As soon as she got home to Texas—no, as soon as she got on the plane in Richmond...actually, as soon as Zoey brought Casper back to Ryka, she was going to call Cam and tell him she loved him. She wouldn’t even get out of the car first.
Zoey practically floated the rest of the way down the hall, imagining scenarios of Cam waiting for her at the airport in Austin and running into his arms just like in the movies.
“Cleo—stop it!”
The words brought Zoey down to earth.
The tone registered first. She was used to hearing the quiet, firm voice the trainers and handlers adopted when working with dogs, the one she’d tried to emulate but not always successfully.
“Sit! Cleo! Get back here!”
To hear Martha lose it was just...just unthinkable.
So was a dog who wouldn’t obey, especially a dog who had a whole alphabet soup of championship designations in front of her name.
Her name. Martha had called the dog Cleo. She’d been speaking to Cleo, Alexandra’s failure of a sister. She must have escaped from wherever they’d been keeping her and run back to the kennel.
No wonder she was a failure if that’s the way they talked to her all the time.
Like Kate talks to you.
Zoey shook the thought away. That was in the past, but she still felt a whole lot of sympathy for poor Cleo.
“Sit!”
The harshly worded command made Zoey flinch. She pushed open the door, deciding she’d give Cleo some love. There was Casper, still panting eagerly. Martha, who shot a quick glance over her shoulder when Zoey came in, was now in the other run holding onto a squirming dog’s collar.
That would be Cleo. Wow. To Zoey, she looked exactly like her sister, but there must be some crucial difference that made one an überchampion and the other a nobody.
Zoey scanned the room for Alexandra, hoping to see the two sisters together before they dragged Cleo away. But there was only one other dog in the room besides Casper.
“Where’s...” She trailed off. Something was wrong. All the little niggling things she’d ignored or dismissed as dog-people quirkiness returned.
The strange reaction of Sheryl, the woman who’d greeted her. Kate’s stunned surprise at Casper being invited to breed with the great Alexandra of Thebes.
And that was another thing. Zoey had expected to be blown away when she first saw Alexandra in person, but she wasn’t. This was Merriweather’s star, their queen. She’d have been pampered within an inch of her life. No one would yell at her because no one would have to. Even if her personality changed because she had doggie PMS or something, they’d coddle her.
She observed Casper, trying to claw his way through the barrier that kept him from a female in heat—the female Martha was trying to calm.
He had a silkier coat. How could a dog who’d been traveling for days, who’d romped through dirty, slushy snow and had been washed in a motel bathtub look better than the best Afghan hound in the country?
Even if she weren’t show ready, Alexandra should look better than the dog Martha was petting. The dog she’d called Cleo.
“Where’s what?” Martha asked.
Alexandra. The dog who we’re supposed to be breeding with Casper. “A restroom I could use.”
Was that relief on Martha’s face? “There’s a public restroom near the front office. You can leave the papers there, too.”
Zoey barely heard her. She murmured something and retreated into the hallway. Now what?
14
CAM HAD STOPPED in Ellensburg to get gas and clean up before driving on to Mabton. Zoey had helped him arrange the beer in the presentation box, so that was done. He allowed himself to think of her one last time before changing his focus to the upcoming meeting.
He’d shaved, changed his shirt and now stared at himself in the restroom mirror. He looked tense. He shouldn’t look tense. He shouldn’t be tense. But he was.
Cam moved his shoulders around and tried to channel a little of Gus’s casual amiability. Not too much, or he’d come across as fake, and nothing seemed more desperate than obviously fake casualness.
He wasn’t desperate; he just wanted this a whole lot.
Cam spread his arms wide, as he’d seen Gus do a million times, and quickly dropped them. That was horrible.
Shaking his head, he shrugged into his jacket and picked up his bag just as his cell buzzed.
Gus. Cam pushed open the restroom door. He’d wanted to channel Gus, not talk with him.
“You’re up early,” Cam said.
“Have you had your meeting with him yet?” Gus asked.
“No.” Cam didn’t have to ask who.
“Cancel.”
“No.”
“You don’t need his money, Cam. Someone has made an offer on those tanks at the Beer Barn.”
Cam abruptly stopped walking. “Who?”
“They won’t say.”
“Cash?”
“Apparently so. They’ve asked if we want to counter.”
“How much?”
Gus barked a laugh. “More than we’ve got.”
Which was the point of meeting with Richard. “I need a number, Gus.”
“It’ll just depress you. Tell you what. I’ll be seeing the lads tomorrow and we’ll have a little chat after they’ve cleaned up from the tour.” Gus chuckled. “They’ll be much more agreeable to kicking in money to hire some college kids to help you out.”
Gus still wouldn’t admit that Cam required more than a few hours a week from college kids, but Cam wasn’t going to argue with him now. “Sounds like a plan. Listen, I’m heading out to the farm. I’ll talk with you later.”
Cam checked his watch. He wanted to call the owner of the Beer Barn, but it was five-thirty in the morning there. Maybe he’d have an opportunity to try later.
He was stowing his bag in the SUV when a motor home pulled up to the gas tanks. Merriweather Kennels was painted on the side, along with the portrait of an Afghan dog that looked just like Casper. Alexandra was arched in quotes above the picture and beneath it was what Cam figured was her official name, prefaced by a bunch of letters that reminded him of the initials that trailed doctors’ and lawyers’ names. They seemed proud of them, but nobody outside the profession knew exactly what they meant.
Zoey had said the dog was hot stuff and she must be if she got to travel around in her own motor home.
A man got out and started pumping gas. Moments later, a woman emerged from the side door followed by a white dog in a navy-blue coat and hood embroidered with “Merriweather’s Cleopatra of Thebes.”
“She’s antsy,” he heard the woman say. “I’ll walk her around.”
Cam watched them jog in that trot Zoey had used with Casper, but he could tell the woman was much more practiced than Zoey. When they came within a few feet of him, Cam said, “They’re beautiful dogs.” He couldn’t help smiling as he added, “I’ve recently become quite a fan.”
“This one will make a fan out of anyone.” The woman smiled at him. “Would you like her autograph?”
“I—what?”
She laughed and took a card from her pocket. “I always carry these when I’m with her.”
It was a smaller version of the picture on the side of the motor home, but this one had a paw print with Alexandra in a loopy script.
How often had Cam heard that name in the past few days? “I’ve heard a lot about her. I was hoping to get to see her.”
“And here she is!” The woman gazed proudly at the dog.
Wait a minute. Cam had been about to explain about bringing Casper to the kennel. “You mean here? Now? This is Alexandra?”
“Yes.” The woman nodded, misinterpreting his stunned expression. “This is the Alexandra of
Thebes.”
“Wow. I—I thought she was at the kennel.”
“We just left there.”
Left? That was quick. If he’d known, he would have waited for Zoey.
“Were you going there today to see Alexandra?” the woman asked.
“I’d hoped to. I have another stop first.”
“You’re lucky you caught us here. You would have missed her otherwise, and you’ll never meet another Afghan hound as fine as she is. I’m sorry I can’t take her coat off for you, but I’ll show her if you’d like.”
“That’d be great.” Cam watched as the handler paraded the dog back and forth.
“She has more Grand Champion points than any other Afghan hound in the country,” the woman informed him when they came to a stop and she positioned the tail to curl over the dog’s back.
Honestly? Coat or not, Cam couldn’t see much difference between Casper and this dog.
“She’s going to get more points next week, aren’t you, pretty girl?” She rubbed the dog’s hooded head.
“At the big show?” Cam asked.
“The Moorefield, yes. Are you going to be there?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Cam didn’t know anything about the dog show or where it was, but he remembered Zoey saying that Casper was going to be there. She’d also said that Alexandra wasn’t going to be there, giving Casper a good chance of winning.
“You should really try. I’m not sure how much longer Martha will continue to show her, but by the time she retires, Alexandra will have more points than any other dog of any breed.” The woman spoke reverently. “The ultimate Grand Champion.”
“Could I take a video while you walk her again?” He whipped out his phone. “If I end up buying one of these dogs, I want to remember what the very best looks like. Has she ever had puppies?”
“Oh, don’t set your sights there.” The woman gave him a patronizing stare. “They’ll only go to professionals, and there is already a waiting list.”
“Probably out of my price range, too.” Cam held up his phone while the woman trotted with Alexandra. “Why does her coat say Cleopatra? Is that her official name?”
“Oh.” The woman stopped and glanced down. “I didn’t notice. Cleo is her littermate and travels with her.”
“Is she a show dog, too?” Cam lowered his phone but kept recording.
The woman shook her head. “Regrettably, no. That dog doesn’t have the temperament, but Alexandra shows much better when Cleo is with her. Cleo keeps her calm. Alexandra hasn’t lost since we started keeping the two of them together.”
“She’s not with her now?” Cam peered around, looking for yet another large, white, showy dog.
“No. She’s in season and is being bred. The last time we bred Cleo, it upset Alexandra so.” She reached down and stroked the dog. “And with the show next week, we don’t want her to get agitated.”
“Why would she be upset?”
“All the dogs are upset at the way Cleo carries on. She’s a real bitch in every possible way.” The woman lowered her voice. “She bit the last stud.”
“Ouch.” Cam involuntarily moved his hand to cover his own studly parts.
“That was so unfortunate.” The woman sucked her breath between her teeth. “She panicked during the tie and, well, let’s just say it was very costly, both financially and because it’s been impossible to find any breeder willing to risk a quality stud with her.”
Cam started to sweat. Hours ago, he wouldn’t have had a clue what the term “tie” meant, though he could have guessed.
“Because of the biting?” he asked.
“That and the other injury.”
Cam felt himself shrivel. “What other injury?”
The woman hesitated, belatedly wary. “I’d rather not go into details.” She shortened Alexandra’s leash.
“I would. I want to go into details.”
“Sheryl!” The man waved her over.
“It’s time for us to leave.” She trotted Alexandra over to the motor home.
Cam followed.
The woman yanked open the door. “Up,” she ordered the dog.
“Sheryl?” Cam tried to appear nonthreatening when he wanted to choke the information out of her. “The...the other dog didn’t die, did he?” Cam couldn’t believe how hard his heart was pounding—not only for Zoey, but for Casper, too. Who would have figured?
“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “No, no. But he was unable to perform after that. I can assure you, though, the stud’s owners were generously compensated for the unfortunate accident.”
If Cam were injured to the point where he couldn’t “perform,” it would be a hell of a lot more than “unfortunate.”
Then Sheryl obviously remembered that she was supposedly talking to a potential buyer. “I guarantee that Merriweather Kennels is a first-rate breeding facility and we’ve taken steps to ensure that an incident like that won’t happen again. In fact, if you’re looking for a dog to show, Cleo’s puppies will have impeccable bloodlines.”
“But not Grand Champion bloodlines.”
She shook her head. “No.” She stepped away, eyeing him carefully. “But don’t discount the importance of temperament and training.”
Cam deliberately relaxed his posture and smiled his you-sexy-thing smile, even though it probably didn’t come off very convincingly. “Thanks so much for talking with me. I’ve learned a lot.” He held up a hand and backed toward the SUV. “Good luck.”
Why had he said that? It appeared Merriweather Kennels made its own luck.
He didn’t even close the car door before aiming his phone at the motor home for some final video as it drove off. Then he punched in Zoey’s number.
His call immediately went to voice mail. The batteries. She must not have plugged in the phone yet. Cam tried twice more to make sure, and then searched for the kennel’s number.
When someone finally answered, he started to ask for Zoey but changed his mind and asked for Martha Merriweather. He didn’t want Zoey to have to leave Casper—if she was with him—and he instinctively knew Martha wasn’t going to leave her dog alone with Casper.
Or had that been her plan all along? Take out the competition? Palm off Cleopatra’s puppies as Alexandra’s? It’s been impossible to find any breeder willing to risk a quality stud with her.
Any breeder who knew the story. Cam bet Zoey’s sister didn’t. And anyway, if she did, she would have believed Casper was breeding with Alexandra.
“I’m sorry,” said a voice in his ear. “Mrs. Merriweather is unable to come to the phone. May I have her return your call? Or is there something I could help you with?”
“Does she have a cell phone?”
“Not with her. She prefers not to be disturbed while working with the dogs.”
Cam didn’t want to leave a warning message for Zoey with a kennel employee. “I’ll call back later,” he said and dropped his head to the steering wheel.
It’ll be okay, he told himself. Zoey could handle it. She was watching Casper, and obviously Martha Merriweather was highly motivated to make certain there wasn’t a repeat of Cleo’s last breeding attempt.
Cam started the car and pulled onto the highway toward the hops farm. Was it possible that Zoey’s sister had misunderstood? Anyway, if Casper did breed with the wrong dog, that was between the two owners. It wasn’t his responsibility. It wasn’t even Zoey’s responsibility. She’d delivered the dog. She’d done her part. She’d succeeded.
But what if Casper were injured right in front of her? What if Zoey were injured trying to protect Casper?
Cam wanted to warn her. Warning her wasn’t the same as helping, was it?
But if he went back to the kennel now, he wouldn’t be able to meet with Richard, and from what Gus ha
d told him, Richard had more in mind than having a beer named after him. It sounded as though Richard wanted to take over. That couldn’t be right. Cam really needed to meet with him.
But could he live with himself if Zoey were hurt? Was the brewery more important than her safety?
No.
And that’s when Cam turned the car around.
* * *
AS ZOEY REENTERED the kennel area, she still hadn’t decided what to do.
Martha was waiting for her. The runs were empty and the barrier behind the doggie doors to the outside had been raised.
“Where are the dogs?” she asked.
Martha gestured for Zoey to follow her. “I let them into the small play yard together. If they get along and she indicates a willingness to stand, then we’ll bring them back inside and let Casper try to mount her.”
“You let them out together when I wasn’t here?” All Zoey’s instincts were screaming at her that something bad was going to happen. A disaster.
Don’t think. Follow the plan. Kate’s voice. But Kate wasn’t available. And the plan had been for Casper and Alexandra to mate.
Martha laughed a fake little trilling laugh. “They’ve got to get together sometime.”
If Zoey were going to confront the older woman, now was the moment. “No, they don’t. That dog isn’t Alexandra, is it? I heard you call her Cleo. That’s Alexandra’s sister.”
Martha blinked three times. Zoey counted. “Of—of course it’s Cleopatra.”
“This is Casper from Ryka Kennels. He’s here to breed with Alexandra of Thebes.”
“Alexandra!” Another fake laugh. “I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding. There are many, many more, er, established breeders who’d pay quite a lot to provide the sire for a litter from Alexandra.”
Zoey believed her. That’s why Kate and Ryan had waived the stud fee and absorbed who knew how much in expenses just to get Casper here. They’d wanted a puppy from the litter. They’d wanted the prestige. There had been no misunderstanding. This was good old-fashioned bait and switch.
“Casper is already a champion, and he’s just getting started. My sister would never have put him through this trip for a hookup with a no-name.” Maybe she would have been more diplomatic if Martha hadn’t been staring down her nose like Casper at his most disdainful.
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