by Gun Brooke
* * *
Tierney was relieved Giselle hadn’t chewed her out for not following orders. No way could she drive away to the damn grocery store unless she made sure Giselle was doing okay. Stopping to cuddle Charley and scratch Mister’s ears, she let her mind replay what had taken place in the music room. Yes, she hadn’t been smart when it came to her audacity to sing her original lyrics to one of Giselle’s compositions. When she thought about it, she realized that must have been downright insulting. Talk about stomping on an established artist’s work and with a deeply personal text about the composer herself. Groaning, she stood and grabbed the car keys and Giselle’s debit card, which she still couldn’t fathom Giselle letting her use. She’d probably set a limit on how much could be spent at a time. That would make sense.
As she drove down the gravel road and then turned out onto the main road leading to East Quay, her mind teemed with images of today and fear of what might happen tomorrow. Thinking about Vivian and Mike coming for dinner made her nervous. Tierney was a decent cook, but what if she made a mess of the meal? That would surely be the last straw that would lead to her being fired immediately. And she hardly dared picture what the guests would think of the stunt she’d pulled today, no matter that it hadn’t been a calculated move—not at all. No matter why Giselle had fled from the music room earlier, it hadn’t seemed to be because of Tierney’s text. At least not only because of that. Giselle had asked her to sing—and liked her voice.
Rubbing the back of her neck, she maneuvered the Jeep along the curvy road. Why had she sung such a personal lyric? A new one, with elements of Giselle in it! “Fuck.” Tierney sighed. “She probably thinks I have no sense of propriety. Just a lot of pretentiousness.” Mulling her dark thoughts over, Tierney was aware of how she skidded around the fear lurking in the depths of her mind. She truly didn’t want to leave Giselle and her work as her assistant and dog trainer. Tierney had such plans for turning Charley into the perfect dog for Giselle. She’d spent a very happy hour before she fell asleep last night, imagining how amazed and thrilled Giselle would become when she saw what Charley was capable of, so excited that Giselle would let her stay on. It was quite ironic. Here she’d plotted to find diverse ways to make herself indispensable and walked right into the trap of doing the exact opposite.
Gripping the wheel, Tierney pressed the accelerator harder and headed for the health-food supermarket in East Quay. She would simply do her shopping, put the groceries away when she got home, and then go to bed, no matter how early it was when she finished.
Only when she grabbed a shopping cart at the store did she realize she’d referred to Giselle’s house as “home.”
Chapter Eight
Tierney confessed to herself that she was hiding. Standing by the kitchen counter, she was preparing some of the ingredients for the dinner Giselle was hosting for Vivian and Mike. They hadn’t spoken more than ten words to each other, if that, since Tierney had come over to the main house this morning to make breakfast. Giselle had been pale and only answered Tierney’s questions with one-syllable words. Not that Tierney wanted to have a long heart-to-heart, but this was torture. She’d tried to figure out how to remedy the situation, which was foggy at best, and so had suffered from insomnia all night. She had battled this condition for as long as she could remember. Whenever something was unresolved, or she was worried about something, sleep eluded her. She’d ended up writing three more lyrics, despite whatever damage the first one had caused yesterday.
Checking the clock and realizing it was lunchtime, Tierney arranged a plate containing some light salad with croutons and dressing on the side on a tray for Giselle. She poured mineral water into a tall glass, hesitated, but then added two slices of lemon on a small plate beside it. After grabbing the tray, she forced herself to walk with determined steps to the music room. She could hear faint music and stopped, not ashamed to eavesdrop. It turned out not to be one of Giselle’s compositions, but one of Chopin’s etudes. Tierney wasn’t such a complete classical-music aficionado that she could pinpoint the exact one, but she could tell it was played with passion—perhaps even fury? It could well be that Giselle would be pissed off for being disturbed, but so be it. The woman had to eat. She knocked hard on the door to try to drown out the piano.
The music stopped so fast, Tierney snapped her head up in alarm. Great. Now she’d gone and done it. She didn’t hear the steps due to the insulation and jumped when Giselle yanked the door open. Good thing it went inward, or the tray’s contents would have spilled all over the place. Giselle stared darkly at Tierney with her head tossed back slightly, as in a challenge, but stayed silent. Her chest heaved in quick breaths, and Tierney realized she must have put all her soul into the Chopin piece.
“Your lunch,” Tierney said, indicating the tray with her chin. “Want it over on the table?”
Blinking, Giselle took a step back. “Yes.” She was quiet for a moment and then added, “Thank you.”
“I’m going to take Charley for a walk after I eat.” Tierney didn’t detect Giselle warming up but pushed forward. If she was going to be fired soon, she might as well try to make her mark as fully as possible. “I was thinking, since you’ll be indoors most of today, you might want to come along?” Tierney regarded Giselle cautiously, waiting for an eruption or icy, dead quiet.
“No.” Giselle sat down by the table and unfolded the linen napkin. “But you go ahead.”
“The sooner you interject yourself into Charley’s training, the easier you’ll find it to continue after I’m gone.”
Giselle dropped her fork onto the plate, wincing at the clattering noise. “Gone? Have you decided to leave earlier than agreed?” She didn’t turn to meet Tierney’s gaze but picked up her fork and stabbed an innocent piece of the salad and placed it in her mouth. Chewing with much more elegance than should have been possible for anyone to pull off, she placed the two lemon slices in the water.
“No. No. Not at all. I’ll stay as long as you need me,” Tierney said quickly. It would be disastrous if Giselle made her mind up that Tierney was leaving long before it was time. She groaned inwardly at how good she often was at digging herself into a hole and then pulling the dirt in over herself.
“Even if it’s longer than the agreed-upon two weeks?” Giselle still kept her eyes on the salad.
“Sure. I’m, um, you know, flexible.” Wanting to hide her face in her palms, Tierney remained standing there, back straight and trying to look like she wasn’t embarrassed.
“All right.” Putting down her fork, with obvious care this time, Giselle finally turned her head toward Tierney. “How far?”
“Excuse me?” Frowning now as she’d lost track of what Giselle could mean, Tierney stepped closer.
“Your walk. How far?”
“Depends,” Tierney said with new enthusiasm as the coldness had disappeared from Giselle’s demeanor, leaving only slight apprehension. “If you want to come with us, we can walk up and down your gravel road a few times. That way, we don’t risk anyone stumbling upon us and confusing Charley.”
Giselle’s expression softened. “Well. Yes. We wouldn’t want the dog to become confused.”
“We sure wouldn’t.” Tierney smiled broadly. “In half an hour then? I mean, that gives us time before Vivian and Mike arrive.”
“Sounds good.” Looking a bit ill at ease, Giselle returned to her plate. “See you out front.”
Perhaps she was starting to have second thoughts, but Tierney refused to give her time to back out. Pivoting on her heels, she closed the door behind her and returned to the kitchen. As she sat at the table eating her own salad, it dawned on Tierney what Giselle had implied. Perhaps she wouldn’t expect Tierney to leave after two weeks after all. It was a strange sensation to feel relieved about something like that, but Tierney did. Given she lived such a nomadic life by choice, it was even more unexpected.
Chapter Nine
Giselle had tried to think up anything that wouldn’t sound t
otally manufactured and cowardly, so as not to have to go on the damn walk. Had it been inside her fence, she could have done it easily enough, but moving about in open terrain—not so much. In the end, she realized that Tierney’s happy expression tipped the scale in favor of a walk. Her assistant had looked so excited to involve her in Charley’s training, which reminded Giselle of Tierney’s offhand comment about her leaving. Why this had brought everything inside Giselle’s mind to a complete stop, she couldn’t figure out, only that it didn’t sit well with her. Tierney had worked for her only five days, but it seemed much longer.
She pulled on her hiking boots, which felt like overkill for a walk back and forth on her gravel road, but knowing Charley’s antics, she’d need something with a good grip. The weather looked nice, and Giselle opted for a light windbreaker. When she walked out the door, she found Tierney and Charley waiting for her. Charley was sitting by Tierney’s left side but looked like she might shiver out of her skin from sheer happiness. When she saw Giselle, she made a half a move, as if she was about to jump up on her, something Giselle had found it impossible to teach her not to do.
“Ah-ah, Charley,” Tierney said, her voice low and firm. “Stay.”
To Giselle’s amazement, Charley remained sitting, even if her tail did its usual frenetic wagging.
“Why don’t we walk up to the meadow and let her run off-leash a little?” Tierney smiled. “If she burns off some steam, she’ll listen more carefully to us later.”
“To you, no doubt. To me? We’ll see.” Giselle walked to Tierney’s right, not at all comfortable as they approached the gate. Normally, she ventured outside her property only in her car, which she could reach indoors by way of the garage door that led to the mudroom.
“Oh, you’ll be surprised. Just use the same tone you use when I annoy you.” Grinning, Tierney winked at Giselle, who wondered if she was imagining the tiny hurt tone in Tierney’s voice.
Tierney smiled warmly and the moment passed. “Charley needs a firm hand but also a very loving one. You can easily break a retriever’s spirit if you’re too angry, but you can also be too lenient with them as well, since they’re such goofballs.”
“And here I thought it was just my dog.” Giselle spoke tongue-in-cheek, but her remark had some truth to it. Whenever she would see well-behaved dogs with good manners, she wondered what she was doing wrong with Charley. Had she given up when nothing seemed to go right? Yes. She had. She’d settled for Charley running wild on the property. Frances had taken her for walks, and it had stung that Charley usually minded her better. “I think it has more to do with me than her.”
Tierney snorted irreverently. “Perhaps to a degree, but retrievers usually mature later in life. They’re cheeky brats for the first three years, I’d say.”
“How do you know so much about dogs?” Giselle asked.
“One of the places where I stayed had a kennel. It was the one place I really liked. I lived there only six months, but I soaked up everything they taught me about dogs, training them, and different breeds. I practically camped out at the libraries of the towns where I stayed, reading all kinds of books about dogs. Occasionally I read about other pets, but dogs are my favorites.” Tierney shrugged. “Guess I can be educated, right?”
Giselle tried to wrap her brain around what Tierney had just said. “You said ‘one of the places you stayed.’ What do you mean?”
“I…oh, damn. You know I was in the system for most of my childhood and adolescence. In fact, I stayed in several different foster homes. Much like being an army brat, you know. A lot of moving.”
Tierney sounded like she’d repeated this information a million times. Dispassionately, she talked about what had to have been a hard childhood and adolescence as if it meant nothing. But this was clearly not the case. Aware that she didn’t know Tierney deep down, Giselle still could tell with reasonable accuracy that Tierney had to hide strong emotions to keep them from taking over. She recognized that particular trait, as she was the same way.
“Guess it can be hard to feel at home at any given place after such a start in life.” Giselle kept close to the tree line of the woods to their left as she spoke. The stunning vision of the open fields to the right elevated her pulse.
“Sure can.” Tierney eyed her carefully. “How long have you had problems with being outside?”
Guess that was only fair. Giselle rarely talked about her phobia with anyone, since the people around her already knew. “Always. It’s grown worse over time. Crowded places and stress make it even worse.”
“Do you feel safe only at the house?”
“My property, the car, and once I was on a secluded island when I wrote music for a movie.” The tropical island had been remote and heavily guarded, but very few people could live like that. “Like this, surrounded by woods, is all right. Open areas…are difficult for me.”
“What do you miss the most?” Tierney bent down and unhooked the leash from Charley’s collar.
“I didn’t know this walk would turn into a therapy session.” Tensing, Giselle shoved her hands into her pockets. Was this when she asked Tierney why the hell she’d written that song about her? She hedged. Did she really want to know? Could she handle that?
“Oh, God. It’s not that. We’re just talking about our illustrious pasts.” Tierney laughed, and again it dawned on Giselle how irreverent she sounded—but not callous. Perhaps that bubbling laughter was a coping mechanism. And who was playing psychologist now? Giselle sighed and was about to keep walking when she realized the tree line had ended and they stood several yards into the open field that was now twice the size of the former one.
“No.” Taking two steps back, she bumped into Tierney. “No.”
Tierney placed a gentle hand at the small of her back, not to stop her, Giselle realized, but to keep her from falling on the uneven ground. “Easy there.” Her voice wasn’t cheery now, but instead calm and with a tinge of alto. Much like her singing voice sounded. “It’s just us here. And Charley. Look at her. That proves my point.” She pointed at the racing dog that every now and then came to a dead stop, listened, sniffed, performed a ninja roll, and went on running again. “Goofball.”
Giselle remained where she was. Tierney’s hand against her back grounded her somehow, and she could breathe without wheezing. “She has so much energy.”
“Dogs are nuts that way. They can go at it until they’re totally bushed, and then they rest for twenty minutes, only to be ready for round two. I think they invented the term power nap.”
“I think you’re right.” Giselle glanced at Tierney, who stood so close, her presence should have crowded all her senses. Instead it felt reassuring and not invasive in any way. That was so strange. “I don’t think I want to go farther out into the field.”
“Then Charley better come on cue, because I’m not leaving you alone here.” Tierney stuck two fingers of her free hand into her mouth and gave a piercing whistle. “Charley. Come!”
Charley stopped so fast, she nearly fell. Looking over at them, she seemed to ponder if she could get away with tearing around the field one more time. If it was the fact that they gave her time to figure it out, Giselle had no way of knowing, but Charley gave a muted “woof” and came running.
“Here. Give her these and praise her to bits.” Tierney handed Giselle five treats.
Charley came to a sudden halt, nearly slamming into Giselle’s legs, and then sat down, her tongue lolling as she panted happily.
“Clever dog. Good girl.” Giselle gave Charley the treats and was rewarded with an affectionate lick along the back of her hand. “You’re such a clever dog. “
Charley clearly took that as an invitation and threw herself in her favorite position, on her back with her legs waving madly. Unable to resist, Giselle chuckled and crouched next to her crazy dog and rubbed her belly. “Such a lovebug, aren’t you?”
“Moff,” Charley replied.
Standing up, Giselle smiled at Tierney. “This
is new. I mean, she’s always been cuddly, but this, coming to me, especially when you’re right next to me, is very special.”
Tierney blinked and looked bewildered. Clasping her hands behind her back, she opened her mouth twice to speak before she said, “She wants to please you, but she needs to learn what you want from her. Once dogs, especially retrievers, learn what you expect and that they have no other option than to obey, they love working. And if Charley spends more time with you, working together, her training will go exponentially faster.”
“I believe you. You’ve done more with her than I’ve managed to accomplish in two years.” Still mystified at why Tierney seemed to feel awkward and now also appeared flustered, Giselle spoke quickly before she lost her nerve. “I realize this takes longer than we first agreed on. I mean, training both me and Charley.”
“I’m game if you are,” Tierney said lightly, shaking her arms loose.
“I am. If you can imagine remaining in East Quay for a little while longer, I’d be very grateful.”
Tierney now beamed, her open smile making her eyes sparkle. “I’ll stay as long as you need me, okay?”
Taken aback, Giselle could barely breathe. “How can…you can’t just say that.” Nobody could promise such a thing, give a carte blanche of promised time. “What if something happens to your family or friends?”
“I don’t have any family, remember? And as for my friends, I mostly see them online. I’m in contact with a few of my former foster-siblings and others with the same past.”
“But still—”
“I’m a nomad. I confess. But as out of character as it is for you to let me, a stranger, into your home, it’s just as strange for me to really want to stay and be of help to you.”
So. There it was. Giselle needed an assistant to help with her dog, take care of the house, and run errands. Tierney saw herself as the one for the job. Still, it was more than that. “You realize you sell yourself short, don’t you?” Giselle narrowed her eyes, rather pleased at the effect her expression had on Tierney. Back went her hands behind her again.
