by Lori Wick
“I can’t…”
“Yes, you can. I’ve got a meeting. See you later.”
Cal clutched the card. “No, Pete. This is not happening. I am not taking this dog.”
“She eats pretty much anything and she’s already had breakfast,” he said.
“I’m not doing this.”
Pete headed down the hallway. “And whatever you do, don’t let her near your car keys.”
“Why?” Cal yelled down the corridor. “What does it do with car keys?”
“She,” Pete thundered. “Tippy’s a girl.”
Gina sat in her cousin’s car, fingers clenched on the wheel, staring at the gate which separated her from a house she would never be able to afford in six lifetimes. Maybe seven. Sea Cliff, San Francisco, was not the natural habitat of a girl of Gina’s financial circumstances. Her hand hovered over the gear, eager to slam the Volvo into reverse and flee. God will equip you for anything, remember? Her insides quivered as she recalled that she hadn’t exactly made a spectacular success out of her last endeavor. She whispered another prayer, hoping the equipping would commence immediately, in great quantity, and inched the car up to the guard whose nametag identified him as Ed. She smiled, he smiled, and she admired the little crayon sketch taped on the wall next to his phone with a name scrawled in crooked capital letters underneath. Addie Jo. The guard’s granddaughter, he told her with a proud smile. They chatted about Addie Jo, the artistic four-year-old who was learning ballet and had a bowl full of guppies that would not stop reproducing.
After looking her over and consulting a clipboard, miraculously, he let her pass. Maybe it really had been a good idea to put on the blue blazer and skirt, though it seemed pretty ridiculous for pet sitter garb. She’d never met a dog who seemed at all impressed by stylish clothing.
“These are celebrity clients,” her cousin Lexi had said. “Humor them; treat them with kid gloves.”
Gina would rather be at school with her kindergartners, wrist-deep in finger paints, fat pencils, and safety scissors, than trying to impress celebrities. They aren’t your kindergartners anymore, remember? Pain pricked at her heart. She’d served her three months as a long-term sub, long enough to fall in love with the ornery, boisterous five-year olds. There might have even been a full-time position in the works if she hadn’t accidentally misplaced a child during the class field trip to the bakery. One minute she had twenty-six students, and the next, Rodney Wang was missing, only to be discovered sleeping atop a massive stack of flour an hour and a half later after a frantic search that included the police. The end of her dream.
Goodbye, Teacher Palmer. Hello unemployment, which had lasted five interminable weeks until her cousin had to deal with the hernia that would not be ignored. Goodbye, kindergarten. Hello, celebrity pet concierge. Don’t worry, cuz. I won’t mess things up. She intended to prove herself this time, like she’d been trying to do since the moment of her birth, it seemed. She read her notes again. Cal Crawford. Cal like California and Crawford like…Joan? Just a helpful little memory game, like those she’d used to stagger through college algebra.
Parking on the wide sweep of drive, she was admitted past a breathtaking marble foyer and into an even fancier living room by a man in a suit. The color palette of blues and grays was soothing, the perfect backdrop to the sleek furniture.
“Mr. Crawford will be here in a moment,” said the man in the suit.
Before she could strike up a conversation, he excused himself with a, “Please make yourself at home.”
Home? Her home was a rented room above a pierogi shop with an old fruit crate serving as a coffee table and a view of a parking lot. This place was all shining wood floors, rich oil paintings, and manly leather furniture. Should she sit? No, too familiar. She stayed standing, hands in her pockets. No, that wasn’t professional. She tried clasping them behind her back. Too schoolgirl. Folding her arms across her chest? Confrontational. She was just going for one hand on her hip and the other resting on the pristine oak sideboard when a dog skidded into the room, nails scrabbling for purchase on the wood floor.
She was clearly an old dog, her coat a soft butterscotch color and her muzzle graying. Two droopy ears framed a set of eyes filmed with cataracts, mournful and expectant at the same time. The animal slipped and slid, finally coming to a stop at Gina’s feet.
Forgetting her professional demeanor, Gina dropped to her knees and caressed the dog. “Aren’t you a sweetie?” she crooned in baby talk. It was something that happened every time she spoke to a dog. Her vocabulary regressed some twenty-seven years, much to her cousin’s dismay. “What’s the matter, little pumpkin pie? Is this horrible floor too slippery for you?”
“The horrible floor happens to be mahogany, and its nails are leaving scratches.”
She leapt to her feet so fast her head spun, finding herself face to face with a man a good six inches taller. He was lean and muscular with a stubble of brown on his tanned chin, chocolate eyes regarding her from under thick brows. Handsome, but handsome was way overrated, as she’d recently learned.
She pulled up his last name from her ragged short-term memory files. Crawford like Joan. “You must be Mr. Crawford.”
“Cal, and you are Lexi?” He eyed her skeptically. A lazy drawl added unexpected softness to the words.
The moment of truth. Time to sell it, Gina. “Actually, I’m her cousin Gina. Lexi had to have some minor surgery done, so I’m filling in.”
One brow wriggled upward. “And you’re a dog expert?”
She tugged on her jacket. “Of course. Don’t I look like one?”
His mouth quirked. “I guess. You just sounded funny when you were talking to it.”
“You mean the dog?” She hoped her cheeks weren’t too badly flushed, but there was no hope, really. A strawberry blonde with skin a shade lighter than a fish belly ensured that the slightest embarrassment lit up her face like a neon sign. Always had. She went for dignified. “I was informed the dog is a female, Mr. Crawford. Is that correct?”
“You can call me Cal. Yeah. Name’s Tippy.”
They both looked at the sprawled creature that had flopped over on her side, stubby legs twitching.
“She wants a tummy scratch,” Gina said.
Cal looked at her like she was suggesting he swallow a live toad.
“Like this,” she said. Kneeling again, she scratched Tippy’s stomach. The dog let out a snuffle of pure contentment and closed her eyes. “See?”
Cal shifted. “Listen, Gina. I have to make something clear. I’m busy. I’m a pitcher for the Falcons and we’re just heading into spring training.”
She kept on scratching and looked up at Cal. “Uh huh.”
“It’s a rigorous schedule. Conditioning, strategy work, studying film, lots of press time.”
She resisted an eye roll. If you think playing a game is rigorous, try teaching kindergarten.
“And I’m on the road a lot. When the season starts, I’m traveling all the time.”
Yep, hard life. Four-star hotels. Private planes. Catered meals. Gina tried to recall what she’d had for breakfast. A two-day-old egg roll.
“Are you listening to me?” Cal demanded.
Lexi’s admonishment resurfaced. Kid gloves. She stood. Tippy cracked an eyelid but did not move.
“Yes, Mr. Crawford. On the road. Traveling. Rigorous. I was listening.”
He shoved his hands in the pockets of his expensive jeans which, she noticed, fit him extremely well.
“Anyway, I don’t have the time to care for it.”
“Her.”
“Yes, her,” he snapped. “I want you to take her.”
“Take her?”
“Can you do that?” A sheen of hope washed over his face. “Take Tippy to live at your house? I’d pay whatever you want.”
“I’m sorry, but my landlady doesn’t allow dogs.”
His mouth tightened. “I’ll rent you another place. A house, or a condo. One that takes pets. I�
��ll pay for it all. And living expenses.”
She gaped. Blood rushed to her cheeks, no doubt broadcasting her emotions, notably the anger that fizzed up in her belly. “Listen, Mr. Crawford. I realize you’re a big shot athlete and all that, but I’m not some desperate girl who’s going to let men rent living spaces and pay my expenses. I’m a pet sitter. That’s it, and you can find yourself another one, by the way.” She stalked to the door. Not waiting for the suited man to appear and open it, she wrenched the handle herself.
“Wait,” Cal called, stepping over the still sprawled dog. “Wait, I…I apologize. I didn’t meant to insult you. I’m just sort of desperate.”
She turned, searching for sincerity in his expression and finding a gleam that might qualify, but her man judgment was not the greatest, as recent history bore out. “Why do you own this dog when you clearly don’t want her?”
He paused. “Inheritance.”
“From whom?”
He looked down, suddenly morphing into a little boy. “My mom.”
His mother. Lexi told her his mother had passed away of cancer some six months before, but she’d forgotten. “I’m sorry.”
He rubbed a hand over his face, which she now noticed was lined with fatigue. “She loved the dog. Told me all kinds of stuff about it.”
Stuff? Cal clearly had not spent much time with his mother, yet for some reason he was making an effort to hold onto her beloved dog. Minimal effort, but it was a point in his favor. A very small one. Gina allowed herself to relax a tiny bit. She removed the list from her pocket and reviewed. “I’m happy to help you care for Tippy according to the terms of the contract you signed with my cousin. Grooming and feeding, vet care when needed, a daily walk schedule, and training where appropriate.”
“You wrote that all down?”
“It helps me remember. If you want something else, you’ll have to hire a different service.” She held her breath. With her cousin laid up and her other employee scrambling to cover their current jobs, this one would be Gina’s alone until Lexi recovered.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay. When can you start?”
She tried to hide her grin. “Right now. I’ve got a leash in the car.”
“Fine,” he said, exhaling in relief. “That’s great.”
Gina checked her watch. “When was the last time she ate?”
“Dunno. Think the cook gave her some oatmeal for breakfast.”
“Oatmeal? You don’t have dog food?”
He shrugged helplessly. “I didn’t know I was getting a dog until yesterday. We just gave our working dogs whatever meat was leftover from meals.”
“All right. If it’s okay to take Tippy for a drive, we’ll go by the pet store and pick up some supplies.”
“Take her anywhere you want.” After a relieved exhale, Cal patted his pockets. “Oh, sorry. My wallet is upstairs. I’ll be right back.”
“Never mind,” Gina said. “I’ll bill you.”
He nodded. They both looked at Tippy who had not moved, short legs still frozen in the air.
“How long can she stay like that?”
Gina laughed. “Until someone scratches her tummy again.”
“Huh.” Cal did not laugh as he said goodbye and headed toward the back of the house, but his grimace was not quite as bad, she thought. And why wouldn’t he be more cheerful? He’d just offloaded the well-being of his mother’s beloved pet to a stranger. Tippy’s sad gaze followed Cal as he left the room.
“Well, Tippy,” she whispered to the prostrate dog. “Your owner has a real chip on his shoulder, doesn’t he? How are you feeling about your new digs?”
Tippy let out an enormous sigh that ruffled the soft lips of her graying muzzle.
“My sentiments exactly.”
Read more about lovable Tippy, and other amazing dogs and their humans, in the Love Unleashed series!
Sit, Stay, Love
Take one abrasive professional athlete, a quirky out-of-work school-teacher, and an overweight geriatric dog, and you’re ready for a lesson in love…Tippy style. Discover the charming story of the dog that brought a family together.
Fetching Sweetness
After breaking off a bad engagement, Stephanie Pink believes achieving her lifelong dream of becoming a literary agent is just the distraction she needs. But how was she to know her career path would take her along the back roads of the Pacific Northwest in a thirdhand RV with mystery man Rhett Hastings?
Paws for Love
An over-the-hill actor, a shy violinist, and a handsome chocolatier have their lives turned upside-down by a naughty terrier named Jellybean. It’s actors, animals, and antics galore in this heartwarming tale of love and second chances.
More eBooks in the Lori Wick Short Stories Collection
Vol. 1:
Be Careful with My Heart
The Haircut
Volume 1 opens the collection with a story of finding love after heartbreak in “Be Careful with My Heart.” Casey and Hunter are thrown together in a traveling singing group during the summer; can they overcome their own personal losses and together find God’s comfort for their hearts? The charming vignette, “The Haircut,” follows next as the future of young Bobby’s hair is altered during a summer camping trip.
BONUS! Chapter One from Lori Wick’s popular full-length novel The Princess is included.
Vol. 2:
Beyond the Picket Fence
Volume 2 reveals the blossoming love story of “Beyond the Picket Fence.” Dominique “Nikki” Brinks thought moving back to her small hometown would give her more time to write children’s books. She didn’t expect to find two very special children and their father right next door. As Nikki’s sweet spirit brings healing to two little hearts, she discovers the abundant love God has waiting for her beyond the picket fence.
BONUS! Chapter One from the first book in Lori Wick’s endearing Rocky Mountain Memories series, Where the Wild Rose Blooms, is included.
Vol. 4:
The Rancher’s Lady
Volume 4, “The Rancher’s Lady,” showcases Lori’s western romance flair. Shasta McGregor leaves Australia for a temporary wrangler position in California, giving her heart time to heal after being jilted by her fiance. Kyle Harrington, the ranch’s crusty owner, at first mistakes Shasta’s natural, graceful beauty for lack of skill. Although in time they soften toward one another, it takes a tragedy for them to wonder–could God have brought together this rancher and this lady?
BONUS! The Prologue and Chapter One from Every Little Thing About You, the first book in Lori Wick’s Yellow Rose Trilogy, is included.
Christmas Special:
Christmas for Two
The Christmas Gift
Lori Wick’s Christmas Special features two uplifting holiday stories. In “Christmas for Two,” Stan and Ellen face their first Christmas as empty-nesters. They must decide whether to spend it with their daughter or to fulfill Ellen’s lifelong wish to celebrate in Disneyland. In “The Christmas Gift,” Brenda has been in foster care with the Hartmans just long enough for the entire family to adore her. Will Brenda’s first Christmas in a real home show her God’s love, and will the family’s surprise gift to Brenda fulfill all her hopes?
BONUS! Several chapters from The Hawk and the Jewel, the first book in Lori Wick’s famous Kensington Chronicles, are included.
Other Books by Lori Wick
A PLACE CALLED HOME SERIES
A Place Called Home
A Song for Silas
The Long Road Home
A Gathering of Memories
BIG SKY DREAMS
Cassidy
Sabrina
Jessie
KENSINGTON CHRONICLES
The Hawk and the Jewel
Wings of the Morning
Who Brings Forth the Wind
The Knight and the Dove
ROCKY MOUNTAIN MEMORIES
Where the Wild Rose Blooms
; Whispers of Moonlight
To Know Her by Name
Promise Me Tomorrow
THE CALIFORNIANS
Whatever Tomorrow Brings
As Time Goes By
Sean Donovan
Donovan’s Daughter
THE ENGLISH GARDEN
The Proposal
The Rescue
The Visitor
The Pursuit
TUCKER MILLS TRILOGY
Moonlight on the Millpond
Just Above a Whisper
Leave a Candle Burning
YELLOW ROSE TRILOGY
Every Little Thing About You
A Texas Sky
City Girl
STAND-ALONES
Sophie’s Heart
Every Storm
Pretense
The Princess
White Chocolate Moments
Bamboo and Lace
About the Author
Lori Wick is the bestselling author of 39 books (more than 6.3 million copies sold), including the popular Rocky Mountain Memories and Californians series, the Tucker Mills Trilogy, and stand-alone novels such as Sophie’s Heart, Pretense, and Bamboo and Lace.
Now for the first time ever, Lori’s short stories are released to her ebook readers in this new Lori Wick Short Stories collection, with a personal note from Lori after each story.
About the Publisher
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To learn more about Harvest House books and to read sample chapters, visit our website:
www.harvesthousepublishers.com
HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS
EUGENE, OREGON
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