Paws for Love, A Novel for Dog Lovers

by Dana Mentink

  “Well? Where is he?”

  “I don’t know. He had to run an errand, he said.”

  “If he doesn’t show in another five minutes, people will start to leave,” she hissed.

  “He’ll be here,” she assured Vivian. I hope.

  Clutching the speech in her hands, she caught sight of Bill in the back row, Fiona in his arms. He looked altogether younger, a wide smile on his face as he jutted his chin at her. Had Catherine booked a later flight so Fiona could experience the festival? His green eyes stood out in the crowd—so green, she knew, they would live in her memory long after she’d left Albatross.

  Four minutes, then five. A trickle of sweat began to bead on her brow. Where was Lawrence? Had he run away for more centering? Bolstering?

  Jack caught her attention with an airy wave as he lounged against the side wall of the inn. Somewhere in the crowd, Todd Bannington probably sat, waiting to see if his investment was a sound one.

  Five more minutes rolled by.

  Vivian took her by the elbow. “We have to stall. You have his speech. You’re going to have to say it.”

  “Me? Oh no. There’s no way I’m getting up in front of all these people.”

  “You have to.”

  “What about you?”

  “You’re his assistant on this film. You have credibility.”

  Misty’s body began to shake. “I don’t give speeches.”

  “It’s time to start.”

  “I can’t. I just can’t.”

  Vivian grunted. “Fine. I’m done with this whole thing. I’m going to lie down and wait for all these people to leave once Lawrence disappoints them.” She began to make her way through the ever-growing throng.

  Misty looked at her shoes, pressing as far away from the crowd as she could. The conversations were getting louder now, the sound crashing in on all sides as the clock ticked away the minutes.

  Lord… Misty wanted to pray that God would immediately throw the side door of the Lady Bird wide open to disgorge Lawrence for his anxious fans. Failing that, perhaps a fire alarm or an earthquake to jolt the people away, somewhere, anywhere but their current location only a measly few feet from her. But the rest of the prayer did not come out. Misty’s eyes locked on Bill’s. He gave her another smile, and she recalled how it felt to let her light shine just a bit through the cracks. To step out of herself to try to bless the town that had twined its way around her heart and the people who had done the same. Was there just a little left to sparkle? One more ounce of light, of courage, to shine out of Misty Agnelli?

  Knees trembling, she climbed onto the dais and faced the microphone. The crowd went still, a phenomenon more terrifying than their chatter. Every eye was laser-locked on her, blazing down on her hiding spot under the bed.

  Lord, help me, she finished silently before she gripped the microphone in a sweaty fist.

  “G-Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” she squeaked. “I am…uh, Lawrence Tucker’s violin tutor.” She saw Nana Bett elbow the man next to her, face wreathed in an enormous grin. “I…um, since Lawrence is delayed, I thought I c-c-could read you part of his speech before he arrives.”

  She thought she heard a groan from the throng. Her breath was coming in desperate pants. I’m going to faint. Right here, in front of all these people and Nana. In front of Bill and Jack and movie lovers from far and wide.

  Sparks danced in front of her vision, and she was almost ready to bolt when she caught Bill’s gaze again, so calm and encouraging.

  You’re doing great, she could imagine him saying. He gave her a thumbs-up.

  The paper had gone limp and crinkled in her death grip. She smoothed it out. “So let me start by telling you a f-few interesting things you may not have known about Lawrence Tucker.” She’d made it to number three when she realized she could no longer decipher Lawrence’s handwriting.

  Where was that fire alarm? The friendly earthquake? She tried to swallow, but her throat had gone completely dry. “When will he be here?” an elderly lady called from the second row.

  “Uh…well, I am not completely…”

  And then, as if cued by the maestro, Lawrence appeared, strolling jauntily past the crowd. Jellybean shot up to the platform, leaping into Misty’s arms with such velocity she almost dropped him. Lawrence swept up to the foot of the dais with Tinka under his arm and a loaded canvas bag hanging from his shoulder.

  Thank You, God, breathed Misty.

  “Tinka!” Vivian shouted, running to take the dog from Lawrence. “You found her,” she said, with a look of astonishment for Lawrence. “How?”

  “Well,” he boomed grandly. Then he paused, sighed, and continued in a voice that was not at all like a stage icon, but very much like a regular man who wanted to help a woman he cared a good deal about. “I heard she was missing, Viv, and I know how much she means to you. Jelly and I have been out all night searching for her.”

  Vivian blinked very hard and pressed her lips together. She seemed to notice the bag at the same time Misty did. The fabric writhed and undulated.

  “What is in that bag, Lawrence?”

  With the legendary swagger back in his voice, he said, “You’ll never guess, ladies and gentlemen. So let me tell you a story you won’t believe.”

  Twenty-Two

  Bill stood with Fiona still on his shoulders to watch Lawrence spin his tale. The man had a gift for gab—that was undeniable. When the audience was about half crazy with wondering, he reached into the bag and began handing the tiny, wriggling things to an astonished Misty. Three puppies in total, the roly-poly creatures eliciting oohs and aahs from the crowd.

  Vivian’s mouth dropped open. “Tinka? Those are Tinka’s puppies?” Her eyes narrowed into slits. “And we have Jellybean to thank for these mongrels?” Her question was lost in the rush of the crowd as Lawrence stepped off the platform to greet his fans personally, wisely keeping one of the adorable pups in his possession. The only thing more irresistible than a celebrity, Bill thought, was a celebrity with a newborn puppy.

  Bill went quickly to Misty. “I have to go to the shop,” he said. “You were fantastic.” He planted a kiss on her cheek. “Come see me later, okay? I need to tell you something.”

  She nodded. “I guess I’d better go reunite these babies with their mommy. But aren’t they funny looking?”

  He agreed. The torsos were broad and sturdy, the legs and heads small, giving the dogs an altogether awkward construction. Something about their build was familiar, but seeing the people streaming outside toward his shop, he didn’t have time to mull it over. He was knee-deep in customers for the first time ever, and he wasn’t going to waste a moment of it.

  “Come on, Fee,” he said, lifting her into his arms. “Are you ready to go sell some chocolates?”

  “Uh-huh.” She clasped his ears. He thought she looked particularly adorable today in the yellow overalls he’d picked out with nearly matching yellow bows for her hair. One more reason for people to stop into Chocolate Heaven. She’d have a few minutes to enjoy the festivities, and then Miss Dina had agreed to watch her for the day.

  Not one minute after they entered the shop, the bells clanged, the door opened, and in came the flood he had been praying for.

  It wasn’t until after five o’clock that they were able to close up the shop when the crowds finally thinned. He would be up all night refilling the candy supply, but it didn’t matter. They’d done a good day’s sales, and there was promise for the next day too and the upcoming weekends. It wasn’t a miracle cure for his economic woes, but it would be enough to buy a new conching machine and help pay the insurance that was coming due. After Gunther untied his apron, he retrieved Lunk from the backyard just as Misty entered the shop, followed by Lawrence and Vivian. Tinka nestled in Vivian’s arms, Lawrence carried two puppies, and Misty had the smallest one. Jellybean trotted along at the edge of the gaggle, sniffing at the puppies and eyeing Lunk warily.

  “You’re going to keep these pups,”
Vivian was saying, “since it was your ill-behaved dog who fathered them. Don’t think you can escape your responsibility.”

  “It wasn’t Jellybean,” Lawrence said, and though his tone was haughty, Bill thought he caught a glimmer of mischief in the man’s eyes. “But Jelly and I will endeavor to help you with your brood. I intend to stay in Albatross after the shoot is over. Retire here, even. It’s close to my friend Ernest, and I like the scenery,” he said, smiling at Vivian.

  She gasped, her cheeks pinking. In an instant, Bill thought she morphed into a high school teen. “Oh. Okay.” Then she started in again. “But don’t think your dirty dog is going to come around and father any more litters.”

  “As I said, it wasn’t Jellybean. I am a responsible pet owner. He’s been fixed. They are no progeny of his.”

  Gunther walked with Lunk through the door. The dog perked up, droopy body energized as he waddled over to Tinka.

  Gunther cocked his head. “More energy than he’s shown in…” His words trailed off as the realization that was also dawning in the collected group began to materialize. “You don’t suppose…” Gunther started, and then he clapped a hand to his forehead. “Lunk!” he hollered. “That’s why you were busting out all the time?”

  “What? What?” Vivian said.

  Lawrence’s smile got even broader. “It seems, Vivian, my love, that Jellybean is proven innocent in fathering those pups.”

  Her horrified gaze traveled down to the lump of a dog at her feet. “Lunk?”

  Lunk slurped a wide pink tongue across his fleshy lips. Bill was sure he saw a look of pride on the mutt’s face.

  Gunther groaned. Vivian slammed out of the shop, Lawrence following with laughter bubbling out of his mouth. Bill and Misty looked at each other, bursting into loud guffaws.

  “I did not see that one coming,” Bill said.

  “Me neither. For once, it wasn’t Jellybean who turned out to be the naughty one.”

  After Gunther lugged Lunk to his car and carted the errant father home, Bill walked Misty into the backyard, where they watched Fiona searching for rabbits as the sun ebbed low in the sky.

  “I was really proud of you up there, giving that speech this morning.”

  Misty groaned. “It was terrifying. The scariest thing I’ve ever done.”

  “I know. That’s why it was magnificent. You were terrified, talking in front of a big group like that, and you did it anyway. That’s courage if I ever saw it.”

  She shrugged, biting her lip and looking down. He didn’t blame her for being hesitant to talk to him, considering how he’d forced her away before. He’d put the distance between them, and she was doing her best to preserve it.

  Fiona approached and tugged on Bill’s pant leg.

  “Snack time?” he asked.

  She nodded. Hoisting her up over his shoulder elicited a giggle as they returned to the shop and Bill sliced an apple for Fiona.

  The silence lingered until it was broken by the sound of claws scratching against the front door.

  Jellybean looked in quizzically, barked, and then shook his ears before taking off again. Ten seconds later, Lawrence jogged by in hot pursuit.

  Bill laughed. “So much for giving up his naughty reputation.”

  Misty agreed. After they fell into another too-long silence, she asked, “Do you need some help making more chocolates?”

  “Are you offering assistance? I thought you were going to hightail it out of town after you delivered Lawrence.”

  She nodded. “Yes, but I could help for an hour or two. I think they almost have my car uncorked, and Lawrence is back for Jellybean, so I guess everything is in order.”

  “Almost.” His pulse accelerated.

  “What’s left?”

  He picked up Fiona’s storybook from the table where he’d left it that morning, and suddenly his nerves turned to ice.

  “I…I wanted to tell you that Catherine has decided to let me raise Fiona.”

  Misty’s whole face lit up with the intensity of a shooting star. She threw her arms around him, sending his heart beating even faster. He hugged her close, allowing his joy to mingle with hers.

  “What made her change her decision? Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’m so, so happy for you.” She squeezed his shoulders, and he held her to him until she pulled away, tucking her hair behind her ears.

  “Really. I’m just thrilled for you, Bill.”

  And he could see that she was. He read the love and kindness warming her face, clear and true, like a torch shining in the darkest of nights. “Thank you. I wanted to say thank you for all you’ve done, for who you’ve been to me and Fiona. We…I haven’t been good to you, not in the way you deserve. I am sorry for that.”

  She let him go, looking away. “No need to apologize. You’re welcome for whatever I’ve done. Anyway, I should be going if you don’t need help with the chocolates.”

  “Wait. I want to say one more thing.” His palms grew sweaty and his mouth went dry at precisely the same moment. Battling down a sense of panic, he opened the book to the second page and put his finger under the first word. “This part is Fiona’s favorite.”

  Her eyebrows were crimped in puzzlement.

  What are you doing, Bill? You’re about to make an idiot of yourself.

  He cleared his throat. “Barnyard Cow,” he started. “Is her…here to stay. W-Won’t you come and…” He struggled, feeling that same desire to quit. She was thinking he was foolish, dumb, an illiterate oaf stumbling through a kid’s book. But if God could make him a father, He could certainly give him courage enough for this. Swallowing hard, he pressed his finger to the page and forced himself back across the landscape of letters he’d been practicing for days. “Won’t you come and p-play today?”

  He finished. Two pages. Twelve words. A mere step for most, a journey for Bill Woodson. He continued to stare at the pages, afraid of what he would see in her lovely brown eyes. Finally, he looked up from the warped book.

  She was smiling, tears pooling. “Bill, you did it,” she whispered. “You were reading.”

  “Just a few lines,” he said, feeling a surge of pride so strong it nearly choked him. “I can only do the first and second pages, but I’m getting better.” He reached up and wiped the tear that had trickled down her cheek. “I’m going to do it, to keep going, because I want to be a good father and a good partner.”

  “To whom?”

  He held his breath. “You.”

  The light caught her glow of surprise. “Me?”

  He nodded.

  “But…but you said…”

  “A lot of dumb stuff,” he finished, grasping her by the shoulders, allowing his fingers to travel up to brush the soft skin of her neck. “I was embarrassed, humiliated…all the things that come from wounded pride that prevented me from seeing what God put squarely in front of my clueless face.”

  She gaped. “But…me?”

  “You. I love you, and I want us to be together forever.”

  “But I’m awkward and…”

  “And patient and shy and courageous and loving and faithful. And you are the square peg I want in my life and Fiona’s, if you’ll have us.”

  Her mouth was a round O of surprise. He adored her, the curve of her cheek, the earnest gleam of a faithful woman struggling just as he did but with so much more grace for all her clumsiness. And she couldn’t see it, not at all.

  “I love you, Misty,” he breathed, fingers trailing through her hair.

  “But you’re…”

  “Stubborn and prideful and the worst reader on the planet. And I probably don’t deserve a woman like you, but I’m gonna greedily grab you for my own if you will accept me because God made us both to shine, and I can’t do that if you’re not in my life.”

  “Bill,” she said, holding up a palm, “you need to stop talking.”

  He did, closing his mouth and readying himself for whatever she had to tell him.

  “Bill Woodson,” she said
after a slow exhalation. “I love you and Fiona, but there are complications.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, I thought I might give a try at giving some violin lessons, you know, in person.”

  He beamed. “We’ll find you a spot here in Albatross or wherever. Ernest will be thrilled.”

  She was not smiling, which scared him most of all.

  “The real problem is…there’s another guy.”

  His stomach fell. A guy. Jack. Of course. Jack wanted her back.

  “Oh,” he said, puzzled when he caught a glimpse of the sparkle in her eyes.

  “He’s kinda hairy, funny looking, and probably just as destructive as his adopted Uncle Jellybean, who cannot get enough of him.”

  “What?” He blinked. “Misty, you’re killing me here.”

  She laughed. “I told Vivian I would take one of the pups.”

  Bill felt his world expanding, bursting with a light and love that blazed through his heart. “I’m a dog guy. You know I am.”

  She pretended not to hear. “I think I’m going to name him Truffles, and we’re a package deal, so if you want me, you get Truffles.”

  He pulled her close and kissed her. “Oh yes, ma’am. I’ll take Misty with a side of Truffles.”

  “I love you, Bill.”

  “I love you too, Misty.”

  She melted into his arms and they kissed again, listening to the music of the ocean and the faraway barking of a naughty terrier.

  About the Author

  Dana Mentink lives in California, where the weather is golden and the cheese is divine. Dana is a two-time American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year winner for romantic suspense and a Holt Medallion winner. Her suspense novel Betrayal in the Badlands earned a Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice Award.

  Besides writing, Dana busies herself teaching third grade. Mostly, she loves to be home with her husband, two daughters, a hyperactive mutt, a chubby box turtle, and a feisty parakeet.

  Visit her on the web at www.danamentink.com.

  Sit, Stay, Love