by Rachel Lacey
* * *
T.J. aimed his truck for the open country roads outside Dogwood. He put the windows down and let the fresh, early morning air whip over his skin. He needed to get Merry out of his head before church, because right now his thoughts were definitely not appropriate to take inside God’s house.
Then there was the small matter of whatever the hell had happened after he told her about burying the foal. She’d completely panicked, then covered with that story about the sick baby at work, but he’d accidentally touched on something else.
“Who told you?” she’d said. Her eyes held that glassy look of fear he’d seen in many a hurt or cornered animal.
Whatever it was, he didn’t know, and it was none of his business. He needed to get his head on straight, because whether or not they succumbed to the chemistry that was burning them both up, she’d made it clear she wasn’t interested in a long-term relationship. When camp ended, they would part ways.
There was no sense wasting time and energy on what he couldn’t change. And anyway, Noah needed to be his top priority right now.
He drove until the sun blazed overhead, then turned his truck toward Sycamore United Methodist Church, where he joined Amy, Noah, his parents, and various other cousins and neighbors for Sunday service. After church, they all headed to Blue Sky Farm for EmmyLou’s kick-ass brunch.
Per their Sunday tradition, Trace let T.J. know which horses needed checking on, and he headed to the barn while his mom got the food ready. “You want to come with me and give me a hand?” he asked Noah.
The boy nodded, then followed him toward the barn.
“So what did you think of the first week of camp?”
“It was fun.” Noah sat cross-legged in a chair outside Jewel’s stall, his hands moving restlessly at his sides. He bent his head and picked at a loose string on his shirtsleeve.
“Amber misses you when you go home.” T.J. stepped inside the stall to check on Jewel and Ruby, her filly. At a week old, Ruby was already nibbling at her mother’s hay. T.J. checked her out fully, feeling her legs, both to check for formation and to get her used to being handled.
Ruby tugged at his shirt playfully, then ran in a circle around the stall. Jewel came over and nudged him, checking his pockets for the carrots he always carried. He fed her one.
“So I was thinking maybe you could stay over one night this week, sort of a slumber party with Amber. What do you think?”
Noah peeked through the bars and nodded with a wide smile.
“Maybe we can order a pizza, watch a movie. What movie would you like?”
“Air Bud,” Noah said.
“I haven’t seen that one. What’s it about?” T.J. held his breath, praying for an actual conversation with his nephew.
“A boy and a dog,” he whispered, then went back to picking at his shirt.
“A boy and a dog, huh?” T.J. gave one last pat to the filly, then stepped out of the stall. “Sounds familiar.”
He kept chatting as he checked on two other horses, with Noah mostly ignoring him, picking at his sleeves. He had a pile of strings in his lap by the time they were ready to head up to the house to eat.
Inside, no one was talking much as they all heaped their plates with muffins, biscuits, eggs, sausage, and grits. They ate until their bellies ached, lavishing EmmyLou with praise for her cooking, and then Trace and T.J. cleaned up the kitchen for her.
He found Amy in the hall and pulled her aside. “How are things? Has he talked about camp at all?”
She swiped a hand through her hair and shook her head. “Not much. He talks about Amber some. He’s asked if I can get medicine for my allergies so that we could keep her.”
“I’ll talk to him about it.”
“I think he has a little crush on Merry.” Amy smiled.
T.J. chuckled. “Yeah, I noticed that too.”
“That makes two of you,” she said with a playful swat to his elbow.
“What?”
“Oh, come on. You go all starry-eyed every time someone mentions her name,” she said.
“I do not.”
“You should go for it. I think she’d be good for you. She might even lighten you up a little.”
“Merry and I are looking for totally different things right now. And that’s not what I wanted to talk about. I’m worried about Noah. He seems to be talking less instead of more. What’s going on? Is something bothering him?”
Amy sighed, a deep, weary sigh that seemed to draw her in on herself. “It seems like it. He’s been especially agitated and withdrawn lately, and I can’t figure out why.”
“You don’t think it’s camp, do you?”
“Oh, goodness no. The only time he smiles is when he’s talking about camp. It’s the highlight of his day.”
“What then?”
Amy shook her head. “I can’t figure it out. School’s out for the summer, so it can’t be anything there. We haven’t made any changes at home recently, nothing to explain the way he’s acting.”
“I asked him if he’d like to sleep over one night this week. Maybe I can get something out of him then.”
“That sounds great.” Amy gave him a quick hug. “Let me know if he tells you anything, okay?”
“You know I will.” He felt the weight of her worry. One way or another, he’d figure out what was bothering Noah. He’d find a way to help his nephew. And Amy too. He had to.
* * *
Merry stared at the spreadsheet, then rubbed her eyes. She was taking a sleeping pill tonight. Desperate times called for desperate measures. And she was desperately tired.
Today’s shift had wiped her out. At least camp tomorrow meant only working the second half of her shift. Despite the heat and the sweat, she was enjoying working with the kids. They’d all made great progress with their dogs. Confidence was growing, bonds were forming.
Week one had been a success. Now she just needed to keep the momentum going into week two. She desperately needed the second half of her donation from T.J.
The rescue’s bank account was again sitting on empty. She was right back where she’d started two weeks ago, the night Amber had been dumped on her doorstep. She’d spent the first five hundred from T.J., plus modest donations from the event at Perry’s Pet Boutique and her pleas on Facebook.
How had she allowed herself to become so dependent on an anonymous benefactor? Stupid rookie mistake. The reality was, she needed to learn how to fund-raise on her own. It was ridiculous that she hadn’t made more progress toward bailing TBR out. She needed to set up more adoption events, get more active on social media, and find new ways to bring in money.
She’d be flat out for the next two days with work after camp, but Wednesday afternoon when she got home, she was going to spend the afternoon at her computer and figure this thing out. No more messing around.
With a sigh, she shut down her laptop and took the dogs out. She went to the medicine cabinet and got one of the sleep aids she kept as a last resort. She hated taking them, hated feeling like she couldn’t get to sleep on her own.
Just tonight. Eight hours of sleep, then a few hours on the farm to reset her system. Put a little salve over the rawness of Jayden’s screams.
So for that night, she slept deep and dreamlessly, and she arrived at camp on Monday morning feeling refreshed and invigorated. It was amazing what a good night’s sleep could do for a person.
By contrast, the kids were droopy and unfocused after a weekend off from camp.
“This puppy is impossible,” Parker announced at nine fifteen, after working with Chip for a mere ten minutes. “I give up.”
Chip hung his head, upset that he’d frustrated Parker, not understanding that the boy’s erratic yanking at the leash wasn’t an invitation to play tug-of-war.
Merry spent the next ten minutes working with them, helping Parker lower his voice and calm his body so that Chip could focus on his own behavior. The more worked up Parker got, the more hyper Chip became.
&
nbsp; Parker was able to get the puppy to sit, and with Merry’s help, lay down. As a reward, she took them outside for a sprint across the field to let boy and dog blow off some much-needed energy. Savannah, who’d been sitting by the riding ring drinking a Diet Coke, joined them.
When they returned, Merry got everyone some cold water, then swapped dogs with Parker so that he could practice with Ralph for a little while. Chip and Parker were still a work in progress. She wanted to see them working in harmony before camp ended as her own personal milestone. She also needed Parker to stick it out so that he didn’t give T.J. ammunition to withhold any of her donation.
“I see what he’s doing wrong,” Lucy said, after Parker had gone down the hall with Ralph. She pushed her wheelchair easily across the dirt floor of the barn, Bosley’s leash looped through her right hand.
“Oh yeah?” Merry had been impressed with Lucy right away. The girl had a commanding presence and a calm, firm hand with the dogs.
“He’s telling Chip different things with his words and his hands. See?” She reached for Chip’s leash.
Merry handed it over and took Bosley from her, watching closely. The last thing she wanted was to see Lucy yanked out of her chair by the troublesome pup.
Lucy looked down at Chip and in a clear voice, she said, “Sit.” With her left hand, she gave him the corresponding hand signal. Her right hand stayed in her lap, the muscles stiffened by her cerebral palsy.
Chip sat.
“Good boy!” She tossed him a cookie. “Down.” Again, she gave the verbal and hand command simultaneously.
Chip slid to his belly on the cool, dirt floor.
“Good boy, Chip.” She tossed him another cookie. “See? You’re a good puppy.”
“And you’re a good puppy trainer. That was perfect, Lucy. Would you like to help me work with Chip later this morning?”
“Sure.” Lucy smiled, her blue eyes bright. “I’m really enjoying camp. It’s a lot more fun than I thought it was going to be.”
“Oh yeah? I’m glad to hear it.” Merry knelt beside Chip to give the puppy a hug. “What’s been your favorite part so far, the dogs or the horses?”
“Definitely the dogs.” Lucy paused and bit her lip. “I wasn’t sure I’d be able to ride a horse, you know, with my legs. But it’s actually been pretty fun.”
“I saw you on Twilight on Friday. You looked great up there.” Merry stood. “I had my very first riding lesson on Friday too. I was pretty terrified.”
“Really? Your very first?” Lucy’s eyed widened.
“Yep. My first time on a horse.”
“Did you like it?”
“I did. I may even try it again.”
“I bet you’re good at it,” Lucy said.
Merry winked. “Well, I didn’t fall off.”
T.J. walked up behind them and put a hand on the back of Lucy’s chair. “You’re not a real rider until you’ve fallen off at least twice, or that’s what my daddy taught me.”
Lucy cringed. “In that case, I don’t want to be a real rider.”
“Me either,” Merry said.
“Don’t worry.” T.J. met her eyes for a moment, then looked down at Lucy. “I’m not planning to have any of you fall off on my watch. You want to keep riding past camp, be ready to hit the dirt at some point though. It’s all part of the learning experience.”
“If you say so.” Lucy looked unconvinced.
“Pat’s ready for you with Twilight,” he told her.
“Okay.” Lucy handed Chip’s leash to Merry and wheeled down the hall toward the riding ring, throwing Merry an apprehensive glance over her shoulder.
“Gee, way to psych her up for her lesson,” Merry said. “Get her paranoid about falling off.”
He shrugged. “It happens. She’d be fine.”
And with that, he turned and strolled out of the barn.
The rest of the morning passed uneventfully, but Merry couldn’t stop thinking about Lucy and her natural gift with the dogs. Before camp ended, she was going to suggest to her parents that they consider looking into a service dog for her.
Lucy was smart, and motivated, and resentful when her physical limitations held her back. A service dog could increase her independence and provide her a sense of purpose as well.
It was worth looking into.
After the kids left, she went up to the house to grab her purse. She found Noah in the kitchen, filling a glass of lemonade. “Hey, Noah, great job with Amber today.”
Noah froze, then bolted from the room, leaving a trail of lemonade droplets across the linoleum.
“Sorry if I startled you,” she called over her shoulder as she left. “See you tomorrow.”
She walked out to her car and started it to get the AC going, then went down to the barn to get the dogs. T.J. was in the pasture with the horses so she hustled Ralph and the puppies up the driveway to her car.
No need to invite trouble.
In the car, she checked her wallet as she did every day before she went home. It was silly; she couldn’t really imagine any of those kids stealing from her, and they weren’t likely to even see her purse up at the house.
She kept it in a back corner of the kitchen counter, where no one would notice it if they came into the house to use the bathroom during camp. Perfectly safe.
Her stomach plummeted as she counted the bills inside her wallet. Another five dollars was missing. She’d had a ten and two five-dollar bills in there this morning. One of the fives was gone.
This time, she was positive. Since the incident last week, she’d noted the amount in her purse before and after camp every day so that she could be certain in case they needed to bring an accusation against one of the kids.
Except none of the kids should have had access to her purse.
Then she remembered Noah in the kitchen, pouring lemonade. The way he’d run from her when she came in. Oh, no.
Was it possible that Noah had stolen from her? Why?
It made no sense. Noah was a good kid, a sweet kid. He was not a thief or a troublemaker.
But what if Merry wasn’t the only one with financial problems? Maybe this was Noah’s misguided attempt to help his mom. It couldn’t be easy for Amy as the single parent of a special needs child. The last thing Merry wanted was to cause more trouble for her, or Noah.
She slid the wallet back into her purse with a heavy feeling in her gut. For now, she’d keep the information to herself. She needed to be sure before she said anything to T.J., because he certainly wouldn’t take kindly to the idea.
If it turned out she was right, and she had to tell him his nephew had stolen from her, one thing was for sure: this would douse the flames between them once and for all.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Merry held her right hand in front of herself. “Stay.”
She stepped backward away from Ralph, and he sat, watching her closely. After several long seconds, she bent and clapped her hands. “Okay, come! Good boy.”
The dog bounded to her, wiggling with excitement, and she lavished him with praise while four little pairs of hands applauded his good behavior.
She turned toward the kids. “That’s what we’re going to be working on for the rest of the week: teaching them to stay. It’s a harder command than anything we’ve done yet, and it’s going to take a lot of practice. You guys ready?”
They all nodded.
“Okay, now that the demonstration is over, I’m going to take Parker and Lucy for their riding lesson,” T.J. said. Pat and his girls were already waiting for them outside with Twilight and Peaches.
“Noah, you’re up first with me,” Merry said. “Jules, you’re going to practice with Olivia while I work with Noah, and then we’ll switch.”
Merry put Chip and Bosley in the empty stall, then joined Noah and Amber in their usual spot in the corner. “You guys ready?”
Noah nodded. Amber sat beside him, tongue lolling and tail wagging. She had truly blossomed in the three weeks since c
amp began. Farm life suited her perfectly, and she adored Noah. Unfortunately, although Noah returned her adoration, camp was not having the same effect on him.
While the other kids developed confidence and social skills, Noah stayed in the corner, withdrawn within himself. His eyes held a vaguely haunted look that Merry knew all too well. Something was troubling him.
It had been a week now since the incident in the kitchen when she suspected he had stolen from her, and she was ready to get some answers. Only a week of camp remained. She was running out of time.
“I’ll let you in on a little secret that you might have already figured out,” she told him.
Noah looked up, his blue eyes wide.
“Some of the dogs already know the commands we’re learning in camp. Amber doesn’t. Everything she’s learned, you’ve taught her.”
Noah smiled, and for a moment, the worry on his face lifted away. “I know.”
“I figured. You’re a smart kid.” She tousled his mop of brown hair. “Ready? We’re going to start small to help her learn.”
Noah nodded.
“Okay, first I want you to come and stand here next to me.”
He stood and scurried to her side.
“Now I want you to ask her to sit, and when she sits, praise her.”
Noah raised his arm and gave Amber the hand signal to sit. She sat, and he grinned with pride, then gave her a cookie.
“That was great, Noah. Now I want to see you practice with the hand and the verbal commands. It’s important for her to learn to respond to both. Try it one more time.”
Noah repeated the action, this time saying “Sit” in a strong, clear voice. Again, Amber sat, and again he rewarded her with kisses and cookies.
“Perfect.” She patted his shoulder. “Great job.”
It was a victory every time Noah used his words to communicate. Not only was he speaking, he was asserting himself. It was a great life skill to have.
“Now, while she’s sitting, put your hand out in front of you like this.” She showed him. “And tell her to stay. You’re going to take a small step back, and if she stays, quickly go back to her and praise her. Make sense?”
