Fortune's Hero

by Susan Crosby

  “You’re my fourth visitor today,” Garrett said as she climbed out of her car, trying to calm a joyful Abel at the same time.

  “Down,” she said. He jumped up. “Why does he listen to you and not me?”

  “Abel,” he said. The dog looked at him. Garrett made a quick motion with his hand and the dog sat.

  “That’s all it took?”

  “He’ll stay there until I release him. Like this.” He made a different gesture. Abel popped up. “He’s a smart dog. He picked up commands in a couple of lessons.”

  She bent to scratch his ears. “Who were the other visitors?”

  “First one wanted the remaining two kittens once they’re weaned. Second one was looking for her own dog who’d disappeared. Didn’t find him here, but if hers doesn’t come back, she’ll take one of the new dogs. She’ll wait until he’s gone through training. The last one was from a San Antonio television station.”

  “I’ll bet that went over well.”

  He tossed his head. “Right. I got my shotgun out.”

  “You didn’t!”

  “You’re so gullible.” He grinned at her then headed for the barn. “’Course I didn’t. I just threatened to get it.”

  “Because you’re nobody’s headline.”

  “You got it. So, how was your morning?”

  “Nice. Wendy made us some amazing French toast with strawberries.”

  “Do you cook?”

  “I get by. Nothing fancy, but I enjoy it.”

  “What’s your specialty?”

  “Pasta with whatever vegetables I have on hand.”

  He opened a stall. “I put all the horses in the corral. If you’re game to clean stalls, I wouldn’t mind the help.”

  “Sure. Let me greet the rest of the animals first.”

  Soon she grabbed a mucking fork and got to work. Because he mucked twice a day, it took him about fifteen minutes for each stall, which meant he finished two to her one. She sang along with the country music playing from a boom box he kept nearby. He cocked his head at her a couple of times when she sang dramatically loud and off-key, but they didn’t talk.

  “How often does an owner find their lost dog here?” she asked when they were done.

  “It’s happened a couple of times. In both cases, the dogs wore tags, so it was only a matter of making a call.”

  “Do you crate them?”

  “I’ve never had to contain a dog except to quarantine when necessary. Once they pass the vet test and are released, they seem to like it here. Never had any get into big fights, either. Pete puts a stop to ’em right away.”

  “Are you always successful in finding homes for the strays?”

  “I can be persuasive when I want to be.”

  She smiled at that. “I don’t doubt that a bit. Plus you don’t let them go until they’re trained. That’s a bonus for most people.” She rubbed her arm. “It’s been a while since I’ve done physical labor.”

  “Or it’s gonna rain.”

  “That’s it! That’s what it feels like. How’d you know?”

  “It’s in the air, a couple hours out.”

  “So, what else needs to be done before the rain hits?”

  Victoria had spent a lot of time being a team player—in high school, college, on charity committees and at her job. She was a self-starter, but was usually okay with being part of a collegial group. Working side by side with Garrett felt productive and satisfying. He led, she copied. She tried to anticipate what he needed from her as they got the horses back into their stalls, cleaned out the puppies’ and kittens’ pens and put out fresh food and water for the rest of the pets.

  “Rain’s about here,” he said as they left the barn.

  She sniffed the air, acknowledging the distinctive scent. “Maybe I should just head home before it hits.”

  “Your choice. I was just going to offer you lunch. Although I guess we worked through lunch. An early dinner? I’ve still got a couple of portions from Red.”

  “That would be great, thanks.”

  She was surprised to find fresh vegetables in his refrigerator and made a green salad while he heated enchiladas, rice and beans. They sat at his small dining table in the kitchen nook and looked out the window into his back acreage, filled with brush starting to green out for spring, and tumbleweeds. It was stark but not ugly.

  He offered her sweet tea. It was a perfect meal. Once again they didn’t talk much as they ate, and it was okay with her. Comfortable. The rain started, noisy and cocooning. She didn’t mind it a bit.

  She leaned back when she was done, pressing her hands against her stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

  “No dessert?”

  Her interest perked. “What kind?”

  “What would make you feel not too stuffed?”

  “Pie.”

  “What kind?”

  “Pie.”

  “Well, then, you’re in luck.” He set their plates in the sink. “Blackberry pie. Want coffee?”

  “No, thanks. And just a sliver.” She wondered where he’d gotten it. The pie plate looked like it came from someone’s kitchen, not store-bought.

  “Ice cream? Whipped cream?” he asked before he brought her the plate.

  A few fantasies came to mind at the image of whipped cream. “Just plain, thanks.”

  The first jolt of thunder hit when she took her last bite, followed by a crack of lightning. Then the rain started pelting down, loud and hard.

  He jumped up. “Thunderstorm. Hadn’t expected that. I need to make sure everyone’s inside and shut the barn doors.”

  “I’ll help.”

  He eyed her briefly but thoroughly. “It won’t take me long. No sense both of us getting drenched.” He grabbed a rain jacket then rushed outdoors.

  Victoria followed, deciding to watch from the porch. She’d never seen a Texas storm—except the tornado, of course. When she pushed open the screen, it hit Garrett in the back.

  “What’s wrong?” she shouted, as thunder rumbled.

  He turned around holding a puppy in his arms. “It was on the rocking chair, along with this note. It’s wet. I can’t read all of it. Just take it inside for now.”

  She gathered up the frightened, shaking puppy, who looked a little older than the ones in the barn. She glanced at the note then. “Wait! Garrett, wait a second. It looks like the note says, ‘I can’t keep the pair of them. Their mama died.’ There’s another puppy.”

  Garrett cursed a blue streak the likes of which Victoria hadn’t ever heard. It fascinated her, all those words strung together like that. “You go tend to the rest,” she called out. “I’ll put this one in the house and hunt for the other.”

  “No, I’ll do it.”

  “I won’t melt in the rain, cowboy. Just go.”

  He hesitated, then he said, “There’s a flashlight on the kitchen counter and a jacket by the front door. Look around the perimeter of the house first, through the lattice. It couldn’t have gone far, and it probably wouldn’t venture into the open.”

  By the time she was armed with flashlight and jacket, the rain had intensified to sheets. Thunder cracked and pealed. Lightning flashed in the distance, but was inching closer. She shined the flashlight at the foundation, behind the shrubs that lined the front of the house. If a puppy cried out at all, she couldn’t hear it above the pounding rain. Rain soaked her jacket, weighing her down and running into her boots, filling them and making it hard to lift her feet.

  Still she kept looking, panicking a little more each second, hoping she wouldn’t be too late. She’d noticed yesterday that Garrett had been digging along the perimeter of his house, as if he was going to plant more shrubbery. It wouldn’t take too de
ep a hole to trap a puppy. If it filled with rain…

  She was on her hands and knees calling, “Here puppy, puppy, puppy” for the hundredth time when Garrett dropped to his knees beside her.

  “Go inside,” he shouted. “I’ll take over.”

  She shook her head. She had to find this puppy. She had to. It had become critical to her. “I’ve checked both sides of the front. You take the right side. I’ll go left.”

  He didn’t argue but scrambled up and away. In time they met at the back of the house. The thunder and lightning had moved on, their noise in the distance now. The rain continued, although not as hard or loud. She heard a sound that froze her in place. Then she heard it again, coming from nearby.

  “Garrett!” she yelled. “Over here.”

  He slid on the mud, ending up next to her as she shined her flashlight toward the sound, under the raised foundation. Fortunately the lattice only covered the front and sides of the house, but it left the back open for the puppy to tuck himself farther under. Now he was mired in mud, trying to dig his way out, his cries breaking Victoria’s heart.

  “Move,” Garrett said, shoving her, trying to dig an escape route for the dog but only creating more mud. He shifted his body parallel to the house, but the puppy remained out of reach.

  Victoria ripped off her jacket and copied him from the other side. “I’m smaller,” she said. “I can get under there.”

  “Stop! You could get trapped in the mud,” he yelled.

  She didn’t say anything. She inched her way closer, then suddenly felt Garrett’s hands on her legs, his fingers wrapped around her calves, holding her tight. “Come here, baby. Come on,” she urged the puppy. His eyes shined back when she spotlighted him, but he didn’t, or couldn’t, move.

  “Push me closer,” she shouted to Garrett, keeping a hand out. Her clothes sucked mud as he pushed her a few inches, until she could grab the pup by the scruff of its neck and drag him to her. “Got him! Pull me out!”

  Out she came, mud coating her. She didn’t care one bit. She shook some of the muck off her shirt then wrapped the dog in it.

  Garret put his arm around her and guided her to the back door, which led into the laundry room. Her mud-filled boots were hard to walk in, weighing a couple of pounds more than usual. Once they were inside, he told her to stay put, moved past her then quickly returned with towels. He yanked off his jacket and pulled his shirt over his head. Then he took the puppy from her, wrapped him up and held him close to his chest.

  “Drop your clothes in the set tub, then you can go shower. I’ll rinse everything before I dump it all in the washer.” He turned his back to her, giving her privacy.

  Getting the boots off was the hardest. It was like her feet were stuck in cement. Huge sucking sounds accompanied her efforts, then she was free. She dragged her clothes off and tossed them into the open tub, added her bra and panties, then wound a towel around her body.

  She started to pass by Garrett.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I’m exhilarated. My adrenaline is sky-high. We saved him, Garrett. We saved him.” She rubbed noses with the puppy then pulled Garrett down for a kiss, mud and all.

  “I’ll put some clothes inside the bathroom door for you,” he said, touching foreheads, a surprising depth of emotion in his voice. “If you dig around in the cabinets, you’ll find a blow-dryer, I think.”

  “Thanks.” She hurried down the hall, anxious for a warm shower, even more anxious to get back to Garrett and the puppies.

  She’d just climbed into the shower when she heard the door open. “Here you go,” he said.

  Want to join me? The words stayed trapped in her throat. “Thanks,” she said instead.

  She didn’t linger to dry her hair, knowing he needed to shower, too. She put on the shirt he’d left, a soft flannel plaid, and rolled up the sleeves. His sweatpants were way too big around and long, and his shirt covered her almost to her knees, so she just wore that. The fact she was naked underneath made her feel vulnerable but also excited.

  Victoria found Garrett in the kitchen, still shirtless, gently bathing the puppy while its littermate romped across the floor and back. An old-fashioned towel rack held her bra and panties.

  “I figured you wouldn’t want them in the wash with your jeans and all that dirt,” he said, trying to contain the wriggling puppy who probably hadn’t seen a bath before. He eyed her lingerie. “Pretty in pink, princess?”

  “I own every color of the rainbow, cowboy. What’s your favorite?”

  “Red.”

  “Predictable. Black is probably second.”

  “You’ve got me figured out, I guess.”

  “Just going with the odds.” She felt her nipples hardening at his interest, was aware of straightening her spine some, arching her back a little at the direction of the conversation. “I’ll bet you sleep in the buff.”

  “You’d win. You? Tell me you don’t wear some old sorority house T-shirt, or former boyfriend’s football jersey.”

  “I’ve never quite managed being comfortable sleeping naked. What if there’s an emergency in the night and there’s no time to get dressed?”

  “How many times have you had an emergency in the night?”

  She felt her cheeks heat. “Never.”

  All he did was smile.

  “Do you really think it feels different?” she asked.

  “I can’t speak for anyone else.” He settled the puppy in a clean towel. “You did good out there, Victoria. Better than I could’ve. Here.” He put the bundle in her arms. “I need a shower.”

  She watched him go, thought she heard him say “A cold shower,” but wasn’t sure. She sat at the kitchen table and dried the ball of fluff, then set him—her?—on the floor with its sibling. They pranced around, their tiny nails clicking against the wood.

  Thirsty, she poured two glasses of iced tea and carried them into the living room, keeping an eye on the puppies until Garrett returned.

  When he did, he was wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants, for the first time not looking like a cowboy, but comfortable…and ready for action.

  Victoria was ready, too.

  Chapter Seven

  The cold shower didn’t work. Garrett took one look at Victoria seated on the couch with her legs tucked under her and knew he was a goner. She was naked under his shirt, her breasts moving whenever she did. Plus she was brave and caring—and not nearly the princess he’d originally assumed she would be.

  Because she kept her gaze locked on his, he avoided the couch and headed to the kitchen. “The pups are probably starving.”

  “Do you think they’re weaned?” she asked after a slight pause.

  “I doubt it, or else the person who dropped them off wouldn’t have brought them here. I figure they’re about four weeks, given their behavior. I’ve got some bottles and formula. I’ll have to get some puppy food tomorrow. Would need some soon anyway for the other pups.”

  “May I feed one?” She’d followed him into the kitchen. The pups bounded in, too, whimpering.

  “Sure.”

  He’d had to feed pups and kittens before, so he had a stock of appropriate bottles and formula. Soon they were settled on the floor with towels and cushions, the puppies sprawled on their bellies, drinking noisily. Victoria never stopped smiling, especially when her pup wriggled closer, its tail wagging. After they’d emptied their bottles, they both fell asleep. Garrett made a bed in a cardboard box for them, one they couldn’t escape. They didn’t even open their eyes when he set them inside.

  “Would your other mama dog nurse them, do you think?” Victoria asked, taking a seat on the sofa again and picking up her glass. “She’s only got four puppies, after all, and room for more.”

 
He sat in a chair across from her and took a long drink himself. “I thought about trying, but she’s a small dog. She couldn’t produce enough milk right away. These two can be weaned soon probably. Plus, they need to be checked by the vet before I introduce them to any of the others.”

  “Did you take the new dogs to the vet?”

  “He comes here. It’s easier. Yeah, he checked them out early this morning. By the way, the one you rescued is a boy. The other’s a girl. Want to name them?”

  “Dee and Dum,” she said right away. “Dum’s the boy, of course, for getting himself stuck like that.”

  “I’d say he was adventurous and not content with the status quo.”

  She laughed. “Of course you would. Do you name all the animals that land here?”

  “The dogs for sure, so they’ll respond to commands by name. It’s part of their training.” He looked at his mantel clock, surprised it was only eight-thirty. He’d thought it was at least ten. It was still raining hard, although the thunder and lightning had moved on. “Guess I’m not going to make it to Red to pick up my meals,” he said. “I checked the phone lines a while ago. Nothing.”

  “I checked my cell. No signal. Won’t they guess that the storm kept you from coming?”

  He nodded. Now, what to do about Victoria? “I don’t want you out there trying to drive home,” he said finally. “Flash floods can happen in an instant, and it’s already muddy and wet.”

  “That’s okay with me. I want to help feed the puppies during the night.”

  “I don’t expect they need to eat during the night anymore. How will your family react to your not coming home?”

  “They’ll figure it out. I’ll check my phone for service now and then, but they’ll know what happened.”

  “I don’t have a guest room. Only my bedroom and an office.”

  She patted the couch. “Here’s just fine. I’m easy.” She smiled then, her eyes darker than usual and heavy-lidded—which could be arousal or exhaustion.