Chasing Tail

by Roxanne St Claire

  “And Frank’s really comin’ out of his shell, like so many strays must,” Finnie said. “He’s only a little scared of strangers. He does still like to eat rocks and jumps on Connor every time he sees him, but that’s just love.”

  “Well, he better not love the voters, because they might not like being jumped,” Sadie teased as she filled the pot with water.

  “Oh, he doesn’t jump on anyone else,” Agnes said. “But he does love Connor.”

  “Who doesn’t love the lad?” Finnie cooed. “He’s such a wonderful boy.”

  “Connor or Frank?” she asked again, giving Agnes a playful wink.

  “They both are.” Agnes put her hand on Sadie’s shoulder. “And they could use a campaign manager, among other things. Like a wife.”

  “Agnes!” Finnie tsked. “Have some tact.”

  “There’s not time for tact, Finola. This girl’s going to make her coffee and disappear.”

  That was the plan. But instead, she gave the sweet ladies a smile and an A for effort. “A campaign manager, huh?” She let the wife part go. “For a dog?”

  Suddenly, there were two Dogmothers on either side of her.

  “Connor is going to be the mayor,” Agnes said softly. “The dog is more or less a symbolic thing.”

  “Mmm.” She tapped the filter and resisted the urge to remind them that government didn’t actually work that way, but whatever. It was Bitter Bark, North Carolina, not Washington, DC.

  “Bitter Bark was named Better Bark a few years back, lass. Didya know that?” Finola asked.

  “Nana mentioned that to me.”

  “’Twas a wee bit of a symbolic thing, you know,” Finnie continued. “But it helped put the town on the map in a very competitive tourist market. And best of all, our coffers grew along with our reputation as the most dog-friendly town in North Carolina.”

  “Then a dog for mayor is a great idea.” The coffee hissed in the pot, drawing her closer.

  “You should help him,” Agnes plowed on. “Your nana said you don’t have a job at the moment, but we know you worked for that wonderful congresswoman. Jane…Jane…”

  “Sutherland,” she supplied. And the congresswoman was anything but wonderful.

  “And you aren’t, you know…” Agnes tapped the ring finger on her left hand.

  “Agnes.” Finnie shot her friend a deadly look of warning, then turned back to Sadie. “What she’s sayin’, lass, is that you’re not distracted by, you know, love. At the moment.”

  “Love,” she said, looking from one to the other with a deep sigh, hoping they got the message, “hasn’t been kind to me.” Before they could make promises about their handsome blue-eyed grandson, she added quickly, “And honestly, neither has politics.”

  “Oh, lass.” Finnie put a parchment-soft hand on her cheek. “When life plows your field, your soil is ripe for the plantin’.”

  She laughed and put her hand over the little grandma’s. “I’ll remember that.”

  “What my Irish friend is saying is that you should give both love and politics another chance.” Agnes leaned in closer. “Ever since your nana talked about you at our last meeting, we had, you know, a feeling. And our track record is, if I might say so myself, quite good.”

  She looked from one to the other. “I really don’t want to run a campaign for a dog,” she said, knowing damn well their feeling wasn’t about her working for the man. “I think the idea is precious, but…”

  “’Tis Connor folks will vote for,” Finnie said. “Assuming they don’t vote for Mitch Easterbrook.”

  Sadie almost choked. “Mitch Easterbrook?” The name tasted foul on her tongue, especially because it was never spoken in this house. “The undertaker?”

  “The very one, lass,” Finnie said. “A man of questionable character and ill repute.”

  For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, inching back as if she could get a little bit farther away from the idea of Mitch Easterbrook. Questionable character and ill repute? That was one way of describing him. Another would be: the bastard who seduced her mother, wrecked her parents’ marriage, and broke up a very happy little family.

  “He cannot be mayor of Bitter Bark,” she whispered to herself.

  “Exactly!” Agnes practically shouted the word. “Which is why Connor and Frank so desperately need you.”

  “Connor can’t beat a guy who has that much money and power,” Sadie said. She knew how campaigns worked and what Easterbrook was made of—pure, unadulterated corruption and a buttload of money.

  Agnes nodded furiously. “See? You already know what he’s up against. You’ll be such an asset to his campaign. His whole life, actually.”

  Sadie blinked at her, not really hearing this last pitch because her mind was whirring. Connor could lose—especially with the dog idea. Yes, it was newsworthy, but when people walked into that voting booth, would they pull the lever—or fill in the box, in this case—for a dog and his cute firefighter or a man who had every outward appearance of a leader? Mitch was very…persuasive.

  Just ask Elaine Hartman.

  “Something needs to be done,” she said under her breath, inching away from the coffee as that need literally pushed her to the door. “Mitch can’t be allowed to win.”

  The two women practically burst with excitement.

  “You’ll be such an asset to Connor’s campaign!” Finnie exclaimed.

  “He’ll need all that help with speeches and things.” Agnes tried to lift her brows. “You know, over long dinners.”

  Finnie clasped her hands and looked to the sky like her prayers had been answered. “Oh, lass, I remember your speech in that auditorium was so magnificent it stayed with me all these years. Something about…hearin’ with the ear…I can’t quite remember.”

  “E-A-R,” Sadie said, not embarrassed now but confident in the knowledge that she’d come so far since then. Plus, as campaign slogans for high school presidents go, it wasn’t awful. People sure as heck remembered it. “Experienced. Approachable. Responsible.”

  “And you spoke with so much passion and purpose,” Finnie added.

  Oh yes, she had. Every word had been meaningful, every promise easy to fulfill, every need in the school outlined with a brilliant plan to fix all the problems. Who cared what her slogan was? She was truly going to improve things.

  But Connor Mahoney went up there in his football jersey, cracked a few jokes, and winked at the girls. Nothing had really changed since then. This time, he was campaigning with a dog, but the stakes were so much higher. Maybe he’d win…but maybe he wouldn’t.

  “I have to do something about this,” she said, conviction rising up through her whole body, like a fire that had suddenly be reignited. A fire that had been doused that day when Jane Sutherland looked over her desk and faked an apology that stank like the spicy waft of her Shalimar. Sadie could still see Jane’s hand trembling, the pen in her fingers shaking as she tried to act like stealing Sadie’s boyfriend was no big deal.

  It sucks, honey, I know. And he’ll always care for you, but Nathan and I have something…different. It isn’t like we have any control over that kind of chemistry. You’ll move on, I’m sure. Now, do you have the latest poll numbers ready…

  And in some ways, Mitch Easterbrook was made of exactly the same stuff. He didn’t care about people, not really. But he could put on one hell of a show.

  “We absolutely cannot take a chance Connor would lose,” Sadie said softly.

  “Amen and God bless you,” Agnes said, putting a hand on Sadie’s shoulder. “Go now. He’s campaigning at town hall.”

  “He’s there until five,” Finnie added, nudging her from the other side. “I think he’s keeping an eye on the office, just to see if someone else throws their name in the hat. Today’s the last day to register as a candidate.”

  “The last day?”

  “Ladies!” Nana called as she opened the back door with two more friends in tow. “It’s time to start the stitching! Oh, Sadie, y
ou never got your coffee.” She gave slightly accusing looks to the two old ladies flanking her.

  The two dogs they’d brought barked and came bounding into the kitchen at the new arrivals, distracting everyone.

  “It’s fine, Nana,” Sadie said as she made her way toward the door, everything, including her precious latte, long forgotten. “I have something I have to do.”

  Agnes and Finnie exchanged a look that could be described only as victorious.

  “Thank you, Dogmothers,” she said to them. “It might not be exactly what you imagined, but…”

  “Just go, lass. We know you might not fall in love, but the Irish say, ‘You only regret the chances you didn’t take.’ You take this chance and see what happens.”

  “Oh, I know what’s going to happen.” She certainly wasn’t going to fall in love. But Mitch Easterbrook would lose the election. And right then, standing here in this kitchen where so many tears had been shed by her, her grandparents, and her father, all because of that awful man and her mother, his loss was all that mattered.

  She blew them an impulsive kiss and darted out the door to get that new job and new life she needed so much.

  Chapter Four

  Frank didn’t exactly love campaigning. But he was a smart dog and a quick study who learned that letting strangers pet him always earned a treat. If he swished his tail and didn’t back away and growl, he got two. And if he posed for a selfie with his constituents, Connor brought out a Beggin’ Strip, and a dog who’d spent God knew how much time alone in the woods would literally sell his soul for some fake bacon.

  “Good boy,” Connor praised and treated after a group of people walked away, headed around the corner to the Town Clerk’s office to register to vote in the election coming up in just under a month, on the lucky date of Saint Patrick’s Day. “You’re awesome, you know that?”

  His bright pink and ridiculously long tongue hung out as he eyed Connor’s midsection, no doubt ready to show his love with his usual upward vault.

  “No, no, Frankendog,” Connor whispered, reaching into his pocket for a tiny treat that he was now never without. “Sit like a good boy. Here comes…” He glanced at the huge double front doors as one opened slowly and late afternoon sunshine poured in to silhouette the person entering town hall. He blinked into the light at the shape of a woman moving with purpose toward him. And as the door closed and her body was no longer backlit, he saw her face. “Here comes trouble,” he finished on a whisper, slipping the treat to the patient dog. “The kind I really, really like.”

  Sadie Hartman looked around to get her bearings, obviously not familiar with the inside of town hall. It gave Connor a minute to observe the way her long hair-of-many-shades spilled over a white jacket like chocolate and caramel syrup over vanilla ice cream. She wore a tight skirt and heels, a businesslike look that was insanely hot, and a little more makeup than she’d had on the night they met. Didn’t need it, but he still wanted to kiss that color right off her pretty lips.

  Oh man. The jolt to his libido was powerful and sent a few aftershocks to his chest. This wasn’t run-of-the-mill sexual attraction. There was something about this woman that got under his skin. Not that he’d say no to what his hormones were hyped for, but remembering how easy it was to talk to her, the intelligence in her eyes, and the soul in her laugh made him want more than sex. At the very least, he wanted another chance.

  Ear Girl was way too enthralling to give up without a fight.

  “Come on, Franko.” He tugged at the leash. “Let’s go make her forget she lost an election eons ago. And remember just how much she wants to kiss the guy who’s gonna win this one.” He threw a look at the dog. “I mean me, not you.”

  As they approached, Sadie stared right back, long enough for Connor to mentally note that she didn’t seem the least bit surprised to see him standing there with a dog. He didn’t know if time exactly stood still or heavenly hosts sang in his head, but the silent seconds of eye contact were electrical enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck dance a little, while his whole gut tightened.

  “Well, if it isn’t Mercedes Hartman.”

  She smiled and wrecked him with those dimples. “And this…” She gestured to Frank. “Must be our local hero.”

  So she’d been following the story in the news. That gave him a shot of hope as Frank took a step backward and kept cautious eyes on her.

  “He’s too humble to admit it,” Connor said. “But yes, this is Frank, saver of children and town hall greeter. Say hi to the pretty lady, Frank.”

  “Hello, Frank. Aren’t you a handsome guy?” She took a step closer to reach out a tentative hand. “May I?”

  “He’s shy, but he won’t bite.”

  “Oh, hi, shy guy.” She rubbed his head, and Connor reached into his pocket for one more of the Milk-Bone Mini’s. “Give him one of these, and he’ll get a little friendlier.”

  She took the treat and held her hand open for him, unfazed by that big tongue on her skin.

  “Look at that,” Connor said, leaning closer. “You got him eating out of the palm of your hand…just like me.”

  She straightened and laughed, pushing some of that glorious hair over her shoulder. “Is that so, Lieutenant?”

  He put his hand over his chest with a slight thump. “She remembers me.”

  “Who could forget you?”

  “You, apparently, after seventeen years of carrying a grudge.”

  “Not grudge-carrying, I promise. It’s the future that I’m thinking about.”

  Yes. He took a step closer, locking on her golden-brown eyes and lowering his voice. “You just made my day.”

  “How’s that?”

  He let out a sigh, knowing that sometimes you had to show your hand to win the next one. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the night at Bushrod’s, Sadie. I fully confess I considered taking Frank on a walk past your grandparents’ house a few too many times in the past week.”

  “Creepy.”

  “In a totally non-creepy way. I wanted to see you again.”

  “And here I am.”

  He smiled and let his gaze drop over her business attire. “What brings you to town hall, Mercedes?”

  “Please, it’s Sadie now.” She petted the dog again, quiet for a moment. “Unless you prefer Ear Girl.”

  “Only if it makes you smile.”

  She rewarded him with a dimpled grin. “I should be able to laugh at my past mistakes,” she said. “I hope I didn’t overreact.”

  More hope zinged up his chest. “Maybe a little, but after hours of consideration and the promise of a do-over, I’m certain I’m the one who owes you a seventeen-year-old apology. How about if I buy you dinner and grovel for a solid hour, with heartfelt assurances to only call you Ear Girl if I’m nibbling your actual earlobe?”

  Her smile wavered, but he saw the warmth hit those whiskey-colored eyes. “Um…no. Thanks. I don’t think that under the circumstances…”

  The circumstances? She really couldn’t let go of that class president race. “Frank,” he said sotto voce to the dog. “Help me out here. Impress the lady and make her reconsider. Do the tail move, big guy.”

  Frank wagged his mighty tail, making them both laugh.

  “He’s cute, but…”

  “He’s running for mayor,” Connor told her before she could slip away again. “Surely that touches the heart of a woman who’s worked in government and politics.”

  She lifted her chin, an almost defiant look in her eyes. “I’ve heard.”

  “You have?”

  “I admit I thought it was…odd.”

  He laughed. “Bitter Bark’s a dog town now, Sadie. It’s perfect. And as mayor, my boy Frank is going to put the fun back into functions and fundraisers.”

  She inched one shapely brow up. “How…fun.”

  He had to laugh, liking her dry wit and the tease in the subtext. “You know, since you’ve been living out of town, you have to re-registe
r to vote.”

  “I have maintained a residence here for seventeen years,” she said.

  He frowned. “I didn’t know that.”

  “My father actually…” She took a breath and waved her hand. “Long story short, my dad moved to Austin when I left for college, so he put the house in my name and rents it out. That way, I kept state residence for UNC, and we saved a bundle in out-of-state tuition. So technically I am a resident.”

  He nodded. “But are you currently registered to vote?”

  “I don’t think so, but I do intend to fix that. I guess I should do that first.”

  “First? Before…”

  She looked around. “Do you know where I’d go to do that?”

  “Around that corner in the Office of the Town Clerk.” He pointed in the direction. “Do you have proof that you own the property?”

  “Yes.” She tapped her bag.

  “And a phone number?”

  “I need a phone number to register?”

  “No, but I need it to call you.” He smiled. “And make that dinner date. I’m free tonight.”

  “Connor.” She said his name on a sigh, as if it wasn’t the first time she’d thought about him. He liked that.

  “Sadie.” He matched the tone and sigh, making her smile. “Look, if you’re involved and not single or not at all interested…” He held up a hand of surrender. “I will back off. But if not, I’d really like to see you again. I’d hate to think an election I won in high school ruined my chances now when we’re both adults.”

  She scanned his face, obviously considering the offer, that whisper of a smile threatening to bring back those precious dimples.

  “It’s just one date, Ear Girl.” He lowered his voice to add, “He said with nothing but affection and interest.”

  She laughed. “You are smooth, Lieutenant, I’ll give you that, but…”

  “But not your phone number?”

  The smile faded. “You’re running for mayor.”

  Why would that matter? “Um, not technically. Frank is. I’m merely his chief of staff. I speak for him.” As if on cue, Frank came closer, looking for a treat, so he gave a bark and a tail swoosh, doing his job as a furry wingman and earning a soft, sweet, genuine laugh from Sadie that was music to Connor’s ears.