Fresh Tracks (9 page)

much of her childhood at her grandparents' in a house very much like Amy's. She'd built

forts in the woods,'caught toads from the nearby creek, and eaten wild raspberries on lazy

Sunday afternoons. This was home to her. She'd discovered recently, for the first time in

her life, that she was okay being alone with herself from time to time. Since moving out of

her house with Stephen and renting half a duplex, she'd begun to enjoy her own quiet time.

That didn't mean she didn't like going out, hanging with her friends or attending the

occasional party. It just meant that she was no longer cast into a blind panic when she had

plans with nobody but herself. Strange as it sounded, she felt that at forty years old she

was.finally beginning to understand herself.

There was still the loneliness, but she was managing.

By her calculations, she was a little over halfway through her walk on the woodsy path. She

could feel the rosiness in her cheeks from the brisk air, the blood coursing through her

veins, and then she heard a small whimper. She stopped in her tracks and cocked her head

to listen, furrowing her brow and wondering if she'd imagined the sound.

It came again, sort of a combination whine and snort. She followed it, the direction taking

her off the path several yards, until she came

upon a small dog. He was a terrier mix of some kind, curled in a ball and shivering at the

base of a tree. His brown wiry hair was matted and his big brown eyes were sad and wary.

He saw Laura and shivered some more, obviously too cold and lost to jump up and run away

from her.

"Oh," she breathed, approaching him slowly. "Hey there, little guy." She removed her glove and held her hand out to the dog's nose, keeping her voice soft and steady. "What are you doing out here? You must be freezing."

The dog gave Laura's fingertips a halfhearted sniff and then his pink tongue darted out

and swiped them gently, once. She moved her hand to his chin and scratched gently

underneath it, taking her time and letting him get used to her.

"We need to warm you up, little guy, and we need to do it soon. Have you been out here all night?"

She scanned the area, noting with bewilderment that there were no fresh tracks aside

from her own. Could the poor dog have possibly spent the entire night in that one spot?

The thought broke her heart. She removed her other glove and gently worked her hands

beneath his furry body, noting with a small bit of relief that his underbelly was still warm, although that fact made it seem even more impossible that he could have been there for

longer than an hour or two. Maybe the snow had fallen more recently than she'd suspected.

She made a mental note to ask Jo if she knew.

She scooped the little dog up in her arms. He couldn't weigh more than fifteen or twenty

pounds. She unzipped her ski jacket, tucked him into the front of it, and zipped it back up

part way, hoping her body heat would warm him up sufficiently. To her surprise, he didn't

struggle at all. In fact, he seemed relieved and gave her chin a small lick of thanks. Laura

smiled, scratching his furry head.

"You're welcome, little guy," she said as she put her gloves back on and began walking back to the path. She took her time, not wanting to jostle him too much, talking to him like he

actually understood what she was saying. "You don't have a collar on, buddy. Did you run away or did some mean person leave you out here?"

The thought of somebody dumping a poor, helpless animal in the middle of nowhere made

her blood boil and she knew Amy would feel the same way. She hoped they didn't mind if

she brought the dog into the house. There was something about him... she couldn't put her

finger

on it, but she felt drawn to the pooch, connected to him like they had something in common.

She snuggled him closer to her body, pleased to note that his shivers had eased somewhat.

"We'll get you back to the cabin, get you all warmed up, and make you some breakfast,

okay, little guy? How do you feel about rice? I'm sure Amy has some. Maybe some eggs?

You should take it easy at first; you're pretty skinny. You don't want to gorge yourself and

then get sick. A little at a time, okay?"

The dog breathed in deeply and sighed, very much like he was relieved. Laura dropped a

kiss onto his head and kept walking, feeling needed for the first time in ages.

THE STRAY

A

my was in the kitchen gathering the makings for a big country breakfast when Molly came

downstairs. The smell of bacon was mouthwatering and Molly followed her nose through the

living room, then stopped and did a double take at the pile of blankets on the couch.

Grinning mischievously at Jo, she backpedaled and plopped down onto the couch, delighted

at the grunt that issued from beneath her.

"Oh, man." Darby's voice was muffled. "I think a giant boulder just fel on me."

Molly slapped at her and got up. "Funny."

Darby peeked out from under the blankets, taking in Molly's attire of striped cotton

pajama pants and a deep green, long-sleeve Adidas T-shirt. Her bare feet were tipped by

toes polished a deep burgundy and the shirt brought out the green of her eyes. Darby

swallowed hard at the sight, internally shaking her head at herself.

"I forgot extra socks," Molly said to Amy as she located a mug and poured herself a cup of coffee. She tugged on Amy's auburn ponytail. "Can I borrow a pair?"

"Absolutely," Amy replied, cracking eggs into a large stainless steel bowl. "Jo-Jo, would you be a dear and get this lovely lady a pair of socks for her icy toes?"

"It would be my pleasure." Jo kissed the top of Molly's head as she passed by and

disappeared into the master bedroom.

"How'd you sleep?" Amy asked. "Were you warm enough?"

"Oh, God yes. That quilt is wonderful. Where'd you find it?"

"My grandmother made that one. Isn't it beautiful?" Amy smiled

wistfully. "I had the two for the twin beds in the other room made to match so they'd all be the same. I love the homey, outdoorsy feel it gives to the place."

"I've got to say," Darby said, her voice scratchy as she shuffled in with a fleece blanket wrapped around her shoulders. "That couch I slept on? Homey and outdoorsy. Very, very

nice."

Amy reached out and tousled Darby's sleep-mussed dark hair affectionately, then went

back to her eggs.

"What the hel time is it, anyway?" Darby asked. "It was barely light out when Laura went for a walk. What's the matter with you people? After forty you don't have to sleep any

more?"

"Hey," Molly scolded, playfully pushing at her. "Some of us have a ways to go before we hit that milestone. Besides, that's all your generation ever does. Sleep."

"You're a lazy bunch, that's for sure," Jo added, handing Molly a pair of white socks upon her return. "Sleep till noon. Live with Mom and Dad until you're thirty..."

"I have my own place, thank you very much." Darby felt slightly insulted at the assumptions.

"If you want to go back to sleep, you can take my bed," Molly offered.

Darby took several seconds to actually think about it before deciding it was better to

decline. "Thank you, Molly, but I'm fine being up at the crack of dawn." She stuck her tongue out at her aunt. "I do it all the time."

Jo snorted but made no further comment as she handed her niece a cup of coffee.

"I love you all, but get the hell out of my kitchen," Amy said. "You're crowding me."

"The artist needs her space," Jo said, herding them a few feet away to the dining room table.

The open design of the house allowed for Amy to participate in conversations while keeping

guests out of her immediate way. It was the only way Jo would have it; their home in the

city was designed the same way. If Amy was going to spend so much time in the kitchen, Jo

wanted to be able to see her and chat with her while she worked.

"Sophie still sleeping?" Jo directed her question to Molly.

"I think so. The door was closed when I got up." Turning to Darby,'

Molly asked, "Did you say Laura went out for a walk already?" When both Darby and Jo nodded, Molly raised her eyebrows in surprised admiration. "Wow. That's ambitious."

As if on cue, the front door opened and Laura stepped in, stomping the snow from her

boots. Her cheeks had a healthy pink flush to them and her clear blue eyes were glittering.

A small canine head peeked out from the top of the zipper of her ski jacket.

Molly squinted. "What the—?"

"I'm afraid I found a little something in the woods." Laura directed her gaze toward Jo. "I hope you don't mind, but the little guy was frozen stiff." She unzipped her jacket to reveal the rest of the dog.

He was brown, his fur wiry and in need of a cleaning. His legs were short and stubby and he

had a sweet and gentle face. His ears were mismatched, one pointed straight up and one

folded in half and flopping down, giving him a slightly comical appearance. Laura shed her

jacket and stepped out of her boots, holding the dog to her chest the whole time. Moving

toward the fireplace, she sat down on the wide brick hearth, letting the dog absorb the

warmth as the other women approached cautiously.

"Wel would you look at that," Jo said softly, holding a hand out to the animal. "Hi there, buddy boy." The dog sniffed the offered fingertips. "You found him?"

"Yeah, it was kind of weird. He was whimpering at the base of a tree about halfway along the path. I have no idea how he got there. When did it snow, do you know?"

"I got up around two to go to the bathroom and it was snowing pretty good then." Amy brought small containers with cream and sugar to the table and set them down, along with a

handful of spoons.

Laura shook her head, not believing the poor dog could have stayed in that one spot for

more than four hours, but having no other explanation. "Weird," she said under her breath.

Darby squatted down and put her face near the dog's. "Hey, furry butt. What were you

doing out there all alone?" The dog swiped his pink tongue over her nose. Darby smiled up at Laura. "No collar, huh?"

"Nothing on him or around him."

"Looks like you might have yourself a new pal," Jo grinned.

"Would it be okay if I kept him here until I figure out the next course of action?"

"I don't see why not," Jo said. "We can't very well have him out in the woods all alone.

Either somebody's looking for him or somebody dumped him."

"He's so sweet," Laura said, unable to believe somebody could just leave a helpless animal to fend for itself alone in the snowy woods. "Why would somebody do that?"

"People are assholes, that's why." Darby made the statement and there were nods all around.

"Amy? Do you think we can scramble him up some eggs or make him some rice or

something? He's awfully skinny."

"Consider it done." After scratching the top of the dog's head, Amy left them to take care of the task.

Laura saw Sophie standing behind the others, her approach unnoticed, looking as if she

hadn't slept more than two or three hours all night. She smiled at her temporary

roommate. "Morning, Sophie."

Sophie inclined her head in a nod of greeting.

"Want to pet him?"

"Sure." Sophie squatted in front of the animal, who was a mess and in need of a bath. "You stink, pal," she said, but the affection in her voice betrayed the indifference she was

trying for.

Laura smiled. "He does, doesn't he? I want to give him a bath, but I think I'd better make sure he's warmed up first. I'm afraid of shocking his system."

Sophie stood. "Is there coffee?" she asked nobody in particular, effectively ending any attempt at conversation. Jo pointed to the table and Sophie went to help herself. Laura

frowned slightly as she met Jo's eyes. Jo gave her a don't-worry-about-it smile of

reassurance.

Darby bent down to the dog's level once again. "Do you have any idea how lucky you are to have ended up in a house full of lesbians? You hit the mother lode, buddy. Nice work."

Forty-five minutes later, they were all seated at the dining room table enjoying a hearty

breakfast of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. The dog was on the floor at Laura's feet after

refusing to stay by the fire alone. He picked daintily from a paper plate of plain scrambled

eggs Amy had fixed for him and glanced up every so often as if checking to make sure

Laura hadn't disappeared into thin air. She reached down periodically to caress him.

"This is delicious, Amy," Sophie commented, working on her

second helping of eggs. "I don't know what you do to these damn things, but I've never had scrambled eggs this good."

"Secret ingredients," Darby said. "Aunt Jo doesn't even know what goes into them."

"True story," Jo agreed.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," Amy said with a shrug, then held up a hand forestalling Laura as she opened her mouth to speak. "One chef is not allowed to tell another's

secrets."

Laura smiled. "Fair enough. I'm shutting up."

"Thank you. And thank you, Sophie. I'm glad you like them."

"You know, I was going to try to guess what's in them," Sophie said with a grin. "But now that there's the whole possibility of murder, I think I'll just eat and enjoy."

"Smart move," Darby said.

"So," Jo began, setting down her fork. "I know this is vacation for most of us and I certainly don't intend to put you on a schedule, but I do want to let you know what some of

your options are while you spend the week in our fine establishment." She smiled at Amy's grin. "There are two pairs of cross-country skis in the garage, along with snowshoes and toboggans. We have a satellite dish, so watching television is a possibility, even out here in the boondocks. There is also a DVD player and a PlayStation. We've got some board games