Spring Forward

by Catherine Anderson

  Crystal looked at the dog. He wore a happy grin. “I think he’d love to go, if you’re certain he won’t be a bother.”

  Michael smiled. “He’s no bother.” He darted a glance at his father. “Tori is always bugging Dad to get her a dog. I’ve never really wanted one—until now. Rip is really awesome.” Michael turned and dashed away, saying, “Come on, Rip! Let’s go!”

  Tanner gifted her with a broad grin. “I think I see a puppy in my near future. Piddle on my floors. Stolen socks and destroyed shoes. What a joy.”

  “That sounds like the voice of experience.”

  “Oh, yeah. I had a dog. His name was Hoover. He was so christened because he went through our house like a high-powered vacuum, inhaling everything in sight. My folks let me adopt him from the pound. He was six weeks old when I got him.” He turned to follow his son at a much slower pace, calling over his shoulder, “Ate my football cleats the first night. Ate my math book the next afternoon. And it was my job to clean up all his messes. Will you please tell Tori we’ll be right back?”

  “You bet.”

  Crystal swung her feet over the table bench to get up. Tori saw her father and brother leaving and bounded off the merry-go-round to come running across the grass. “Where’s Daddy going?”

  “He and Michael are going to get dinner. If you’d like to go, your father is still within hearing distance.”

  Tori shook her head and beamed a smile. “I’d rather stay with you.”

  Crystal had expected the child to continue playing on the equipment, but instead she sat across from her at the table. Well, she didn’t actually sit. She knelt on the bench and propped her small elbows on the planks. For a moment. Then she turned a full circle, lay on her back to pump her legs as if she were riding a bicycle, and just generally wiggled, clearly so full of energy that holding still was difficult for her.

  Fascinated, Crystal watched her, feeling obligated to say something. “So, do you like school?”

  “Yep. Lots and lots.” Tori put her elbows on the tabletop again and fixed Crystal with a questioning look. “Is my daddy your boyfriend?”

  Crystal’s mouth went dry. Brain freeze. “I, um . . . well, we are friends, and he’s a boy—sort of a boy, anyway—so I guess it’s fair to say he’s a boyfriend.”

  A dimple flashed in the child’s rosy cheek. “Do you make love?”

  Crystal wanted to catapult off the bench and shout at the top of her lungs for Tanner to come back. She hadn’t been around little girls very much, and then only in the controlled environment of her salon. How on earth should she field that question? She decided to deal with Tori as if she were an adult.

  “That’s an extremely personal thing to ask me, Tori, and even though he’s your daddy, it’s really none of your business.”

  The child wrinkled her small nose, which sported a smattering of caramel-colored freckles. “I’m sorry. I was rude. Nana says I talk so fast my brain can’t keep up.”

  Crystal thought it was more likely that her brain’s processing ability far exceeded her maturity level. “Your father says you like to read your nana’s books.”

  Tori planted her pointy chin on the heels of her hands. “Yes. She hides them from me now, but I can still find them. She keeps switching places. Last time, I found one under her mattress.”

  Crystal gave Tori a long study. “Have you ever heard of Pandora’s box?”

  The child nodded. “Only it wasn’t really a box. It was a jar, and it was full of bad things.”

  Mentally, Crystal considered that. How did an eight-year-old child know stuff like that? Until this moment, Crystal hadn’t known that the box had actually been a jar. “Yes, bad things, but I think there’s a lesson to be learned for all of us from that story. Sometimes things that seem exciting and interesting are actually bad for us.”

  Tori’s gaze sharpened on Crystal’s. “You mean Nana’s love stories.”

  It wasn’t a question, and Crystal didn’t treat it as if it were. “Love stories are written for much older girls and women. At your age, you probably shouldn’t be reading about adult relationships. That’s not mentally or emotionally healthy for you.”

  “How come?”

  Crystal nearly smiled. “Because you should be reading about things that will help you grow as a person right now.”

  Tori grimaced. “That sounds boring.”

  “No, actually. When I was your age, I started reading Nancy Drew mysteries.”

  With a shrug, Tori said, “I read a whole bunch of them already. I was little then. Now I’m tired of them.”

  “Oh. Well, there are many other kinds of books that I think you may like. Since you love dogs, maybe you could start reading books about them.” Marley & Me immediately popped into Crystal’s mind, but it had a sad ending. “Have you read any of the Lassie novels?”

  “No. Are they good?”

  “Oh, they’re fabulous!” Aware that Tanner probably couldn’t comfortably afford to buy his daughter many books, Crystal quickly tacked on, “Maybe you and I should make a trip to the Crystal Falls library one afternoon, and I could help you find some really awesome dog books—not only novels, but possibly training books. How to raise a puppy.”

  Tori’s face brightened with an eager smile. “Daddy would like me to read how-to books. Maybe then he’d let me get a puppy!”

  Crystal wondered where the idea of taking Tori to the library had come from, but it was too late to retract the offer now. “Maybe. But even if you still have to wait for a while, you’ll know how to be a good dog owner.”

  Tanner and Michael reappeared just then. The boy bent to scratch Rip’s head as they stopped near the table. “The fast-food joint is closed,” Tanner told her.

  “You’re kidding. On a Saturday night?”

  “There’s a sign on the door that says the owner has houseguests from out of town.”

  Crystal couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s Mystic Creek for you. Most of the businesses are owner operated, and some people have no employees to fill in for them.”

  “How about we take Rip home and let him finish destroying the laundry room while we eat a proper dinner at the Cauldron? I’ll do the repairs as payment for the pleasure of your company.”

  “That sounds fun. I’ve been craving Sissy’s home-style pot roast.”

  “That settles it, then.”

  “If she has beef bourguignon on the menu tonight, I highly recommend it,” Crystal told him.

  “Yuck!” Michael straightened from rubbing Rip’s ears. “When we eat out, I like stuff we never get at home. Do they serve cheeseburgers and French fries there? I can make do with spaghetti and meatballs, too.”

  Crystal got up. “Sissy’s burgers are legendary. Her dinner offerings change daily, though. I don’t know if it’s a spaghetti-and-meatballs night, but if it is, you’re in for a treat.”

  * * *

  Crystal hadn’t realized how much she’d missed dining at the Cauldron. Not only had she yearned for the wonderful food, but it had also been far too long since she’d seen some of her friends. She introduced Tanner and his kids to Christopher Doyle, one of her favorite people, who had grown so gaunt with age that he resembled a stick figure with skin and saggy clothes draping his frame. After Tanner led them to a table and they were seated, Tim and Lynda VeArd stopped by to say hello before they left the restaurant.

  “Early night for us,” Lynda, an older redhead, said after the introductions were made. “Our puppy misses us when we’re gone and drools all over the car seats.”

  Crystal remembered that they had recently gotten a dog out of the same sire and dam as Ben Sterling’s Australian shepherd, Finnegan. Ben was busing tables for his wife, Sissy, who had learned she was pregnant about two months ago. He seemed to worship the ground she walked on, and tonight he was looking after her with an eagle eye.

&nbs
p; “How’s that dog working out for you?” His hands laden with dishes, Ben stopped to stand beside Tim. In the overhead light, his burnished hair glistened like varnished oak. “He’s what—six months old now?”

  Tim, a tall, robust man with a full head of snow-white hair, a friendly countenance, and merry blue eyes, laughed and said, “Five months, and he’s sharp as a tack. Sits, lies down, and rolls over on command already.”

  “And breaks the stay every time Tim turns his head,” Lynda inserted.

  Ben laughed. Then his gaze sharpened on his wife, who was working behind the counter. “Gotta go. She’s lifting a fry bucket again. I’ve told her a dozen times not to do that.”

  As Ben rushed away, Crystal exchanged knowing grins with Tim and Lynda. All the regulars at the Cauldron had looked on as Ben and Sissy fell in love, and now they all felt as if they’d been partly responsible for the couple working out their problems and getting married.

  “Ben!” they heard Sissy cry in a scolding tone. “It won’t hurt me or the baby if I lift a stupid bucket.”

  “It’s filled with five gallons of water and potato wedges,” he retorted. He turned to the customers sitting at the bar. Blackie and Ma Thomas, two more of Crystal’s favorite people, were in the lineup. “I thought I could trust you guys to watch her.”

  Tim nodded. “Good man, that Ben. Sissy’s no bigger than a minute. I wouldn’t want her lifting that much weight, either.”

  “Tim, we need to run.” Lynda held up a doggie bag. “Some people take the leftovers home for themselves,” she said with a smile for the kids, “but ours are actually for the dog. He prefers his dinner warm.”

  “God save me,” Tim said with feigned frustration. “She spoils that puppy rotten.”

  After saying their farewells, the VeArds left. Tanner gazed after them. “They seem like nice people.”

  “The best,” Crystal agreed. “They own the local boat dock and marina.”

  “When do we get to order?” Michael asked, his tone whiny.

  “We just sat down,” Tanner reminded his son. “And it’s busy. They’ll get to us.”

  As if on cue, Sissy appeared, tablet and pen at the ready. “Hi, Crystal! Long time no see. It’s a pot-roast-and-beef-bourguignon night.”

  “Mmm, the pot roast for me.”

  Tanner ordered the beef bourguignon. Michael asked for the double cheeseburger with seasoned fries, and Tori wanted the chili dog. While they waited for their meals, Crystal told them about the history of the Cauldron, how it had been in shabby condition when Sissy inherited it from her aunt.

  Michael looked around. “So there didn’t used to be a fireplace?”

  “No. It’s much nicer in here now.”

  “Where’s Ben’s dog, Finnegan?” Tori wanted to know.

  Tanner fielded the question. “Most places that serve food can’t allow dogs to be inside. Finnegan is probably at home, just like Rip is.”

  “Oh.” Tori’s shoulders drooped. “I really wanted to meet Finnegan.” She cast a sharp glance at her father. “Not that I’ll get one like him. I want a blue heeler like Rip. When will I be old enough, Daddy?”

  “Soon.”

  “How soon?” Tori pressed.

  Tanner met Crystal’s gaze, his own reflecting his angst over feeling pushed to make that decision. Crystal was a complete rookie with kids. She had no sage advice.

  * * *

  Weary though she was, Crystal wasn’t ready for the evening to be over when Tanner drove her home and walked her to the door. Darkness edged close, deepening the spring twilight to darker shades of gray. The smells of a spring night in the country drifted on a balmy breeze, and they were surrounded with the mingled scents of wildflowers, new-growth alfalfa, freshly cut grass, and ponderosa pine trees, especially fragrant as they grew new shoots that stood at the tips of their branches like tiny light green crosses.

  Tanner’s gaze settled on her face, and she knew by his expression that he yearned to kiss her. She wanted that, too, so badly she ached. But his kids sat in the truck watching them, and Rip was barking nonstop in the laundry room. Even from outside Crystal could detect an urgency in the dog’s cries.

  “No doorstep kissing in front of the kids,” she said softly. “Besides, I’d better go rescue Rip before he decides tearing up my clothes isn’t enough revenge. The hamper may be next.”

  Tanner smiled and sent her an air-kiss instead of giving her a real one. Crystal watched as he sprinted out to his vehicle. He tooted the horn as he backed out onto the road. Crystal remained where she was until the dim glow of the taillights vanished around a curve. She sighed, feeling both happy and melancholy at once. Tonight she’d gotten a taste of how it might feel to be married and have a family of her own, and for the first time, she felt as if she were missing out on the best things in life.

  Then she turned to open the door, discovered it wasn’t latched, and froze. After picking up her car at the salon, she’d followed Tanner to the house, and he’d gone inside with her to put Rip in the laundry room. She distinctly remembered him trying the door to make sure it was latched. Crystal hadn’t locked it. In Mystic Creek she never bothered with such things. Crime was almost nonexistent.

  She stood well back and nudged the door farther open with her toe. A quick scan of the living room eased her mind. She saw no one, and nothing looked as if it had been disturbed. She stepped cautiously inside. It sounded as if Rip body-slammed the laundry room door when he heard her. Now that she was closer to him, she realized that he wasn’t just barking.

  He was growling.

  Her skin pebbled with goose bumps. She quickly retreated from the house and ran to her car as if the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels. Once inside the Equinox, she locked all the doors, fished her cell phone from her purse, and dialed 911, which connected her with the sheriff’s office. A woman named Doreen answered. Crystal didn’t know the woman personally, but she remembered the name because Sissy Sue’s mother was also a Doreen.

  “This is Crystal Malloy.”

  “Oh, yep, the gal who owns Silver Beach Salon. What’s up? You okay?”

  The plump woman had been with the sheriff’s department for over three years now, but according to gossip, she’d never memorized any of the police codes and was very unprofessional in manner. “I think someone may be in my house. My dog is locked in the laundry room, and he’s raising holy heck.”

  “Where are you? Not inside, I hope.”

  “I locked myself in the car.” Crystal realized her hands were shaking. “I’m a little spooked. What if it’s a man?”

  “What’s the address? I’ll send someone right out.”

  Crystal drew a complete blank. All her mail went to the post office, and she’d never had reason to use this address. “I, um . . .” She squinted to see the number on the mailbox. “The house is on East Sugar Pine. It’s getting too dark for me to read the numbers.”

  “You don’t know your own address?”

  “I just moved here.” Now Crystal understood why this woman had tongues wagging. If it were left up to Doreen, Crystal could have been stabbed to death before a deputy ever got here. “Would you just do something? I need help! Just tell the deputy that I’m on East Sugar Pine and a silver Equinox is parked out front.”

  “Okay. Hold on while I call it out.”

  Crystal maintained the connection, staring fearfully at the house while she waited. It seemed as if a short eternity passed before Doreen came back on the line. “Done. A deputy is on the way. But stay on the phone with me, Crystal. That way I can call for backup if there’s trouble.”

  “Okay.” Silence ensued. “What will we talk about?”

  “I don’t know. Hair color? I’m a natural blonde, but I’ve been dyeing my hair red for years. Getting tired of it. Need a new look.”

  Crystal couldn’t quite believe she was d
iscussing hair color while someone might have been ransacking the house.

  “I sure hope your burglar isn’t that underwear sicko,” Doreen observed.

  That rang a bell. Crystal remembered the girls at the shop talking about the peeping tom who had started entering houses and stealing lingerie. “He hasn’t been caught yet?”

  “Nope. They think he lives in another town and comes here where nobody will recognize him. He’s not dangerous, I don’t think. Just weird.”

  Crystal preferred not to bet her life on Doreen’s hunches. She could have sworn she heard the woman snapping her gum.

  Just then a white county truck pulled in beside Crystal’s car, and she saw a long-legged, brawny male deputy swing out the driver’s side. In the deepening dusk, she glimpsed his golden brown hair before he covered it with a dark brown Stetson. Barney Sterling. Crystal wished someone else had taken the call. Barney was a competent law officer, and she liked him, but one night years ago, she’d panicked over a skittering spider that she’d believed to be poisonous, and Barney had entered the flat above her salon to find her standing on the kitchen table in a skimpy camisole. Not many things sent Crystal into full-blown panic, but snakes and spiders did the trick.

  “He’s here, Doreen. Thanks. Gotta go.” Crystal ended the call and climbed out of her car. “Hi, Barney.” She quickly explained why she believed someone was inside the house. “On top of the door being unlatched, my grandfather’s dog is going ballistic.”

  Barney nodded. “Just to be on the safe side, please get back in your car and lock the doors.”

  Crystal turned to do just that and then stopped dead. “Whatever you do, don’t open the laundry room door. Rip, my grandfather’s dog, is in there, and he hates uniforms.”

  Barney gave her a thumbs-up. Crystal dived back into her car and watched him go into cop mode. It was surreal, like watching a movie. He drew his weapon before mounting the steps, and then pressed his back to the exterior siding next to the door, barrel of the gun pointed up, elbows tucked against his sides. She jerked when he reached around with his leg and kicked the door all the way open with the side of his boot. He entered the house with the gun at the ready. Sweat broke out all over her body.