“I know why I’m here—because Dad is pissed at me and wants me out of the house. I just don’t know why you’re here. Did you quit?”
She was tempted to make some kind of excuse and change the subject. She really didn’t want to talk about it. While success had always been important to her sense of herself, the failure still gnawed at her.
But she and Crystal were just beginning to foster a sense of trust between them. To her mind, that meant sharing the bad, too. She couldn’t shake the memory of how her father had completely refused to discuss anything with her when Betsy started growing increasingly unstable.
“I’m here because I lost my job.”
“Why? Because of the economy?”
“No. Over the last few months, I made some mistakes. The biggest was not speaking up when I should have about whether a software program was really ready to hit the market. Turns out, it wasn’t.”
“Why were you blamed?”
Lucy told her sister the entire story, about the disastrous marketing campaign and the PR nightmare resulting from it.
“It was a huge mistake, from start to finish, but I have to say, it’s been a hard but valuable learning opportunity for me.”
The biggest lesson was the realization that had trickled over her slowly while she had been back in Hope’s Crossing.
She hadn’t been happy for some time, but she had been too busy to even notice. For the first time, she wondered if being fired might have been one of those proverbial blessings in disguise.
“So what are you going to do now?” her sister asked.
Ah, there was the question. “Because I worked hard all these years and saved my money, I have a few options. I’m trying to figure out what I really enjoyed about my work. Maybe I can find something new that focuses on those strengths.”
She had loved the creativity and challenge of coming up with marketing strategies. Struggling with personnel issues and corporate tap dancing, on the other hand, had sucked her dry.
“For now, the plan is to focus on the house. You can see now that I have plenty to do.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here. Military school would have seriously sucked.”
“Your dad hasn’t ruled it out,” she warned.
“I know.”
Max whined a little, and Crystal glanced out the window. “It looks nice out there. Would it be okay if I take him out on the grass to play for a little bit?”
“Yes. Let’s take a break. I’m going to need to run these boxes of fabric over to Genevieve, anyway. You can hang out here or come with me. Your choice.”
“We’ll come,” Crystal decided, scooping up the puppy.
She might not have been excited about taking on the challenge of an orphaned puppy, but right now Lucy wanted to take the little dog from her sister and smooch him all over his furry little face for bringing about this miraculous change.
* * *
THAT DAY SEEMED to set the pattern for the next several. She and Crystal would work on homework for a few hours in the morning and then pick a room in Aunt Annabelle’s house to clear out in the afternoon.
Along the way, they discovered a storehouse of treasures, many of them delightful period items that would work nicely with the plans she had worked out with Genevieve for Iris House.
If the weather was nice, Crystal and Max would play in the sunshine of the early evening while Lucy fumbled her way through caring for Annabelle’s garden.
By the end of the week, she was astonished at how much they had accomplished, on all counts.
“We have kicked butt this week,” she said to her sister early Friday evening as they sat on the grass watching Max chew a stick. In a week, he had already gained weight and was looking more solid and sturdy, much less like the fragile, helpless little wisp they had found in that Dumpster.
On the veterinarian’s instructions, they had started weaning him off the replacement formula and he was doing well with mushy puppy chow mixed with some of it.
He looked healthier and was definitely happier, though Crystal was still getting up several times a night to feed him. He was starting to be curious about the world and give them a little inkling into what a mischievous troublemaker he might be turning into.
“We should celebrate all our hard work,” Crystal said.
“Great idea. What would you like to do? After we’re done grilling, we could go catch a movie.”
They had a couple of chicken breasts marinating in the refrigerator and Lucy had started the charcoal briquettes in Annabelle’s old barbecue ten minutes earlier. The smoky scent was already wafting across the yard.
“Going to the movies could be fun. I don’t even know what’s out.”
They were discussing the possible genre of movie they wanted to see—Lucy was in the mood for an action thriller while Crystal wanted a romantic comedy—when she suddenly heard an excited voice outside the iron fence.
“Hi, Aunt Lucy! Hi, Crystal. Hi, Max!”
“Hey, Faith!” Crystal called as the girl climbed down off her bike and opened the gate.
“What are you guys doing?”
“Just sitting out here, enjoying the evening. What about you?”
“Oh, we just went on a bike ride. Guess what? I finished Anne of Avonlea, and now I’m starting Anne of the Island.”
“Already? My word, you’re a fast reader.”
“Because I love to do it,” she said simply. “Max is getting soooo big. So is Daisy. You should see her! She’s so cute! I can feed her by myself now. I do it in the night when my dad is at the fire station. Mrs. Madison doesn’t like dogs that much.”
“Is she eating puppy chow yet?” Crystal asked.
“She started a few days ago. She really liked it. How about Max?”
“He likes it, too. He’s a little piglet, aren’t you, buddy?”
The puppy yipped and stumbled over his feet and both girls giggled just as Carter and Brendan rode up, Brendan on a mountain bike and Carter on his cute little BMX bike.
Lucy’s stomach did a long, slow roll. How had she forgotten in less than a week how outrageously gorgeous the man was, with those rugged features, the broad shoulders, those vivid blue eyes?
It really wasn’t fair.
“There you are,” he called to Faith. “How did you get so far ahead of us?”
She giggled. “Because you’re slowpokes, I guess.”
“I guess.” He and Carter both parked their bikes and walked toward them, and Lucy suddenly wished she had time to run inside and throw on some lipstick or something.
“Where did you go on your bike ride?” she asked Carter.
“We rode all the way to Aunt Charlotte’s house, but she wasn’t home.”
“It was still a gorgeous evening for a ride, wasn’t it?” she said.
“Beautiful,” Brendan answered, an odd light in his eyes as he looked at her.
Carter dropped to his knees in the grass, heedless of stains on his jeans. “Hi, Max. Hi, buddy!”
He giggled as the puppy yipped and scampered to him.
“How are things on the puppy front? Faith was just telling us Daisy is transitioning to puppy chow.”
“What can I say? We have a gifted dog.”
“Max is clearly superior. He’s been eating puppy chow for days now.”
He laughed. “Oh, is that how this is going to go? A puppy throwdown?”
“You can’t throw down the puppies,” Carter said, alarmed. “They might get hurt.”
“Just a figure of speech, honey,” Brendan said. “Nobody’s throwing anything.”
He met Lucy’s gaze, and she caught her breath at the warm amusement there. She had rarely seen him lighthearted like this, and she suddenly wanted more.
“You
must not be working tonight.”
“No. I finished four twelves this morning. I’ve got the weekend off.”
“Lucky.”
“You didn’t bring Daisy with you?” Crystal asked.
“No. She was sleeping soundly in her crate when we left.”
“I could go get her,” Faith offered. “Remember, we were supposed to have playdates with the dogs, and we haven’t done that yet.”
“That’s right,” Crystal said. “I bet they’ve missed each other.”
“Have you eaten?” Lucy asked on impulse. “We were just getting ready to throw some chicken on the grill.”
“Hey! We were going to barbecue, too!” Carter exclaimed. “Right after our bike ride. Dad took out a steak for him and hot dogs for me and Faith.”
“Yum. Why don’t we save some charcoal and you can bring your dinner and your puppy up here? I’ll even let your dad work the grill while I throw together a salad and some oven-baked fries.”
“Wow. That’s nice of you,” Brendan said dryly.
She grinned. “Scientific fact. Guys like to grill.”
“So I hear.”
“Can we stay, Dad?” Faith asked.
He looked reluctant for just a moment, and she suddenly felt guilty for springing the invitation on him like that, in front of the children. She should have known better.
“Sure,” he finally said. “I’ll go grab our dinner and Daisy. You kids can stay here and play with Max.”
“I should have everything you need,” Lucy said.
“I guess I’ll be back in a minute, then. Kids, behave yourselves.”
“Okay,” Carter said cheerfully.
“I always behave myself,” Faith said, rather primly. To Lucy’s mind, the girl needed to tumble into a little trouble once in a while.
When Brendan headed for his mountain bike, she followed him where they could speak out of earshot of the children, feeling guilty about her thoughtlessness.
“Sorry,” she murmured. “I should have talked to you first before I said anything about dinner. It was unfair of me to back you into a corner like that. I can make an excuse if you want.”
She couldn’t read the expression in his eyes. “I don’t mind,” he said. “It’s a nice night for a barbecue. The kids will enjoy eating at Iris House, and I will enjoy not having to think about anything but grilling.”
“Next time I’ll try to remember to clear any brilliant ideas with you first,” she assured him.
“Thanks.”
She could swear his gaze dipped to her mouth and she wondered if he was remembering that incredible kiss. Was he thinking about the slow slide of his tongue along hers? How her body seemed to fit so perfectly against his?
He cleared his throat, and she thought she saw a muscle flex in his jaw. “I’ll be back in a few,” he said, then rode off fast before she could even answer.
She stood for a moment trying to will down her unruly hormones before she hurried back to the children.
Faith and Carter didn’t look up from playing with Max, but Crystal gave her an appraising sort of look.
“You like him,” her sister said in a low voice.
Lucy felt herself blush, much to her dismay. A few weeks ago, she would have argued most vehemently about that, but things had changed since her return to Hope’s Crossing. She did like him. Entirely too much.
“Sure, I like him. He was married to my dear friend and I adore his children.”
“I’m not talking about the kids or about his late wife. I’m talking about the way you get all flustered around him.”
“I do not.”
Crystal gave her a pitying sort of look that had her blushing even more. “Oh, please, Luce. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I blame you. For an old dude, he’s pretty hot.”
Oh, yes. He was, indeed.
“Don’t let your imagination go into overdrive or anything,” she said, in what she hoped was a stern, dismissive tone—which might have held more weight if she wasn’t blushing like a teenage girl over her first crush. “Brendan and I are friends. That’s it.”
It was true, she realized, and far more than they had been a few weeks ago.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Brendan headed back up the hill toward Iris House with a grocery bag in one arm and a tiny smidge of a dog named Daisy tucked in the crook of his other.
This was what he considered a perfect late-April evening in the mountains, with the air smelling of pine and fresh-cut grass and new growth.
He told himself he had no reason to feel ridiculous carrying the dog—if she could legally be considered a dog, when she was little more than a ball of fluff.
If a guy was going to have a dog, he ought to have something big, muscular. Meaty. A German shepherd or a Siberian husky or some breed like that, not a little purse pooch, who barely filled out one of his shoes. And yes, the kids thought it was hilarious to stick her in one and watch her try to escape—and Carter just about had an accident himself, laughing so hard when she peed in one of Brendan’s favorite sneakers.
They were having a great time with Daisy—and, he had to admit, he was having a great time watching Faith and Carter get so excited about the little dog.
Faith was often far too earnest and serious for her own good. She would rather be reading a book than just about anything else in the world. He didn’t necessarily consider that a bad thing, but he worried she spent more time reading about exciting places and people than actually trying to embrace life and taste a little of that excitement herself.
Since Daisy’s arrival in their house and the upheaval four pounds of dog provided, Faith had been far more engaged with all of them.
Carter, on the other hand, had gone in the other direction. Brendan couldn’t recall a time when his son ever voluntarily sat longer than two or three minutes at a time except at meals, but the evening before, Carter had sat on the porch steps for at least a half hour in the evening, just holding the puppy and chattering softly to her.
He had been dying to hear the conversation but hadn’t been able to get close enough to catch any of it.
Yeah, Daisy added a new layer to the general craziness of his life, with the frenetic schedule of feedings and bathroom breaks and cleaning up after her. The guys at the station thought it was hilarious that he brought her to the station with him in her little crate—though he noticed all of them looked for any excuse to hold her.
He was getting into a routine now and had just about decided it wouldn’t be terrible keeping her around.
The dog whined a little, probably ready to eat again.
“Hang on a minute,” he told her. “We’re almost there.”
He passed the house of Lou and Maria Giordano, three houses down from Iris House, and waved at the retired railroad worker, who was raking the wood chips in one of his lush flower beds.
He had a soft spot for both Lou and his wife. After Jessie’s death, Lou mowed his lawn all summer long so Brendan wouldn’t have to worry about the job in the midst of all that pain, and Maria had brought a plate of gooey, warm chocolate chip cookies to the house every week for months, even though the two of them were elderly and didn’t get around as well as they used to when he was a kid.
“Nice evening, isn’t it?” Lou called.
“It is that. We live in a beautiful place, don’t we?”
“You know it, son.” Lou ambled over, rake in hand. “What you got there? Looks like a gerbil.”
He held Daisy up a little so the man could have a better look. “Nope. It’s a puppy. We’re foster parents for a while, until the Humane Society can find her a new home.”
“Oh, she is a cute one. Looks like, what, part Yorkie, with maybe some mini poodle and a few other things thrown in?”
“That’s what the vet says. You’ve got a good eye for dog breeds.”
“Oh, Maria and I love dogs. We watch the dog shows every chance we get. Where’d this one come from?”
“We found her and a littermate in a trash bin outside the grocery store.”
“Oh, poor little thing. She is a cutie.” Lou looked closer. “You know, we might be interested in a puppy. Ever since Sally—she was our mini pinscher—died last winter, the house has seemed a little lonely.”
A couple of days ago, that would have been an answer to prayer. A good, loving home close enough that his kids could still visit Daisy whenever they wanted and even take her on walks so the Giordanos didn’t have to.
At this point, he didn’t see any way of extricating her from their lives without breaking the kids’ hearts.
“To tell you the truth, the kids are already pretty attached to her. I wasn’t in the market for a dog right now, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to rip her away from them.”
Lou chuckled. “I hear you. Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
Brendan inclined his head toward Iris House. “Daisy here has a brother who’s staying up at Iris House with Annabelle’s great-niece. Lucy might have an easier time giving Max up than my kids will with Daisy. I can’t make any promises. I’m heading there. I can talk to her for you if you want.”
“Thanks. I’d appreciate that. I’ve seen her out and about since she came back to town. She seems nice as can be. Yesterday, she stopped and helped me clean up some branches after that big wind we had.”
“That was kind of her.”
“Yes. And she’s a good-looking one, too. You could do a lot worse.”
“Oh, we’re not—” he started to say, but decided he would sound stupid if he protested too much. Anyway, Daisy was currently nibbling on the inside of his elbow and he wasn’t in the mood to start whining at her like the vet recommended, right in front of his seventy-two-year-old neighbor.
“Night, Lou. Give my best to Maria.”
“Same to you, son. Same to you.”
He really did enjoy living here. After Jess died, he had thought about picking up the kids and starting over somewhere else, where people didn’t whisper, “Oh, that poor man” when they saw him around town.
Wild Iris Ridge (Hope's Crossing) Page 18
