Evan grinned sheepishly and waved. The man with Alex turned to look and leaned forward to say something to her. Alex gave a dismissive wave and focused her attention back on her date. Evan assessed the guy—nothing to get excited about, from his perspective. By the time Evan had finished his coffee and dessert, curiosity got the best of him. He couldn’t explain it to himself, but he had to meet this guy, find out about Alex’s type of man.
Evan paid for dinner and left a generous tip. There went most of his winnings. He stood and walked toward Alex’s table. Her eyes widened as she watched him approach. He noted she looked sort of horrified, but he could not stop himself. “Alex, so nice to see you. You look lovely tonight, all dressed—up.”
A flush blossomed on her cheeks, something he found oddly appealing. “Uh, thank you.”
He looked from Alex to the man who sat staring up at him. “Hi. I’m Evan Whiting.”
Before the man could respond, Alex said, “This is Doctor Howard Dennis. Howard, Evan is new to Cade’s Point. He’s Amy Whiting’s grand-nephew.”
Howard stood and shook Evan’s hand. “Nice to meet you. We all loved Miss Amy. So sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry to say I didn’t know my Aunt Amy very well. But I’ve heard a lot of good stories about her. I’m moving into her house.”
“Really? I’ve always been fascinated with Primrose,” Howard said. He motioned to a vacant chair. “Would you like to join us for a drink?”
“Oh, no. I don’t want to intrude on your date.” He turned his gaze to Alex.
“It’s not a date, just dinner.”
The look on Howard’s face told Evan the man thought otherwise. Poor schmuck.
“Well, it’s….” Howard began.
Alex finished for him. “It’s nice to see you, Evan. Have a good evening.”
“I will. You two enjoy your dinner.” He turned to Howard. “I’ll probably need to find a local physician. Do you have a card?”
Alex choked on the wine she’d been sipping.
“I’m not a physician, so to speak. I’m a vet.”
“A vet?”
“Veterinarian. If you have any animals, though….” Howard fished a business card from his wallet and handed it to Evan. “Be sure to stop by.”
“No. No animals.” The waiter appeared with their salads and Evan stepped out of the way. “Nice to meet you, Howard. I’m having work done on the house now, a little sprucing up, but feel free to stop by some time if you’d like a look around. Give me a couple of weeks.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks.”
Evan grinned at Alex. The death-ray stare she fixed on him threatened to burst him into flames.
“Well, that was fun,” he said as he left the restaurant. He made his way through the casino and lobby, to the valet. As he drove south to Cade’s Point, he pondered his earlier behavior. What was it about Alex Ramsey that made him want to behave like an infatuated fifteen year old? He didn’t like the woman. Not that much. She had a chip on her shoulder and had given him only grief since his arrival in Cade’s Point. But even before he’d viewed her nearly naked in a bath towel, he found himself drawn like a moth to a flame. And he knew how that scenario would end. Poof!
It was late, but he decided to stop by the house and see how the work was coming along. He pulled into the drive and was amazed when his headlights swept across a manicured lawn. A welcoming light burned on either side of the front door. He got out of the SUV and walked up onto the porch. No flutter of wings and rush of birds. The nest had been moved, as Mark had promised.
Evan turned his key in the front door and reached inside for the switch. An overhead chandelier in the entry hall blazed with light. He barely recognized the place. No cobwebs. No musty odor. Only sparkling light fixtures and gleaming hardwood floors. In the great room, he studied the painting of Amelia Whiting that hung over the fireplace, searching for a family resemblance. He saw eyes like those of his father. He had his mother’s eyes. But the longer he looked at the painting, the more he felt a connection to Aunt Amy and to this house. He imagined its former grandeur when the Whitings first occupied Primrose Plantation. He knew that most of the land for miles in every direction had been part of the plantation, much of that sold off over the years. He wasn’t particularly proud of the knowledge that his ancestors had been slave owners, but history was history.
On Monday, the upstairs would be cleaned and ready for habitation. He was eager to get settled and start the work on the restaurant. But a moment later his hands shook as doubt filled his mind. Was he crazy thinking he could live in this small town where the business district was only two blocks squared? Even crazier was the notion that he could open up a restaurant and make a go of it here. He’d seen the clientele at the grill and the kinds of fare they favored. Nothing on that menu even hinted at French or Italian. Well, maybe the French Dip on a hoagie bun.
The emptiness that sometimes threatened to swallow him whole filled his gut. He had made a decision and invested everything in it. There was no turning back now. If he failed, he failed. Wouldn’t be the first time, and it probably wouldn’t be his last.
As he locked the front door, he saw the shadow of something racing across the front lawn. A moment later that something plowed into him, knocking him onto his backside. A cold, wet nose pressed against his and the dog slurped the side of Evan’s face.
He pushed at the animal. “Get off me, you mutt. Go away.”
But the dog only paused and whined, then scratched at the front door.
Evan stood and grabbed for its collar, tugging it back. “Stop that. You’ll ruin the wood.” He stared down as the dog turned its head and sniffed at his crotch. “Hey. You’re Walter, right?”
The dog’s ears perked up and its tongue lolled out of the side of its mouth. It barked once as if answering.
“I don’t like dogs. I thought I made that abundantly clear the other day. And you really should stop with the crotch-sniffing. It’s impolite, not to mention unsanitary.”
The dog wagged its tail and whined.
Evan sat down on the top step and the dog sat beside him, leaning into his shoulder.
“I know Aunt Amy may have liked you and let you in the house, but she’s not here any longer. I live here now, and I don’t have pets. Don’t take it personally. I’m sure you’re a fine dog.”
Walter fidgeted and whined, his eyes fixed on Evan.
“How’d you get all the way out here, anyway? You’re at least six miles from home.” Evan stood, brushed his hands along the back of his pants and pulled his keys from his pocket. “Okay, time to go now. Go on. Shoo.”
Evan walked to the SUV and Walter followed, taking hesitant steps. When Evan started up the vehicle, the headlights shone on the dog that stood, looking toward Evan and back at the house. Evan blew the horn, but the dog didn’t budge. Just stood there, whining.
“Suit yourself, Walter.” Evan put the SUV in reverse and backed down the drive. But before he turned, he glanced up to see the dog still standing as if unsure of where to go or what to do. “Oh, hell.” He got out, opened the back hatch and called, “Come on, Walter. I’ll take you home.”
The dog raced down the drive and leaped into the back of the open hatch.
Evan returned to the driver’s seat. “Don’t slobber. Don’t shed. Don’t pass gas.”
When he reached the shelter, he found the place locked up tight for the night. Walter, who had made his way to the front passenger’s seat, looked as forlorn as a dog could look.
“Now what?” Evan muttered.
Walter settled down on the seat and closed his eyes.
He couldn’t leave the dog sitting there on the sidewalk. He could wander into the street and get run over. Was that really a danger? There wasn’t a car in sight in any direction. The town was as closed up as the shelter.
Evan turned and headed for the grill and his rented room. “Okay, Walter. Here’s the deal. One night only. You don’t bark. You don�
��t pee on anything. You don’t sleep on the bed. You don’t chew on my shoes. I’ll bring you back to the shelter first thing in the morning.”
The dog rolled his eyes upward at Evan as if to say, “Is that all?”
“I hope Jack doesn’t charge an extra fee for pets,” Evan muttered as he pulled into a space beside the outdoor steps. He walked the dog until Walter relieved himself, then led him up the steps and into the bedroom. Evan tossed a blanket from the foot of the bed onto the floor. “Your bed.”
Walter sniffed the blanket, turned a few times, and dropped down with a low groan. He was asleep before Evan undressed.
It took Evan a bit longer to relax. He kept seeing Alex in that damned green dress, her eyes flashing like emeralds, that hint of cleavage showing, the way she tossed her head back to laugh. Then he remembered she did that for Howard. Her expression when Evan approached could have withered an entire field of flowers. He punched his pillow into submission and tried again to clear his head. This time when he closed his eyes, it was Alex in her bath towel who visited his thoughts.
Walter snored from his place on the floor at the foot of the bed.
“Whatever you do, Walter, don’t get mixed up with a female. They’ll only give you grief and sleepless nights.”
Chapter Six
Alex arrived at the shelter to find Evan pacing the sidewalk, Walter walking behind and making every turn on Evan’s heels. She couldn’t suppress the smile that stretched across her face. “Good morning. You seem to have a shadow.”
“Your dog showed up at my house last night and no one was here to take him. I was going to tie him to the fence, but I figured you’d have the Sheriff after me if I did that.”
“And you would be right.” She bent and ruffled the dog’s ears. “Good morning, Walter. Were you off looking for Miss Amy again?” She glanced up at Evan. “Walter is quite the escape artist. We should have named him Houdini, but we only discovered his talent after your aunt went into the nursing home. He keeps looking for her, poor guy.”
“I’d appreciate it if you found a way to keep him secured.”
“We do our best, Mr. Whiting. I assure you it’s not my goal to have Walter or any other animal roaming the streets.” She drew in a breath and pressed her lips together, trying to hold back anger. “Weather permitting, we leave some of the dogs outside in the kennels at night. Walter has managed to tunnel his way out of one kennel and to slip the lock on another. You don’t have to worry, he always finds his way back here, or I find him at the cemetery.”
“The cemetery?”
Alex unlocked the door and ushered the dog inside. “Walter was Amy’s companion. She adopted him from us and he used to take off and travel the four miles to the nursing home looking for her. Now he heads to the cemetery and lays on her grave.” She swallowed. “It’s both sad and admirable, his dedication.”
“Yes, well…. Where is my aunt buried, exactly?”
“Magnolia Grove. I can take you there and show you where the grave is if you give me ten minutes. Walter would probably enjoy a visit anyway.”
“I’d appreciate that. Thank you.” Evan inspected one of the chairs in the lobby before sitting.
“Come on, Walter. You need breakfast before we go out. Unless he’s already eaten?” she asked Evan.
“No. We skipped breakfast. I was eager to get him back here.”
Alex nodded and shoveled a scoop of kibble into a bowl. Walter ate hungrily, then lapped at his water.
Evan’s stomach rumbled.
“Can I get you something?” Alex asked.
“No kibble for me, thanks.”
She grinned. “I was thinking more along the lines of a muffin.” She held up the bag she’d carried inside. “I brought two.”
After muffins and coffee, she gave directions to a few volunteers who had arrived. Picking up her car keys, Alex asked, “Shall we?”
“Maybe I should follow you,” Evan said.
“Up to you, but it’ll be easier if you ride along.” She snapped a leash onto Walter’s collar and led him out to her car. Evan followed, apparently deciding to ride with them.
“Why are you being nice to me?” he asked. “I get the feeling you’re not that happy with my presence here.”
Alex had wondered the same thing. “Southern hospitality,” she retorted. She settled Walter on the back seat while Evan climbed into the passenger’s side. “When was the last time you saw Amy?”
“When my grandfather died, fifteen years ago. She came to Pennsylvania for his funeral.”
Evan’s cell phone rang and he answered. Alex heard only his end of the brief conversation in one and two words. He ended the call and returned the phone to his pocket. “Sorry. Business.”
Alex’s phone began to bark and she pulled it from the console.
“Ms. Ramsey, this is Warren Pinkney. I represent the estate of Amelia Whiting.”
Alex shifted a sideways glance toward Evan. “Yes.”
“Now that Ms. Whiting’s nephew is in town, I’ve scheduled a reading of her Last Will and Testament tomorrow morning in my office at ten a.m. Will you be able to be present?”
“Me? Uh…sure. But I don’t understand….”
“Amelia was quite fond of you and named you in her Will. I can’t give the particulars right now.”
“Oh, of course. I’ll be there. Thank you.” She set the phone back into the console and turned onto a narrow road leading to the Magnolia Grove Cemetery. Glancing at Evan, she said, “Sorry. Business.”
Walter danced across the back seat from one window to the other, whining.
“We’re almost there, Walter. Hold on.” Alex parked and grabbed Walter’s leash before Evan could open the car door. The dog lunged from the vehicle, tugging Alex behind as he headed for a grave marker that read Whiting.
*
Seeing his family name on the grave marker brought Evan up short. He hadn’t considered that he’d find more of his family buried here, including his great-grandfather, John Barlow Whiting and his great-grandmother, Sally Cade Whiting. Cade, as in Cade’s Point? He had never felt much of a generational connection, perhaps because his father was at odds with Evan’s grandfather who had migrated from the south to settle in eastern Pennsylvania following World War II. His grandfather told him stories about growing up in the south, but Evan always thought the old man was spinning tales.
His eyes settled on the marker of Amelia Cade Whiting. He wished he’d taken the initiative to get to know his aunt and more about his family history.
“Are you okay?” Alex asked.
He nodded. “Tell me about her.”
“She was a great lady. One of the most selfless people I’d ever had the pleasure to meet. You probably know some of her history, that Amy remained at home to provide care after her mother had a debilitating stroke. And after her mother passed, Amy stayed with her father until his death. She never married and, even though she had a college education, she didn’t pursue her dream of becoming a teacher. Although in her own way, Miss Amy taught many of us valuable lessons.”
“You knew her pretty well?” He glanced at Alex and saw the sheen of tears.
“She was like a mother to me, and a best friend. I don’t know where I might have ended up without Amy in my life. She loved animals and supported the shelter from the start. Amy adopted Walter when we brought him in as a skinny, flea-infested stray.”
Evan shuddered as he looked down at the dog lying prone on the grave of his former mistress, looking forlorn but content.
“Walter saved her life, did you know that?” Alex gazed up at him.
“What did he do?”
“Amy had the stroke and fell in the kitchen, broke her hip. She couldn’t get to the phone and, well, you saw how isolated her house is. Walter went through one of the front windows and stood down at the end of the driveway, barking like mad until someone passing by stopped. He was a bloody mess with cuts everywhere, but he raced back toward the house, barking the w
hole time. The driver followed, saw Amy on the floor and called for help. Walter lost so much blood, the vet wasn’t sure he’d make it.”
“Doctor Dennis?”
“No, he wasn’t here back then. Doc Newsom stitched Walter up and sat with him all night after giving him a transfusion from another dog at the clinic.”
“Aunt Amy went right from the hospital to the nursing home?”
“Much against her will.” Alex grinned. “She was the kindest person I ever knew, but also the most stubborn. I think that served her well, though. She was a formidable presence in this town.”
Evan sighed. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to know her. When I graduated from high school, she sent me a check for five thousand dollars to help with culinary school. I’d barely spoken with her when she came to Grandad’s funeral, but she remembered my wanting to become a chef. She was the only person in the family who didn’t scoff at that.” Feeling emotion rise, he cleared his throat. “I should have brought flowers, I guess.”
“Now you know how to get here, you can bring them any time. You’re welcome to bring Walter along. He loves these visits with Amy.” Alex knelt and stroked the dog’s head. “Come on, boy. Time to go.”
She tugged on the dog’s collar and he stood with some reluctance.
“If he knows she’s buried here, why did he come to the house looking for her?”
“He’s a dog. He knows, but he doesn’t really. The only thing Walter knows for sure is that Amy isn’t with him. So he goes to all the places he’s been with her to try to find her again. It’s pitiful at times. People should be half as faithful.” She grinned at Evan. “He’ll no doubt turn up on your doorstep again. I’ll give you my card with my cell number. Call me and I’ll come and get him. Unless you intend to keep him.”
The dog moved toward Evan and nuzzled his hand. Reflexively, Evan scratched the animal’s ears. A distant memory came roaring into his head. He was eight years old and his friend’s dog had had puppies. When they were ready to be adopted out, Evan had carted one of the puppies home, hoping he’d be allowed to keep it. His mother smiled, but said they’d have to ask his father. Edward Whiting was adamant that no dog was going to live in his house or “crap all over the yard.”
Rescued Page 5
