“You didn’t call anyone? Like a counselor? Or a doctor?”
“No. A lot of it was threats, so mostly I was scared when John was home. Over time, there were so many things that set him off, it was like I was tip-toeing around my own house. After that last fight, he disappeared. I don’t know where he slept that night, but the next day he got on a plane back to Iraq. I cleaned up the apartment and then wrote a Dear John letter that he never got. After he died, it came back to me, along with his own letter saying more or less the same thing.”
Clay readjusted himself, slumping down on the bed so he could look at her face. Pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, he said. “I don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry and I wish there were something I could do to help beyond just sitting here and listening.”
“That’s enough. You’re very easy to talk to.”
He grinned. “I don’t think most people would agree with you. Usually, they use words like distant, irritable, or other terms you might not say in polite company.”
“I don’t understand that at all. Maybe it helps that I know you were married before and it didn’t work out.”
“My sister does have a big mouth.”
“Maybe, but it’s so obvious TJ loves you. She’d do anything for you. I envy that. My sister and I are estranged, I guess you’d say.”
“That doesn’t have to be permanent. I didn’t talk to my parents for a long time, or to TJ, for that matter. We had to work out some stuff.”
“I got that impression.” Brigid ran her hand down his arm to take his hand in hers. “I’m sorry about your brother. How old was he when he died?”
“Nineteen. He was in-between me and TJ. Following in those footsteps wasn’t easy. He was the football hero and prom king and all that stuff. And of course, TJ was the smart one.”
“How did he die?”
Clay sighed. “It was one of those farm accidents you read about sometimes. A tractor rolled on him. I felt guilty about it for years.”
“We’re you driving the tractor?”
“No, he was. But I felt like it was my fault. TJ was home from college and Dad made us go pick up some hay in the front pasture.”
“You mean the field out near the highway?”
“Yeah. You’ve probably seen those huge machines that pick up the bales, but they never used them in the part near the highway because it has some uneven and rocky areas. We had to pick up those by hand ourselves using a tractor pulling a flatbed trailer.”
“That sounds like a lot of work.”
“Yeah and we all hated it. That’s why it wasn’t done. It was supposed to rain and Dad said we needed to get it in so the hay wouldn’t get spoiled. So we were all bent out of shape about having to go out there. But when you have that many cattle, you need all the hay you can get to make it through winter.”
“I never really thought much about that. No wonder the barn is so big.”
“Tell me about it. So that day, TJ called dibs on shoving the bales around on the trailer. Then my brother Cole and I were fighting about who was going to have to throw the bales up to the trailer versus who would drive the tractor.”
“TJ wanted to move bales of hay? I think I’d rather drive the tractor.”
“She hated that tractor with a fierce passion. Half the time it stalled out on her, and I think that’s how she learned to cuss like a sailor. She had some complicated system she’d figured out where she could lay all the bales in rows so she minimized how many she had to lift.”
“So I guess you were the one who had to throw them?”
“Yeah, I lost the argument. For years, that ate me up—that Cole would still be alive if I’d been the one driving that crummy old tractor.”
“What happened?”
“Cole was going too fast, partly I think to make me work harder because he was pissed at me, and partly to get the job over with more quickly. He had a date and he wanted to get to town. I guess he wasn’t paying attention and he hit a boulder that we’d all known was there for years. But the whole thing, tractor, trailer just flipped.”
“What happened to TJ?”
“She got thrown off and broke her ankle. But Cole was trapped and crushed. I was holding a bale and it was like I watched the whole thing in slow motion, but then woke up and realized what had just happened. I ran down to the highway waving my arms and screaming to get someone to stop. The next few days half of Alpine Grove was out here at the ranch.”
“That must have been horrible. I think that would give me nightmares too.”
“Not as much as you might think. I found different ways to torture myself I guess.” Clay caressed her cheek. “I think it just takes time to work through these things and learn to live with what happened.”
Brigid hugged him and laid her cheek back on his chest. “I tell myself that all the time.”
“It will be okay.” Clay moved to put his arm around her again. “He can’t hurt you anymore. Now it’s just memories.”
“I know. I keep hoping the memories will fade, but it’s taking so long.” Brigid let out a long breath. Clay was touching her back lightly and it felt unbelievably good. “Are you doing that horse massage thing?”
“Maybe a little.”
“I think I see why Nugget liked it so much.”
“I told you horses never lie. That goes for dogs too.”
Brigid murmured an assent and her last conscious thought before she fell asleep was that it was entirely possible this was the most relaxed she’d been in almost a decade.
At the sound of a dog bark, Brigid sat up and looked around the room. A clock radio was blaring somewhere. Clay rolled over, leaped out of bed, and ran out the bedroom door. Early morning sunlight streamed in through the window. The alarm was summarily silenced and Brigid heard Clay say something to the dog.
He walked back into the bedroom and stood in the doorway. “Sorry. Forgot to turn off the alarm. You wanted to get up early.” He ran his fingers through his tousled hair. “Coffee.”
Turning on his heel, he left, undoubtedly on a mission for caffeine. Brigid stretched her arms above her head and got up to make the bed. She’d slept incredibly soundly.
Downstairs, she found Clay in the kitchen leaning against the counter, holding a mug of coffee like his life depended on it. He turned and reached into a cabinet to get her a mug. She took the mug from him. “You’re not much of a morning person, are you?”
“I’m grateful that coffee exists.”
Brigid poured herself some coffee. “I’m going to work on the flyers and walk the dogs as fast as I can. I have to get back home. I’m being a terrible dog-mom to Gypsy.”
“I think she’ll be okay. From the sounds of it, she thinks you’re her heroine.”
She put down her mug and stood in front of him. “Thank you for letting me stay and talking to me. Last night meant a lot to me.”
“I think it’s good to talk these things out sometimes. I haven’t told anyone about Cole in a long time either.” He took a sip of coffee and gave her a mock-lascivious leer over the edge of the mug. “And hey, any time you want to stay over and sleep with me again is fine by me.”
Brigid giggled. “No doubt.” She put her arms around his waist and looked up into his eyes. “Thanks for also, um, well, just letting me sleep. You don’t snore, by the way.”
“Good.” He gave her kiss on the forehead. “You do. But it’s kind of cute.”
Brigid got home later than she’d wanted, hurriedly fed Gypsy, and then ran to the police station to deal with Layla. After finally taking a shower, she drove around town putting up flyers. She also dropped off information at the vet clinic about her meeting for potential volunteers.
Tracy reached over the desk, took the paper, and looked at it. “Cool. I can come if you want. By the way, we need to know when you can take Shelby and the puppies.”
“Can you keep them here a little while longer? They’re still so tiny. I’m hoping that someone at the meeting will
be able to foster them. I talked to one lady who is retired and looking for something to do.”
“Five puppies give you a whole lot to do.”
“I know. Maybe you could help me make taking care of them and cleaning up puppy poo sound really, really fun.”
“I’ll do my best. Come take a look, and that will help you sell the deal. Puppies this cute should be illegal.”
Brigid laughed and followed Tracy back to the cages. The five tiny puppies were asleep, but Tracy was right. They were absolutely adorable little bundles of brown fur curled up next to Shelby, who was also enjoying a nap.
Brigid whispered, “You weren’t kidding. I certainly don’t think they’ll have any trouble getting adopted.”
“Who could resist those little faces?”
“Don’t let me stay too long or my resolve will weaken.”
Tracy smiled. “I know. I keep warning my doxie that she could end up with a baby brother or sister if she doesn’t behave herself. Roxy is not amused.”
After repeating the process of feeding and walking Layla, Brigid went back home to pick up Gypsy. As she loaded the little dog into the car, she said, “Clay said you could come visit with me while I use the computer. I have so much stuff to do before this meeting. But a trip out to the country will be fun. It’s a big house and you can meet Scout. You’ll see.” Gypsy seemed up for anything and wagged her tail as she sniffed at the back seat a few times.
When Brigid arrived at the ranch, Clay was doing something with Aziz in the arena, so she drove up to the house and let Gypsy wander around in the grassy area near the porch before carrying her inside. Scout shot out the door, ignoring both of them. “‘Bye Scout.”
She put Gypsy down in the living room and the small dog wandered around with her nose to the floor sniffing furiously. Brigid smiled. “See, I told you it would be interesting.”
Gypsy followed her back to the office and curled up on a dog bed in the corner while Brigid turned on the computer. She couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have such a sweet, easygoing dog. After her initial adjustment, Gypsy seemed completely content to hang out at the house in town or with Brigid. Layla the hyperactive schnauzer needed to take a few lessons from Gypsy.
Much later, Gypsy stood up and barked ferociously, startling Brigid from the form she was creating. Clay crouched down and then sat on the floor in the doorway with his legs out in front of him. “Hey, little dog. You must be Gypsy.”
Gypsy offered him a tentative wag and sat back down, keeping a close eye to make sure he didn’t make any false moves. Brigid said, “It’s okay, Gypsy.”
Clay wiggled his fingers slightly. “If you sit next to me, she’ll probably come over and check me out.”
“Okay.” Brigid walked across the room and sat down next to him. “You probably smell like horse though. I hope she doesn’t hate horses like Nugget does.”
“To a dog, this whole house probably smells like fifty years of horses, cows, and who knows what else. If she hasn’t freaked out yet, I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
Gypsy walked over to Brigid and wagged her tail slightly as she sniffed at Clay’s leg. She continued to snuffle at him until she reached his sock, which was particularly fascinating. Her nostrils quivered as she savored the fragrance.
Brigid nudged his shoulder. “Those must be some really stinky socks.”
“Believe me, they’re better than the boots. I leave them outside.”
After Clay passed the sniff test, Gypsy curled up in Brigid’s lap and she began petting the soft fur on the dog’s back. “I guess you meet with her approval, after all.”
“I’m glad.” He touched Brigid’s arm. “So do you want something to eat?”
“No thanks. I should really walk the boys and then get home. I was hoping to be here for just a little while, but I have a ton of documents I need to create for this meeting on Monday, and it’s taking a while. One kind of silly problem I’m running into is that I still have no name for this organization. I need to create all these forms for the volunteers I’m hoping to sign up, but I don’t know what name to use.”
“Brigid’s Dogs doesn’t work, huh?”
“Very funny. Alpine Grove something or other? It’s not an animal shelter. It’s just to adopt the dogs. But someday it could take cats too, I guess. Alpine Grove Animals? Adoptions? Animal Care? Animal Rescue? Is it a society like a Humane Society?”
“I don’t know.” He pulled his leg up and wrapped an arm around it. “To me that sort of implies an animal shelter with a building. Just make sure the acronym doesn’t spell anything dirty. Or dumb. There was one group called AGOG, which although kinda dopey, still wasn’t as bad as AGAG.”
Brigid giggled. “Well, animal adoptions would be A-G-A-A. Aga? That’s a stove isn’t it?”
“Maybe. Even if it is, it probably isn’t spelled with two As at the end. A-G-A-C? A-G-A-R? A-G-H-S?”
“I think AGAA works well enough, at least for these forms. When I do all the nonprofit incorporation stuff, I have to have a board of directors. Then we can vote on something official.”
Clay gathered his feet under him and stood up. “That sounds like a plan.”
Gypsy woke up and stretched as Clay held out his hand to Brigid to help her up. She gave him a hug. “Thanks for helping me think this through. I’m really nervous about this meeting.”
“I’m sure you’ll do fine. Anyone who attends is bound to care about animals, so you’ve got some common ground to start.”
“I’m worried they’ll think I’m an outsider trying to meddle.”
“Well, the fact they don’t know you has advantages. In a small town, stories tend to run wild. No one has any stories about you yet. Be thankful for that.”
Brigid wondered at the unusually hard tone in his voice. Maybe he was speaking from personal experience. In any case, he probably did have a point.
The next morning, Brigid tended to Layla at the station. Tuesday was the dog’s last day there and as usual, no owner had come forward. It was depressing. Brigid was desperately hoping that someone at the meeting would take the little schnauzer into foster care. Alternatively, if someone took Nugget, it would free up a kennel at the ranch. She hated the idea of asking Clay to set up yet another enclosure. Eventually, he’d reach a point when he’d stop being so obliging about adding canine residents. No matter how much he said he liked her and what she was trying to do, it wasn’t a good idea to strain their friendship and find out what that point might be.
The Honda was still stinky, but Brigid was trying to get used to it. Gypsy liked driving around with the back windows open anyway. Before the big storm, when Clay had gone out to tend to the horses, he had rolled up her car windows. She had forgotten about them, so it was a good thing he remembered. Remoisturizing the vomit probably wouldn’t have improved matters.
While Brigid drove north toward the ranch, she mentally ticked off all the items she needed to do before the meeting the next day. It was possible quite a few people could show up. She was going to have to play hostess, which meant a trip to the grocery store for food. Not to mention cleaning the house. All this running around hadn’t left much time for housekeeping and Gypsy seemed to be embarking on a spring shedding extravaganza. The fur situation was getting a little out of hand. John would have had a heart attack if he saw the state of her floors. And the silverware drawer was a disgrace. A shrink would have a field day with this post-mortem passive-aggressive sloppiness she’d been working on.
When she arrived at the ranch, four saddled horses were standing next to one another, looking sleepy. They were tied to a metal bar in front of the horse barn, swishing their tails. It looked like they were ready for a ride or a nap. Brigid looked over her shoulder at Gypsy, who was standing up looking expectant. “I’ll be right back. Let me see what they’re up to over there.” The dog wagged and sat back down.
Brigid walked over to the horse barn and went inside. Clay came out of the tack room, examining some bridles in
his hands. He looked up and stopped short, catching one of the leather straps before he dropped it. “Hey there, you startled me. You don’t usually come over to this barn. You might encounter a horse here, you know.”
“I saw all the horses lined up and I wanted to find out what you’re doing. I don’t want to take out Nugget until you’re done.”
“I gave the dogs a walk before I saddled up the horses. I’ve got a mom and her kids coming out for a ride.”
“Thank you, but you didn’t have to do that. I could have come out earlier if I’d known.”
“It doesn’t matter. I was here, and we had an enjoyable walk. They’re good dogs. And you’re going to have to get used to not doing everything yourself here real soon now if you get all those volunteers on board.”
Brigid smiled. “Cross your fingers! After I finish up these documents today, I have to go to the store. I think feeding people might improve the mood of the room.”
“Food is always a good idea.”
“I do feel bad that you had to do my job though. Except now that I said that, I need to ask you a favor. Because of the meeting, I can’t come out here tomorrow night. Could you deal with the dogs?”
“Sure. I gave the boys some treats to encourage them to behave like gentlemen, and now they think I walk on water.”
Brigid laughed. “That’s great. Well, I’ll get out of your way now. It looks like you have a lot to do.”
He shook the bridles in his hand to straighten out a strap, and flipped the reins over his shoulder. “I’m pretty sure I’ve put a bridle on a horse before.”
“Have fun.” Brigid turned to leave the barn. “Gypsy and I will be inside.”
“Brigid?”
She turned around and Clay was right there in front of her. The man moved like a cat. His ability to move silently was a little disarming. She looked up at his face. “Yes.”
The Good, the Bad, and the Pugly (An Alpine Grove Romantic Comedy Book 7) Page 16
