Moonlighting in Vermont (22 page)

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I slid into my Toyota and patted the dash. I was feeling very affectionate toward my car today. I was feeling dang lucky to be alive. Between homicidal coworkers and wayward deer, I’d had quite a month. I sped down Route 107, but instead of taking Route 14 into town, I turned toward home.

I was sitting on my couch with my interview notes. Sunlight was streaming in the windows and warming me. I’d taken the dogs out for a run. Well, they ran, I trudged. We were wet and tired but happy to be in each other’s company. I’d pulled on an old pair of grey sweats and a baggy maroon sweater that looked like it was left over from the eighties. I had on my fuzzy, pink socks, and my hair was pulled up in a half-assed ponytail. I was working on my story.

Annie raised her head off the couch and focused on the kitchen. There was a knock, and the door opened. The dogs leapt to their feet and surged into the kitchen, baying. I could hear them leaping and jumping. Someone grunted.

“Are you going to help me out in here?” It was Jim.

I whistled, and the pack ran back into the living room and looked at me with anticipation.
“Lie down. You’re being obnoxious. I don’t know why they’re jumping all over you. Normally, they let you waltz right in without so much as a growl.”
Jim walked in. The mood in the room shifted. The dogs all lifted their heads and gazed at him. This confused me. Jim was looking extra hunky. Nice-fitting jeans, formfitting tee-shirt, and a hip length jacket. Surely the dogs couldn’t tell he was showing off his bod?
“Come on in. Sorry I didn’t get up. I’m worn out.”
“I wanted to talk to you in the hospital, but you were never alone.”
“Meg’s very protective. Have a seat.”
Jim sat, and I could have sworn I saw something move. Surely he wasn’t that happy to see me. “Are you staring at my crotch? That’s kind of forward, even for you.”
I tore my gaze away and looked into his face. He was laughing at me. “You have something very strange going on in your pocket. You got a hamster in there?”
“A hamster? No. A Mexican rat, yes.” He reached into his pocket and brought out a fuzzy, pale yellow ball of fur hardly any bigger than his fist.
“What is that? It’s not really a rat is it?” I drew my feet up under myself.
“No. It’s not a rat. He’s a Chihuahua.”
“Oh, my God. He’s so cute. Can I see him?” I uncurled my feet and reached out.
Jim placed him in my hands. He was warm and wiggly. He licked my hand, and I brought up level with my face.
“You are something else,” I told the puppy. I rubbed his little ears, and he stretched his neck and gave me a puppy kiss on the nose. “I think I’d better keep you. That nasty old man over there will do nothing but teach you bad habits.” I snuggled him into the crook of my neck.
“I’m glad you like him.” I went to give the puppy back to Jim, but he shook his head. “No, he’s for you.”
“For me? You bought this little guy for me?”
“I figured he could go to work with you and keep you company. In an emergency, he could bite someone on the finger, and you could get away. You might not always have a pony on hand to squish evil henchmen with.”
“You heard about that, too.” I cuddled the little dog in my lap.
“You can’t keep secrets in a small town.”
The puppy yawned, sticking out his tongue. It curled at the tip. His little brown eyes looked ten sizes too big for his face. He looked up at me and wagged his tail. Oh, my God. “What am I going to do with you? What did Jim call you, a Mexican rat? You’re cuter than a Mexican rat. Are you wagging that tail at me?”
It wagged faster. His whole body squirmed with pleasure. “What’s rat in Spanish? Would that be a good name for you?” I thought of all the ludicrous names I could use. Tiny, Duke, Tank, Pee Wee. I could call him Pee Wee Herman. Pip Squeak. Hamster. An oversized hamster. If I put him on the floor, Ranger would swallow him whole. Even Annabelle could swat him around.
I held him against my chest. He curled in my hands, tucking his feet under his oversized head. I lifted him to my face and sniffed puppy smell. Clean dog, unfouled by muddy ponds or cow manure. A dog that hadn’t yet rolled in anything disgusting. No dead chicken. No rotting compost. Fresh, unadulterated puppy.
The Mexican rat lifted his head and washed my face with his tongue. His tail was vibrating like a hummingbird. This dog would never survive in a house full of oversized chowderheads that could swallow him whole. I handed him back.
Jim looked confused. “Don’t you like him?”
“He’s very sweet, but I can’t keep him.”
“Why not? You love dogs.”
“I can’t accept this kind of gift from you.”
“There aren’t any strings attached, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He looked affronted.
“I think it would be sending the wrong message.” How hard was he going to make this for me? Sometimes men could be so clueless.
“What message would that be?”
I took a deep breath. Then I looked him in the eye and said what I had thought he was smart enough to figure out on his own. “That I have forgiven you. That maybe we could be friends. That there’s the possibility that we could get back together.”
“Taking a dog would say all that? A mighty heavy weight for a dog.”
“Jim.” I closed my eyes and puffed out some air. I really didn’t want to fight right now. I’d had enough drama for a lifetime.
“Bree, I’m not giving up. I made a mistake. That’s all. A mistake. I don’t believe that I can’t make it up to you. There has to be something, some gesture, something I can do that will make you understands.”
“This isn’t about understanding. It’s about feeling. Do you have any idea how I felt when I saw you with Lucy Howe?”
“Not any worse than I felt when I saw you at the video store with Beau Maverick.” His voice was getting louder.
“I didn’t know you were at the video store.”
“That’s because you were too busy groping each other.”
“I’m getting a headache. Can we please stop this now?” Ranger woofed at the door, and the little dog in Jim’s lap lifted his head. The kitchen door banged open. “Just what I need, somebody else walking in without knocking.” I was starting to get up when Beau appeared. He nodded to Jim and came to stand near where I was sitting.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in California?” I asked him.
“I am. I’m ahead of schedule, and the other team needs to catch up. So I came home for a few days.” He sat on the arm of a chair across from me.
“Tom told you, didn’t he?”
“That you were attacked by a maniac with a pair of scissors? Yep. He told me.”
“It’s been kind of crazy around here.”
The puppy squeaked and jumped out of Jim’s arms and off the chair. He ran to Beau and jumped up and did a fourlegged jumping dance until Beau leaned over and scooped him up.
“Who’s this? Don’t tell me you have another dog. Aren’t you afraid Ranger will eat him?”
“I’m not keeping him. Jim just brought him for a visit.”
Beau looked at Jim. “I didn’t know you were a puppy kind of guy. What’s he going to do while you’re at work all day?”
“I got him for Bree.” Jim set his jaw. “But she doesn’t want him, so I’ll return him.”
“Bree doesn’t like this little fellow?” Beau turned to me. “You don’t want this baby? I’m surprised.”
“It’s complicated.” I widened my eyes and tilted my chin ever so slightly at Jim. I was trying to tell Beau to shut up. This was embarrassing me. “Besides, he wouldn’t be safe here with the big dogs.”
“You could just take him with you. He’s little.” Beau wasn’t taking instruction.
“That’s not the point. Just shut up, Beau.”
“Well what is the point?” The furball had rolled over, and Beau was rubbing his tummy.
“I’ve had enough.” Jim got up. “Give me the dog. I’m going.” He took the puppy and turned to me. “I’m not giving up on you, Bree, but I’m not going to try and talk to you while he’s here.” He jerked his head in Beau’s direction. “I’ll see you later.”
“He brought you a puppy as a peace offering.” Beau was grinning.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I had the sinking feeling I was going to be dealing with this rivalry for a while.
“Wish I’d thought to bring you a puppy. I only brought See’s Candy.”
“I don’t need another dog. What’s See’s Candy?”
“These really great West Coast chocolates. But I left them at my house, so you’ll have to come visit me to get them.”
“You brought me chocolates, and then you left them at your house? That’s tacky.”
“I was so distracted by your injuries that they completely slipped my mind. I hope Tom told me the whole story, because if I find out anything else scary happened to you while I was gone, I’m going to have a heart attack. I’ve half a mind to load you up and take you with me so I can keep an eye on you.” He ran his hands through his hair until it was standing up.
I smiled at him. “You like me.”
He came and sat beside me on the couch.
“Almost as much as I like that little dog. You should have kept him.”
“If you like that little dog so much, you should keep him.”
“I will, if it make you happy. But he’ll have to stay with you whenever I’m away.”
“Ranger would eat him.” I couldn’t believe we were playing this game. “I’m tired, Beau. Could we talk about something else?”
“I think we should talk about you coming to California with me until my job’s finished.” He slipped his arm around my shoulders and drew me to him. “Because I’m finding it impossible to work and worry about you at the same time.”
“Everything’s back to normal. There’s nothing to worry about anymore.”
“The queen of chaos is telling me there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Life got out of hand for a while, but it’s all okay now.”
“The minute I go back, Jim will be sniffing around here with another present. A horse, next time. Could you say no to some poor, abandoned horse? No. I can’t risk it.”
“I’d have to find someone to come and stay with the dogs.” California. Warm California with beaches and dry ground. No mud patches or manure to roll around in.
“We could take the dogs with us.”
“You’d let me bring my dogs to California?”
“If that’s what I need to do, you bet.”
“I’ll think about it.” I snuggled into his shoulder. “I’m too tired to make a decision right now.”
“Well, then, I’d better take you upstairs to bed.”

Meet Kate George
Born in Northern California, Kate George now lives in rural Vermont. She shares an old farmhouse with a husband, four kids, three dogs and three cats. She started writing because of a dare, and now she makes the rascal who dared her read through her rough drafts. Ms. George earned a Bachelor of Arts degree from the University of California, Davis, and writes about things with which she has some experience. These include working as a typesetter, paste-up tech, and motorcycle safety instructor, as well as in the housekeeping department of a swank hotel - among many, many other unusual occupations.