Leo didn’t speak, but he glanced up at Kayla and gave a little jump. She knew what it meant. Eighteen dogs would be a cornucopia of joy to him.
They headed along the road in front of the cabins. “Is he comfortable with dogs?” Finn asked.
“He hasn’t been around them much, but he’s liked the ones he’s met.” Loved, more like. A pet was one of the things she’d begged Mitch for, regularly. She’d wanted the companionship for Leo, because she’d determined soon after his birth that they’d never have another child. Fatherhood didn’t sit well with Mitch.
But Mitch hadn’t wanted a dog, and she’d known better than to go against him on that. She wouldn’t be the only one who’d suffer; the dog would, too, and Leo.
“We’re low on residents right now,” Finn said. He waved a hand toward a rustic, hotel-like structure half-hidden by the curve of a hill. “Couple of guys live in the old lodge. Help us do repairs, when they have time. But they both work days and aren’t around a whole lot.”
“You going to fill the place up?”
“Slowly, as we get the physical structures back up to code. These two cabins are unoccupied.” He gestured to the two that were next to the one he’d just shown them. The corner of one was caving in, and its porch looked unstable. She’d definitely have to set some limits on where Leo could play, in the event that this worked out. “This next one, guy named Parker lives there, but he’s away. His mom’s real sick. I’m not sure when he’ll be back.”
Across the morning air, the sound of banjo and guitar music wafted, surprising her. She looked down at Leo, whose head was cocked to one side.
They found the source of the music on the porch of the last cabin, and as they came close, the men playing the instruments stopped. “Who you got there?” came a raspy voice.
Finn half turned to her. “Come meet Willie and Long John. Willie lives in the cabin next door, but he spends most of his time with Long John. If you work here, you’ll see a lot of them.”
As they approached the steps, the two men got to their feet. They both looked to be in their later sixties. The tall, skinny, balding one who’d struggled getting up had to be Long John, which meant the short, heavyset one, with a full white beard, his salt-and-pepper hair pulled back in a ponytail, must be Willie. Both wore black Vietnam veteran baseball caps.
Finn introduced them and explained why Kayla was here.
“Hope you’ll take the job,” Long John said. “We could use some help with the dogs.”
“And it’d improve the view around here,” Willie said, a smile quirking the corner of his mouth beneath the beard.
Finn cleared his throat and glared at the older man.
Willie just grinned and eased down onto the cabin’s steps. At eye level with Leo, he held out a hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, young man,” he said.
“Shake hands,” Kayla urged, and Leo held out his right hand.
“Pleased to meet you, sir,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, and Kayla felt a surge of pride at his manners.
After a grave handshake, Willie looked up at her. “Wouldn’t mind having a little guy around here. Always did like to take my grandkids fishing.” He waved an arm in the direction of the pond she’d seen. “We keep it stocked.”
Kayla’s heart melted, just at the edges. Grandfather figures for Leo? A chance for him to learn to fish?
There was a low woof from inside the screen door and a responding one from the porch. A large black dog she hadn’t seen before lumbered to its feet.
“About time you noticed there’s some new folks here,” Long John said, reaching from his chair to run a hand over the black dog’s bony spine. “Rockette, here, don’t pay a whole lot of attention to the world these days. Not unless her friend Duke wakes her up.”
Willie opened the screen door. A gray-muzzled pit bull sauntered out.
“Duke. Sit.” Willie made a hand gesture, and Duke obediently dropped to his haunches, his tongue lolling out. Willie slipped a treat from the pocket of his baggy jeans and fed it to the dog.
Leo took two steps closer to the old black dog, reached out and touched its side with the tips of his fingers.
“One of our agreements, for anyone who lives in the cabins, is that they take in a dog,” Finn explained. “Gives them a little extra attention. Especially the ones not likely to be adopted.”
Leo tugged Kayla’s hand. “Would we have a dog?”
“Maybe.” She put seriousness into her voice so he wouldn’t get his hopes up. “It all depends if Mr. Gallagher decides to offer me the job, and if I take it. Those are grown-up decisions.”
“Sure could use the help,” Long John said, lowering himself back into his chair with a stifled groan. “Me and Willie been doing our best, but...” He waved a hand at a walker folded against the porch railing. “With my Parkinson’s, it’s not that easy.”
“Hardly anyone else has applied,” Willie added. “Don’t get many out-of-towners around these parts. And the people who live in Esperanza Springs heard we’re gonna have more guys up here. They get skittish.” He winked at Kayla. “We vets are gentle as lambs, though, once you get to know us.”
“Right.” She had direct experience to the contrary.
At first, before her marriage had gone so far downhill, she hadn’t translated Mitch’s problems into a mistrust of all military personnel. Later, it had been impossible to avoid doing just that.
When Mitch had pushed his way into her place well after their divorce was final—talking crazy and roughing her up—she’d gone to the police.
She hadn’t wanted to file a complaint, which had been stupid. She’d just wanted to know her options, whether a protection order would do any good.
What she hadn’t known was that the police officer she’d spoken with was army, too. Hadn’t known he drank with Mitch at the Legion.
The cop had let Mitch know that she’d reported him, and she still bore the bruises from when he’d come back over to her place, enraged, looking for blood.
Shaking off her thoughts, she watched Long John talk with Finn while Willie plucked at his guitar and then held it out to show Leo. The two veterans did exude a gentle vibe. But then, their wartime experiences were distant, their aggressions most likely tamed through age and experience.
“Let’s take a look at the kennels,” Finn said and nodded toward the barn. “Later, guys.”
Just outside the barn, Finn turned and gestured for Leo to stand in front of him. After a nod from Kayla, Leo did, his eyes lowered, shoulders frozen in a slump.
“I want you to ask before you touch a dog, Leo,” he said. “Most of them are real nice, but a couple are nervous enough to lash out. So ask an adult first, and never, ever open a kennel without an adult there to help you. Understand?”
Leo nodded, taking a step closer to Kayla.
“Good.” Finn turned toward the barn door and beckoned for them to follow him.
Much barking greeted their entry into the dim barn. Finn flicked on a light, revealing kennels along both sides of the old structure and more halfway up the middle. One end of the barn was walled off into what looked like an office.
Finn walked down the row of dogs, telling her their names, reaching through some of the wire fencing to stroke noses. His fondness for the animals was obvious in his tone and his gentle touch. “All of them are seniors,” he explained over his shoulder. “Which is about seven and up for a big dog, eight or nine for a little one.”
“Where do they come from?” she asked. The barking had died down, and most of the dogs stood at the gates of their kennels, tails wagging, eyes begging for attention.
“Owner surrenders, mostly. Couple of strays.”
She knelt to look at a red-gold dog, probably an Irish setter mix. “Why would anyone give you up, sweetie?” She reached between the cage wires to touch the dog’s white
muzzle, seeming to read sadness in its eyes.
“Lots of reasons,” Finn said. “People move. Or they don’t have money for food and vet bills. Sometimes, they just don’t want to deal with a dog that requires some extra care.” He knelt beside her. “Lola, here, she can’t make it up and down stairs. Her owner lived in a two-story house, so...”
“They couldn’t carry her up and down?”
“Apparently not.”
“Can I pet her, too, Mom?” Leo asked, forgetting to be quiet.
Kayla looked over at Finn. “Can he?”
“She’s harmless. Go ahead.”
As Leo stuck fingers into the cage of the tail-wagging Lola, Finn turned toward Kayla. “Most of our dogs are really gentle, just like I was telling Leo. The ones that are reactive have a red star on their cages.” He pointed to one on the cage of a medium-sized brown dog, some kind of Doberman mix. “Those, you both stay away from. If the job works out, we’ll talk about getting you some training for handling difficult dogs.”
If the job worked out. Would it work out? Did she want it to?
Finn had moved farther down the row of cages, and he made a small sound of concern and opened one, guiding a black cocker spaniel out and attaching a leash to her collar. He bent over the little dog, rubbing his hands up and down her sides. “It’s okay,” he murmured as the dog wagged her tail and leaned against him. “You’re okay.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Her cage is a mess. She knocked over her water and spilled her food.” He scratched behind her ears. “Never has an accident, though, do you, girl?”
Kayla felt her shoulders loosen just a fraction. If Finn was that kind and gentle with a little dog, maybe he was a safe person to be around.
“Could you hold her leash while I clean up her cage?” he asked, looking over at Kayla. “In fact, if you wouldn’t mind, she needs to go outside.”
“No problem.” She moved to take the leash and knelt down, Leo hurrying to her side.
“Careful,” Finn warned. “She’s blind and mostly deaf. You have to guide her or she’ll run into things.”
“How can she walk?” Leo asked, squatting down beside Kayla and petting the dog’s back as Finn had done. “Mom, feel her! She’s soft!”
Kayla put her hand in the dog’s fur, shiny and luxuriant. “She is soft.”
“She still has a good sense of smell,” Finn explained to Leo. “And the sun and grass feel good to her. You’ll see.” He gestured toward the door at the opposite end of the barn. “There’s a nice meadow out there where the dogs can run.”
She and Leo walked toward the barn’s door, guiding the dog around an ancient tractor and bins of dog food. In the bright meadow outside, Kayla inhaled the sweet, pungent scents of pine and wildflowers.
“Look, Mom, she’s on her back!” Leo said. “She likes it out here!”
Kayla nodded, kneeling beside Leo to watch the little black dog’s ecstatic rolling and arching. “She sure does. No matter that she has some problems—nobody likes to be in a cage.”
A few minutes later, Finn came out, leading another dog. “I see you’ve figured out her favorite activity,” he said. “Thanks for helping.”
The dog he was leading, some kind of a beagle-basset mix, nudged the blind dog, and they sniffed each other. Then the hound jumped up and bumped her to the ground.
“He’s hurting her!” Leo cried and stepped toward the pair.
“Let them be.” Finn’s hands came down on Leo’s shoulders, gently stopping him.
Leo edged away and stood close to Kayla.
Finn lifted an eyebrow and then smiled reassuringly at Leo. “She’s a real friendly dog and likes to play. Wish I could find someone to adopt her, but with her disabilities, it’s hard. Willie and Long John can only handle one dog each. I have one of our problem dogs at my place—” He waved off toward a small house next to a bigger one, in the direction of the lodge. “And Penny—she owns the ranch—has another at hers. So for now, this girl stays in the kennel.”
If she and Leo stayed here, maybe they could take the black dog in. That would certainly make Leo happy. He’d sunk down to roll on the ground with the dogs, laughing as they licked his face, acting like a puppy himself. He hadn’t smiled so much in weeks.
And Kayla, who always weighed her choices carefully, who’d spent a year planning how to divorce Mitch, made a snap decision.
This place was safe. It was remote. Mitch would never find them. And maybe Leo could have a decent childhood for a while. Not forever, she didn’t expect that, but a little bit of a safe haven.
She looked over at Finn. He was smiling, too, watching Leo. It softened his hard-planed, square face, made him almost handsome. But as he watched, his mouth twisted a little, and his sea-blue eyes got distant.
She didn’t want him to sink into a bad mood. That was never good. “If I can arrange for the summer camp for Leo,” she said, “I’d be very interested in the job.”
He looked at her, then at Leo, and then at the distant mountains. “There’s paperwork, a reference check, drug tests. All that would have to be taken care of before we could offer you anything permanent.”
“Not a problem.” Not only did she have good references, but they were sworn to secrecy as to her whereabouts.
“I’ll have to talk to our owner, too.” His voice held reluctance.
Time to be blunt. “Is there some kind of problem you see in hiring me?”
“I’m withholding judgment,” he said. “But we do need someone soon, since our last assistant quit. Until everything’s finalized, how about a one-week trial?”
“That works.” Even if the job didn’t come together, she and Leo would get a week off the road.
With dogs.
Meanwhile, Finn’s extreme caution made her curious. “You never did mention what branch of the military you served in,” she said as he bent over to put leashes back on the two tired-out dogs.
“Eighty-second Airborne.”
Kayla sat down abruptly beside Leo, pulling her knees to herself on the grassy ground. She knew God was good and had a plan, but sometimes it seemed like He was toying with her.
Because this perfect new job meant involvement with a man from the same small, intensely loyal division of the US Army as her abusive ex.
Chapter Two
“You sure you’re not making a big mistake?” Penny Jordan asked Finn two days later.
It was Saturday afternoon, and they were sitting in Penny’s office, watching out the window as Kayla’s subcompact sputtered up the dirt road to cabin six, leaving a trail of black exhaust in its wake.
“No.” Finn watched as Kayla exited the car and opened the back door. Leo climbed out, and they opened the hatch and stood, surveying its contents. Leo looked up at her, listening seriously, like an adult. “I think it probably is a mistake, but I couldn’t talk her out of wanting the job. So I went with the one-week trial.”
“But she’s moving in.” Penny, ten years older than Finn but at least twenty times wiser, took a gulp of black coffee from her oversize cup. “That doesn’t seem like a trial thing to do.”
“They were staying at the campground up toward Harmony.” He eased his leg off the chair where he’d been resting it, grimacing. “Afternoon thunderstorms are getting bad. At least they’ll have a roof over their heads.”
“You’re skirting the issue.” Penny leaned forward, elbows on the table. “She has a young son.”
“I know, and even though she says she’s got a plan for childcare, I don’t know that it’s safe for him—”
“Finn.” Penny put a hand on his arm. “You know what I’m talking about.”
He wasn’t going there. “Guess I’d better get up there and help ’em move in.”
“You’re going to have to face what happened one of these days,” she sa
id, standing up with her trademark speed and grace. “I’ll come, too. Gotta meet the woman who broke through your three-foot-thick walls.”
“She didn’t break through—it’s a trial,” he emphasized. “She knows the deal. And yes, you should meet her, because when she’s not working kennels she can do housekeeping for you. Free you up for the real work.”
Penny put her hands on her hips and arched forward and sideways, stretching her back. She was slim, with one long braid down her back and fine wrinkles fanning out from the corners of her eyes, the result of years spent outdoors in the Western sun. Not a trace of makeup, but she didn’t need it; she was naturally pretty. Big heart, too.
She didn’t deserve what had happened to her.
“Speaking of the real work,” she said, “we might have two more vets coming in within the next six weeks.”
“Oh?”
“Guy’s classic PTSD, right out of Iraq. The woman...” Penny shook her head. “She’s been through it. Scarred up almost as bad as Daniela was.” Penny walked over to the window and looked out, her forehead wrinkling. “I’m going to put her in the cabin next to your new hire. She’ll be more comfortable farther away from the guys.”
Finn nodded. Daniela Jiminez had only recently left the ranch to marry another short-term resident, Gabriel Shafer. They’d stopped in to visit after their honeymoon, and their obvious joy mostly made Finn happy. He’d never experience that for himself, didn’t deserve to, but he was glad to have had a small part in getting Gabe and Daniela together.
They walked down the sunny lane to the cabins. Finn kept up with Penny’s quick stride even though he wasn’t using his cane; it was a good day.
When they were halfway down, Willie’s truck came toward them and glided to a halt. “Hitting the roadhouse for dinner and then a little boot scootin’,” Willie said out the window. “You should come along, Finn. Meet somebody.”
Penny rolled her eyes. “Men.”
“Like Finn’s gonna get a lady friend,” Long John said from the passenger seat.
“You think you’ve got better odds?” Finn asked, meaning it as a joke. Everyone knew he didn’t go out, didn’t date. Those who pushed had gotten their heads bitten off and learned a lesson. Willie and Long John, though, were more persistent than most.
The Soldier's Redemption Page 2
