ranch. I’ll be there!” or “Anything you need, Will, just ask.”
With his eye on the courthouse door, Will gave Dermott’s leash a gentle yank to slow him down. Yep, life was looking fine. He was astounded by all the support for Save Our Buildings. Donations were pouring in to the SOB fund. Frank Farquar, in what Will suspected was an effort to spend more time with Mrs. C., came into her shop every day to donate generously. Frank’s contributions alone amounted to a sizeable sum. Will smiled at the vision of Frank stuffing bills into the tin on her counter.
“What are you grinning at?”
Startled out of his musings, Will flashed a grin of welcome at the judge. “I was thinking what a beautiful day it is,” he said, indicating the sunny skies and snow-covered mountains—one of his favorite views from Main Street. “It could only be improved by you adopting wee Dugald.”
The Scottie’s bottom waggled at the expectation of some petting and kind words. “Hello, Dugald,” she said and bent to pet him. His bottom waggled more frantically. “Where are the others?”
“Gone to good homes,” he reported, smiling with satisfaction. “And I’m pretty sure you won’t be seeing so much of Louella in your courtroom from now on.”
Becky glanced up at that, her eyes bright with anticipation. “How so?”
“Frank’s adopted Charles as a companion for Louella. Now that they’re together, she won’t have time to cause havoc wherever she ambles.”
Becky raised an eyebrow. “I don’t want to think about how unnatural that relationship is.” After petting Henri and Dermott, she stood. “I hope what you say is true. It’ll be a great relief not to constantly see that pig.”
Will was transfixed by her green eyes. She wore a tiny frown that didn’t, for once, seem to be directed at him. What could the judge have to worry about? he wondered, as Dermott wound behind her to Dugald and Henri on the other side.
“Oh!” Becky exclaimed as the big dog forced her and Will closer together.
“I think we’ve done this dance before,” he said, grinning.
IT FELT WONDERFUL being pressed against him again. So deeply pleasurable, she had to fight the urge to place her cheek against his chest.
When Dermott tugged on the leash, pulling them closer, she gave in and did just that, closing her eyes with pleasure at the feel of his soft chambray shirt against her cheek, the hardness of his chest muscles beneath it, his oh-so-wonderful masculine scent as she breathed in slowly…and sighed.
“Having fun?”
She blinked and looked up. He was smiling at her in a way that said he knew what she’d been thinking. Wanting to fume at him for catching her, she asked instead, “Are you?”
“Oh, yeah,” he growled, the deep resonance of his voice making her want to lay her cheek against his chest again. As if reading her thoughts, he wrapped his arms around her and brought her into his warm embrace. “I was hoping I’d run into you,” he admitted, and lowered his head to kiss her.
His warm lips covered hers with just the right amount of firmness. Enough that she could pull away if she wished, enough to let her know the next move was hers. Her gloved hands curled into the fabric of his shirt.
He deepened the kiss, his mouth opening over hers, his tongue testing, teasing. She’d dreamed of being kissed by Will O’Malley for too many nights. And this was far, far better than her dreams.
He shifted against her, making her all too aware of how their kiss was affecting him. Shocked, she stepped back. “Mr. O’Malley! What do you think you’re doing?”
“Kissing you. Giving you what you want.”
Awareness flamed her cheeks. He was right; it was precisely what she wanted—his strong arms around her, his warm lips teasing hers, the wondrous feeling of being held by someone…Someone so blatantly masculine. She shook her head to clear it. Every time she got near Will O’Malley, her brain went on holiday. And now a crowd of spectators had gathered, reminding her of the humiliation she’d recently experienced in the same situation. Except today she was tempted to ignore the spectators and let him kiss her some more.
“Why don’t we do something about exploring this attraction we share?” he said.
“We do not share an attraction,” she snapped, trying to regain control of the situation—and of herself.
His cocked brow spoke of his skepticism. “You’re not going to try and tell me this is all one-sided, are you? Because I can assure you, your feelings for me are completely reciprocated.”
She fixed him with a glare. “Get your hands off me,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Okay, on one condition.”
“If it has anything to do with kissing you or agreeing to date you, then forget it.”
“Absolutely nothing to do with our love affair whatsoever,” he said, but before she could interrupt, he said, “Agree to take Dugald. It’ll set Miss P.’s heart at ease to know he’s gone to a good home. Dugald McBride has a lovely ring, doesn’t it?”
Becky sighed. He was incorrigible. Incorrigible
and crazy and infinitely kindhearted. And extraordinarily persuasive. The little dog might be the perfect companion for Nicolas and resolve the Santa problem. “All right, I’ll think about it.”
He hugged her.
“You said you’d let me go,” Becky said, her voice muffled against his chest.
He released her and moved a step away and Becky wished she hadn’t protested so quickly.
As he unwound Dugald’s leash, Becky was regretting her promise to consider adopting the dog. She didn’t need emotional entanglements. She wasn’t usually so impulsive. She was never impulsive! The man was clearly having a detrimental effect on her sanity.
“I said I’ll think about it,” she said before he could hand her the leash. Okay, so Dugald wasn’t the much-requested puppy, but this friendly little dog would give Nicolas something to focus on, care about. Love. In spite of his mini-tantrum last night, when he’d said he wouldn’t believe in Santa anymore, Becky was pretty sure Nicolas already knew the Truth about the man in the red suit.
She crouched down to talk to Dugald. “Do you want to come and live with me?” she asked and rubbed his wiry-haired chin. Dugald’s bottom wriggled and writhed with pleasure. She glanced up at Will. “I can’t promise anything until I’ve checked to see if it’s okay to keep a pet where we live.”
She stood and brushed her hands on her coat. “If I can have a dog, I’ll get in touch with Miss Patterson in the next few days and see what we can work out.” She held up a hand. “Please, Mr. O’Malley. No more public displays of affection, if you don’t mind. Goodbye.”
She turned and stalked off down Main Street, leaving Will grinning from ear to ear.
Chapter Nine
Loud banging on his door woke Will from a nightmare.
Heart racing, he sat up, taking a moment to grasp where he was. His heart rate slowed when he realized he was in Mrs. C.’s apartment and not half-frozen and suffocating in an avalanche.
He stumbled to the door and yanked it open. Matt was there, wearing his ski suit and boots. “I’ve got the morning off. Let’s go skiing,” he said and, without waiting for an invitation, walked into the apartment.
