Chasing Tail

by Roxanne St Claire

  “Run from you that night or run for office now?”

  “Both.”

  She smiled at his quick comeback, but wanted to be completely honest. “That night, I ran on principle. Not holding a grudge, but you did embarrass me pretty bad.”

  “I’m really sorry.” There was no way the apology was anything but genuine.

  “Then all is forgiven. But about the mayoral race? I’m running because…” She didn’t want to reveal the story of her mother and Mitch Easterbrook. The seasoned politician in her knew better than to give the competition that kind of information.

  Mitch, in some weird way, could be trusted to be quiet about it, since having had an affair with a married woman almost twenty years ago could only hurt him. But if Connor—or anyone in town—heard the story that her family had kept buried and thought she was running against Mitch out of pure revenge? Or that she was somehow as tainted as her mother? No matter how it came out, it could only hurt her. The truth was she was running because she knew Mitch was scum and shouldn’t hold the job.

  “Wow, this is taking a long time,” he joked. “You really need to work on your canned answers, Madam Candidate.”

  She smiled. “Okay, I’m running because I think I could do an amazing job and because I lived here for a long time and think highly of the town.”

  “Whoa, that was canned, like a freaking sardine.”

  “But it’s true.”

  “Really, because you lived here was past tense. And you think highly of the town?” He gave out a little dismayed snort. “Bitter Bark’s in my blood, Sadie. I went past ‘thinking highly’ of it when I was six years old and had my first pastry at Linda May Dunlap’s bakery. Which is still there, if you’re interested.”

  “Then why are you using a gimmick to get elected?” She gestured at Frank, who responded by coming closer to Connor and nudging his nose into his knee.

  “How can you look at this adorable beast and call him a gimmick?”

  She laughed. “You have me there. Though, full disclosure, I’m a cat person. And you’re right, Frank has a very, uh, distinctive look.”

  “Hear that, Frankie? The lady called you distinctive. I hope that’s not a euphemism for ugly.”

  “Connor!” She gave him a little jab with her elbow. “I didn’t say that. He’s quite handsome. Also, naming him after the late mayor?” She made a thumbs-up sign. “Someone’s giving you genius campaign advice.”

  He looked away, past her, swallowing as if he wanted to say something but held back. Frank took a few more steps, heading back to the grass and trees while they walked.

  “Well, you know this town is all about dogs,” he finally said.

  “Yes, the Better Bark campaign.”

  “My cousin’s wife’s idea, by the way.” He leaned a little closer, letting their arms touch. “Who also happens to be the director of tourism and Mayor Wilkins’s niece.”

  “A little nepotism never hurt anyone,” she teased. “Funny, your grandmother didn’t mention that.”

  “Gramma Finnie?” He stopped and frowned at her. “When did you talk to her?”

  “She was at my nana’s house for a sewing club meeting.” She lifted her brows to deliver the next bomb. “She and her friend sent me to town hall to be your campaign manager.”

  His jaw loosened. “My…her friend…” Then he shut his eyes and shook his head. “Oh no. That’s not why they sent you.”

  “I got that, too.” She laughed. “They fancy themselves matchmakers?”

  “No fancying. They believe they are the yentas of Bitter Bark and have a few successes under their belts to prove it. I’m sorry if they were…” He shook his head. “No. Never mind. I’m not sorry. They have impeccable taste, and you should date me.”

  “You never quit, do you? We’re opponents, Connor. We can’t date.”

  “Who made that stupid rule?”

  “It’s not stupid. It’s for the safety and security of the campaign.”

  “Still stupid.” He looked past her at Frank. “Oh no.” Jerking to the side, he launched toward the dog, seizing his head and sticking his finger in his mouth. “No, Frank. No eating rocks.” He knocked a few to the ground. “Bad habit he picked up in the woods,” he said, trying to open the dog’s jaw wider. “Don’t swallow that, Frank!” He stuck his finger in deeper and got chomped a bit, but he didn’t give up until he got the last rock out of the dog’s mouth.

  “Would it hurt him if he swallowed it?”

  “Depends on the size. Most likely, he’d pass it. But if a sharp edge got him, he’d need an X-ray to make sure he’s not bleeding.” He patted the dog and guided him back to Sadie. “No rocks, Franko. Bad boy.”

  Instantly, Frank folded on the ground and hid his face behind a big paw.

  “Oh, he doesn’t like to get reprimanded,” she said with a little coo in her voice. “He’s like a gentle giant.”

  “That’s for sure.” Connor knelt next to him with no regard for his khaki pants, just the dog he stroked with a tender touch and large hands. “He looks tough, but scares easily. And he doesn’t trust anyone but me. It’s okay, Frank. You didn’t swallow anything.”

  “Then he’s lucky he found you.”

  “I’m lucky I found him,” Connor said. “He gave me the incentive I needed to run for mayor. Well, for him to run.” He looked up. “Which reminds me, except for your canned answer, I still don’t know what your incentive was.”

  Mitch Easterbrook. She shrugged. “I love politics.”

  “And hate me.”

  The words cut more deeply than she expected them to. “I don’t hate you, Connor. Oh my gosh, I’m sorry you think that.”

  “So you don’t still hold it against me that I won your office on a bet?”

  “I don’t,” she said. “And that’s not why I’m running.”

  “Then why is a big-time congressional staffer and deputy chief of staff sniffing around the mayor’s office in a town the size of Bitter Bark? I really want to know.”

  “Sniffing? Says the man with a dog on the ticket.”

  “Don’t use jokes to get out of answering,” he warned. “That’s my technique. Get your own. And I’m serious. What takes a person from Capitol Hill to Bushrod Square?”

  “A long and complicated road.”

  He stood, holding her gaze with one that demanded an answer. “I’d love to hear about it.”

  And something deep inside her knew she’d love to share it. He’d make her laugh and see it all differently, and then he might kiss away all the hurt.

  “You’re going to have to answer the question sooner or later,” he said after her long hesitation. “So, practice on me.”

  She sighed and glanced around again. “Bushrod Square,” she said instead. “It’s the one thing that doesn’t change about Bitter Bark, you know? But I see it could use a little sprucing up. What are Frank’s plans for increasing the maintenance budget?”

  “Don’t change the subject, DC.”

  “I didn’t. I turned the question around. It’s my technique.”

  “Good to know. My guess is you left Washington for a reason, and it’s a doozy. You know I’m not going to sleep until I know. So I’m going to ask one more time. Will you let me take you out so you can tell me your whole story, and I can make up for not only beating you for class president, but also for stupidly not paying attention to you when I had the chance? Because I know that’s kind of irking you, too.”

  Damn it, he was right. And the word yes was right there, ready to roll out in a single breathless whisper. But something stopped her. Resentment from the past? Fear that he really could get the whole story about Nathan and Jane over dinner and the Mitch Easterbrook saga for dessert? Or then, when it was all done, that she’d fall into bed with him.

  Oh, Sadie. Catch yourself before you get smashed into a million pieces again.

  “You know what’s the first thing you learn in DC politics?” she asked.

  “How to lie?” />
  She brushed off the joke and refused to let him know how true it was. “Not to date”—anyone—“your opponent.”

  “But you’re not officially announced as a candidate yet. So we could squeeze in one, quick…” He leaned just a little closer, near enough that she could see the speckles of navy in his blue eyes and the golden tips of his thick lashes. “Dinner.”

  “As if you’d stop at dinner,” she whispered.

  “I’d stop where you said stop.” He drew back. “And when you say stop. So, if you want me to stop asking you out, just say so, and I will. Until you do, I’m going to keep trying.”

  She opened her mouth, but damn, she just couldn’t say the word. Because if she weren’t running against him for mayor…then she might give in to all the electricity shooting through her body. Broken hearts be damned. He’d be good for the body, if not the soul.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Connor.” As she backed away, still holding his gaze, he broke into a grin, and Frank took a few steps closer to her, taking a quick lick of her knuckles. “Oh! I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “Neither was I,” he said, smiling at the dog. “I guess he really is my wingman.”

  She rubbed the big dog’s head. “As if you need one. See you tomorrow, Lieutenant.”

  “You bet, Ear Girl.”

  Chapter Six

  “Look at that.” Shane Kilcannon crossed his arms and watched Frank circle the Waterford Farm training pen, led in a slow walk by his brother Garrett. “Damn, I do good work.”

  “You?” Connor snorted. “I haven’t done anything for two weeks but dole out treats and sweet talk.”

  “It’s working.”

  “Maybe.” Connor pressed his elbows into the wire fence separating him from the pen and Shane, taking a deep breath of early spring air that always seemed to smell a little better out here in the homestead that his uncle and cousins had transformed into a haven for dogs and people. “Frank still sleeps six inches from my face, follows me into the bathroom and shower, and has gnawed the crap out of my electrical cords and a pair of sunglasses. I almost wrecked my truck trying to get a dime out of his mouth the other day.”

  “But you did it, which is all that counts.”

  “Wasn’t going to let him swallow it, but damn, it worries me that he could eat something that could kill him.”

  “I get that. But remember, the dog could have gone days or more at a time without food out there in the woods,” Shane said. “You keep him fat and happy, and he’ll stop eating things he shouldn’t. But Frank’s real problem is he has trust issues.” Shane nodded at Garrett as he and the dog came closer. Garrett gave a signal, Frank stopped, then started walking again. “See that? See how he stopped when Garrett signaled? That’s progress, man.”

  “He does that all the time with me.”

  “You’re his savior, and after two weeks of food and affection, he trusts you. But someone likely dumped that dog in the woods and not as a puppy, or he’d have never survived. That means he knows love and he knows loss. Eventually, he’ll be a great dog, you’ll see.”

  “He’s already a great dog,” Connor said. “But how long will it take for him to trust anyone but me?”

  “Hard to say.” Shane frowned and ran a hand over his whiskers. “But it might not be before Election Day, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  Connor gave a look that said it was exactly what he was worried about. “It would be nice not to have him cower from voters.”

  “Especially now that there’s a new candidate on the slate and all.” Shane gave his signature know-it-all grin at Connor’s surprised expression. “Hey, I’m married to the director of tourism, remember? She said the new-candidate gossip spread like wildfire, if you’ll excuse the firefighting pun.”

  Garrett and Frank trotted over to where they stood, and Connor laughed when Frank pounced on the fence, trying to get to him.

  “No jumping, Franko.”

  “It’s really hard for him,” Shane said, giving the dog a gentle rub on the head. “That’s kind of his way of saying he loves you.”

  “When a simple bark would do,” Connor said, stepping into the pen when Shane unlatched the gate. He crouched down to Frank’s level to avoid the next jump. “Good job trusting Garrett, big boy. Try that with all the voters now.”

  Garrett laughed. “Yeah, ’cause they all might vote for Ear Girl.”

  Guess they’d all heard the news. “You remember that?”

  “Oh, hell yeah. I was right there. You totally mortified that poor girl in the cafeteria like the smug, sore winner you are. Or…” Garrett tipped his head. “Used to be.”

  Connor curled his lip as he straightened, kind of hating his seventeen-year-old self. Of course, he had an excuse, blaming the death of his father when he was sixteen for turning him into a teenage ass-pain. And these two, his closest cousins in age and friendship, knew that.

  “Hopefully, I’ll be a little more gracious in victory this time,” Connor said.

  “If you have a victory,” Shane said, earning a dark look from Connor.

  “You’ll win if she bases her campaign on some other inane body part,” Garrett said. “Those ear posters were bizarre.”

  “First of all, Frank is running for mayor,” Connor reminded them.

  Garrett looked skyward. “Right.”

  “And second of all, there’s no body part on her that could be called ‘inane.’ Hell, I think it’s fair to say even her ears are hot now. I don’t really remember her from high school, but holy crap, the woman is a dime and a half.”

  “And of course, you reduce a female to her lowest common denominator and your conquest to get her in bed,” Garrett said. “Are you ever going to change?”

  “Jealous much?” Connor’s quip came easy. Easier than trying to convince his cousin that Sadie was different and getting her into bed wasn’t…okay, it was what he wanted, but it wasn’t the only reason he’d been making a fool of himself around her.

  “Are you kidding?” Garrett looked hard at Connor. “Do you have any idea how happy I am since I met Jessie?”

  “Same with Chloe,” Shane chimed in.

  “Yeah, yeah. I got it.” Connor held up a hand. “Went to all three hundred family weddings and twelve christenings in the last two years.”

  “Whoa.” Shane wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, barely covering his smirk. “Someone’s pissed about a little more competition on the ballot. She could take votes from Mitch, too, you know. You should be glad she’s running.”

  “She’s going to take votes from both of us,” he said. “She’s smart and knows politics, and the whole town is going to be dazzled by her résumé and…dimples.”

  “Only you are dazzled by her dimples,” Shane cracked. “The rest of us just want a really good mayor.”

  Lola, Garrett’s tan and white Aussie, came hurrying over from the other side of the pen. When Garrett greeted her with a gentle pet, she dropped to the grass and turned over, paws and tongue out, making them all laugh.

  “Now how do you get that kind of trust?” Connor mused. “Frank wouldn’t do that in his most unguarded moment.”

  Garrett obliged the dog with a two-handed belly rub. “She didn’t show up this way,” Garrett said. “In fact, she didn’t let anyone near her until Jessie arrived to change both our lives.”

  “So I need…Jessie?”

  Garrett chuckled, but Shane eyed the dog, thinking. “He might just need a lovey.”

  “A lovey?”

  “It’s parent-speak,” Garrett explained. “A thing of…comfort. A stuffed animal, a soft blankie.”

  Connor felt his face twist up at his cousin. “Did you just say blankie?”

  Garrett shrugged, unapologetic.

  And Shane rubbed Frank’s head. “Sometimes a dog who’s been through such a rough patch needs something, or someone, that grounds him and makes him comfortable. When he finds that, he could change, you’ll see.”

  “How
will I know who or what that is?”

  Shane shrugged. “You’ll just know.” He grinned and pushed off the fence. “But brace yourself, you’ll be dragging that thing everywhere you go and kicking yourself if you leave it in a restaurant.”

  Connor thought of the mitten that Frank loved, but then he turned at the sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway, spotting the ancient refurbished dog van that belonged to his cousin Molly and her husband, Trace.

  “Looks like we got a crowd for Wednesday night dinner,” Connor mused, checking out a few of his family members already gathered on the wide wraparound porch that hugged the yellow farmhouse.

  Even from this distance, he could hear chatter and laughter. He saw Gramma Finnie and Yiayia in their rockers, his little cousin Pru, and a few of the new babies making noise. The side door banged as people went in and out before the informal dinner that was always served on Wednesdays at the home his uncle Daniel billed as “a hundred acres of happy.”

  Not one of the extended family would disagree with that description, especially now that Daniel Kilcannon had healed from the loss of Aunt Annie and married a woman who’d added her own crew and a Greek grandma into the mix.

  “Yeah, I’m starved,” Shane said. “Chloe’s in the kennels with Ruby. I’m going to get her, and I’ll meet you over there.” He headed toward the long clapboard building that housed all the Waterford training and rescue dogs, while Connor and Garrett started toward the house.

  Instantly, Frank rushed to his side, his fur brushing the jeans Connor had changed into for this afternoon training session. “Come on, bud, it’s dinnertime. Just don’t eat any wires or loose change.”

  “No worries,” Garrett said. “Patrick is walking now, did you see?” He beamed at the toddler taking steps in the grass near the porch, but still holding tight to his mother’s hand. “Jessie has been through this entire house and babyproofed it again, even though Fiona’s been toddling for a while now. I imagine with Danny and Annabelle crawling, it’ll stay that way for a long time.”

  Without waiting for any kind of response, Garrett picked up speed, and he and Lola hustled toward Jessie and Patrick. He swooped the little guy into his arms and gave Jessie a kiss on the lips. Once more, Lola fell to the ground and rolled over, submissive and unafraid.