Читать книгу Tail of Two Hearts - Charlotte Carter - Страница 11

Chapter Three

The following morning, Vivian tried on a few different outfits before settling on a shirt, with three-quarter-length sleeves, patterned in colorful fall leaves and her rust-colored skirt. She paired that with comfortable shoes for walking around the shelter, then tossed a light jacket over her arm and headed out the door.

“You be good, Essie,” she called to her cat. “And leave Roger alone.”

Trying to temper her eagerness as she drove into town, she still couldn’t help but look forward to spending time with Chase. And, of course, visiting the shelter.

She parked on the street. By the time she reached Fluff & Stuff, Chase had already opened the door. Ready to go, he wore chinos and a tan windbreaker snug at his waist, which made his legs look extra long.

Boyo peered up at her from behind Chase’s legs, his tail wagging.

“Don’t you look like a bright autumn day,” Chase said, ushering her inside with one of his patented grins. “Makes me think of raking leaves as a boy and jumping into the pile and then having to rake them up all over again.”

“We used to do that, too. It would take us all day to finish the job. Drove our mother crazy. And then the next morning there’d be more leaves on the ground, and we’d have to do it all over again.”

“My car’s in back.” Placing his hand at the small of her back, he guided her to the rear of the store. The heat of his palm seeped through her light jacket. “Sounds like you come from a big family,” he said.

Telling Boyo to stay, Chase let Vivian out the back door and then locked it behind them.

“Mom had six kids. Three girls and three boys. We were kind of a rowdy bunch at times.”

“I can imagine. Six children sounds like quite a crowd.” His voice held a note of dismay. “I was an only child, which was about all my mother could handle.”

“Don’t tell me you misbehaved as a boy?” she asked in a teasing voice.

“Not all that much. But all kids find a way to get into trouble once in a while.”

“And that was times six for my mom.” Her mother had been awesome, the most patient person Vivian knew. At least most days that was true.

When she climbed into his SUV, she caught the faint scent of puppy chow and spotted a few doggie hairs on the seat.

He went around to the driver’s side and climbed behind the wheel. He seemed far more subdued than when he’d greeted her, and she couldn’t imagine why. Everybody’s family was different. Six children had always seemed ideal to Vivian. In fact, she’d like to have that many herself, if she could find a way.

“Is your mother still living in Wichita?” she asked quietly.

“No. She died a couple of years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged as though it didn’t matter to him, but Vivian suspected he cared more about the loss of his mother than he wanted to admit. With just the two of them, they had to have been close. From Vivian’s perspective, she couldn’t imagine being an only child—she would have been too lonely way out on the farm. Though she admitted her younger siblings were often pests as they grew up, and she’d been expected to watch out for them when her mother was otherwise occupied.

Since their conversation had dampened Chase’s mood, she decided to change the subject.

“So what kind of dogs do you think I ought to pick out for Doggie Daze?”

“We’ll have to see who’s available, but they should be well behaved.”

“And housebroken,” Vivian added. “I think Allison would appreciate that the most.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed. “I imagine so.” He turned onto Bronson Street for the short drive to the shelter, which was less than a mile north of town.

Once past the center of town, houses on one-or two-acre lots replaced commercial buildings. Some families had a horse or two. Others had chicken coops and a kitchen garden, or a couple of cows grazing behind sturdy fences.

“Look at those sunflowers growing alongside the road,” she said. “Aren’t they beautiful?” Apparently seeds had been blown or tossed onto the right-of-way between the road and the wheat field beyond. Several hundred feet of the shoulder was ablaze with bright orange sunflowers, the Kansas state flower. Their heads on four-foot-tall stalks were all aligned, aimed directly at the sun as though they were sending cheery wishes into outer space.

“Looks like somebody decided to beautify the roadside around here.”

In the distance, the silver tower of a grain elevator rose above the flat landscape, a crucial part of life for wheat farmers like Vivian’s father.

“You might want to think about a bigger dog, like a golden retriever,” Chase said, returning to the topic of dogs for Doggie Daze. “They’re usually good with kids. And match him with something smaller, maybe a border collie mix.”

“We could use a border collie to round up people off the streets to come to Doggie Daze.”

He shot her an amused look. “That’s one way to gain an audience. Or you could ask Police Chief Sheridan to arrest jaywalkers and hold them at the bookshop during the event.”

“Or Mayor Langston could issue an edict that every resident of Bygones had to attend Doggie Daze plus adopt a dog at Fluff & Stuff.”

They bantered back and forth, each of them coming up with more ridiculous ideas to get people to attend the event. When they pulled up in front of Happy Havens, they were both laughing so hard they could barely get out of the car.

Vivian wiped the tears from her eyes and drew a deep breath. “It’s just as well we’re here. I was running out of ideas.”

Chase patted her hand. “I’m sure you’d be able to come up with more ideas if you had to. You’re one smart lady.”

She grinned at him even as the touch of his hand shot a current of warmth up her arm. “Likewise, Mr. Rollins. You’re pretty smart yourself.”

The shelter offices were in an old two-story farmhouse that had been revamped and repainted a bright yellow with white trim. The adjacent red barn held most of the animals, with cats kept well separated inside the main house. Except for a small parking lot, open land and a wire fence surrounded the property. Originally funded by the Bronson family, the shelter had since been repaired and restored mostly by volunteers. Now it was entirely operated by many of those same devoted people.

In front of the house, a large sign carved in a plank of redwood read Happy Havens Animal Shelter.

Chase held open the gate, and they walked up the three steps to the porch. A note on the door invited guests to come in.

Annabelle Goodrich, wearing a navy blue windbreaker over her official shelter volunteer T-shirt, was sitting at a desk behind the counter.

“Hey, Chase, good to see you.” She looked quizzically at Vivian over the top of her half-glasses. “You, too, Viv. What brings you here?”

“Viv and Allison at the bookstore are planning an event called Doggie Daze this Saturday,” Chase said. “The idea is to sell books about dogs and how to train them, and hopefully get people interested in adopting dogs.”

“Chase is helping us,” Vivian added. “He suggested we might be able to borrow a couple of dogs from you for show-and-tell.”

“And I’ll need a couple for Saturday’s adoption day, too,” Chase added.

Lean and athletic for a woman in her fifties, Annabelle popped to her feet. “Sounds terrific. We need all the publicity we can get so our animal buddies can find new homes. Follow me.” She strode toward the back of the house and on to the barn at a fast clip.

Vivian hurried to catch up with her. As she passed what must have once been the dining room, she caught a quick glimpse of a dozen or more cages containing cats. For an instant, she wanted to step inside to pick out a homeless cat and give her a new home. But she was pretty sure Essie wouldn’t appreciate Vivian’s generosity of spirit. Essie’s nose was already out of sorts with the addition of Roger in their household.

In the barn they were greeted with a cacophony of barks and yips, and dogs jumping against their enclosure gates. Vivian could almost hear them shouting Pick me! Pick me! Poor fellows sure didn’t like being locked up.

“Settle down, guys,” Annabelle yelled over the racket. “Be nice. You need to impress these people with how well you behave.” She walked down the aisle of kennels, reaching in to pet this dog and that, calling them by name and cooing over them.

Vivian caught Chase’s eye. “They’re her babies, aren’t they?” she said quietly.

“I’d say so. Before she’ll let any of them go to a new home, she checks out the family and makes it clear that if she hears about any abuse, she’ll have the chief of police at their door in minutes.”

“Sort of like the way they check out families when someone applies to adopt a baby,” Vivian mused aloud. She had certainly filled out a lot of forms and been interviewed at length.

He shot her a troubled look. “I suppose it’s the same.”

Wondering why Chase would react negatively to the mention of adoption, Vivian frowned then shrugged off her concern.

Annabelle finished her tour of the kenneled dogs and returned to them. “So what kind of dogs do you want for your event?”

“Chase suggested something like a golden retriever because they’re good with children,” Vivian said.

Closing her eyes, Annabelle nodded. “I think I’ve got just the dog for you. Lady is the sweetest thing.” She began walking down the aisle again. “Good family pet. Loves children. She’s actually a mix of retriever and shepherd so she has a little longer nose than a pure retriever, but she’s got that lovely golden fur and disposition.”

She stopped at a kennel and opened the gate. “Hey, Lady. I’ve got someone you need to meet.” She gestured for Vivian to step inside.

Vivian walked into the kennel. Immediately, Lady sat and looked up at her with intelligent brown eyes and cocked her head to the side as if waiting for Vivian to explain her presence. Vivian’s heart melted.

“Aren’t you the prettiest girl?” Unable to resist, she let Lady sniff her hand. Kneeling Vivian held the dog’s head and gave her a good scratch behind her ears. “You are a sweetheart. You really are.”

Behind her, Chase said, “I told you to be careful or you’d fall in love.”

She looked up at him over her shoulder. A shimmer of awareness slid through her as she looked into his soft brown eyes filled with such a gentle spirit.

“You were...right.” Her voice quavered. “I need to be very careful.” And go slowly. He was talking about falling for a dog. Not him.

He helped her to her feet. “What do you think?”

Think? She didn’t dare think. Not about Chase in that way. Not with his hand warming her arm.

“About the dog,” he clarified.

“Oh, yes. Lady will be perfect for Doggie Daze.” She forced a smile that felt a little crooked and turned to Annabelle. “Can we match Lady with a smaller dog she’ll get along with?”

“We’ve got oodles of those. Let’s go see Tikey. She’s a sweetie.” She led them to another kennel that held two small dogs. “Tikey is a Welsh corgi. Her buddy there, Arnie, is a poodle mix.”

Vivian chuckled at the stumpy little dog. “It looks like Tikey didn’t get her fair share of legs. They look too short for her.”

“I haven’t heard her complain. As Abe Lincoln once said, his legs were just the right length to reach the ground.” Annabelle opened the door to let Vivian inside.

“Ol’ Abe was a pretty sharp cookie,” Chase commented.

It didn’t take Vivian long to decide that Lady and Tikey would be perfect for show-and-tell at Doggie Daze.

Chase decided he would take Nathan for his adoption day promotion and then selected a German shepherd named Buster.

“German shepherds are well behaved and make great guard dogs,” he commented. “A lot of farmers want a dog like Buster to keep an eye on their stock.”

“We had a German shepherd when I was growing up.” Vivian smiled at the memory. “Somewhere in the family scrapbook, there is a picture my mom took of me when I was about eighteen months old trying to ride on his back.”

“Now that would be worth seeing.” His dark eyes danced with mischief, and Vivian felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment.

If Chase ever met her family, she’d have to warn her mother of the dire consequences if she showed that scrapbook to him.

Unaware of Vivian’s chagrin, Chase arranged with Annabelle to pick up all four dogs early Saturday morning. She promised to have them bathed and ready to go by eight o’clock.

Annabelle walked with them to the barn’s entrance. “Mayor Langston dropped by a day or two ago. We got to talking about the shelter and how there simply aren’t enough funds to keep this place going for long.”

“Oh, I’m sorry hear that,” Vivian said. “Is there anything anyone can do to help?”

Wrinkles furrowed Annabelle’s forehead as she fussed with the zipper on her jacket. “The mayor and I were trying to come up with some sort of a fund-raiser that would keep us going. Nothing came to mind right offhand. But if you think of something...” She let the words drift off on the weight of her concern.

“We’ll give it some thought,” Chase promised, ushering Vivian out the door.

Walking slowly, Vivian considered the shelter’s financial problem. It would be such a shame to have to close it down. There had to be something....

Back in the SUV, Chase turned to her. “It’s almost noon. How about I drive us to Highway 135? We can have lunch at the Red Rooster diner.”

“That sounds good, but don’t you have to open up your shop? Or did you have your friend open for you?”

“Midweek isn’t a problem. I left a sign on my door that I’d be back by two o’clock. I don’t get much business in the mornings, especially during the middle of the week, so I’m not losing any sales to speak of.”

“Then it’s fine with me. Allison told me to take as much time as I needed at the shelter.” Although she hadn’t said anything about having lunch with Chase.

Buckling her seat belt, Vivian felt a tickle of pleasure that she’d be spending more time with him.

He started the car and shifted into Reverse to back out of the parking place. “Someday soon, if and when my business picks up a bit, I’m going to have to hire someone part-time so I can be away from the store when I need to leave. The Save Our Streets committee is putting together a list of local folks who are looking for work. They want us to hire from that list if we can. I’m thinking that as Christmas gets closer, I’ll take a look. I’m told there are some hard workers on the list.”

“Yes, you should have someone to help, and it would be wonderful if you could hire someone local. With me helping at the bookshop, Allison has some flexibility she wouldn’t have otherwise.”

There weren’t many cars on the two-lane country road that led to the highway. Once Chase had to go around a slow-moving tractor, the farmer probably planning to disk his fields for the winter so they’d be ready for planting come spring. Vivian’s father, who grew wheat on his acreage near Duncan Springs, had already prepared the ground for winter.

“So why did you decide to be a librarian?” Chase asked as they were driving along.

“I love books,” she replied easily. “I grew up with my nose in a book since as early as I can remember. My older sister Lisa was very outgoing, but I’d hide in my room or in the loft of the barn and read. Guess I was just shy.”

He glanced in her direction. “You don’t seem very shy now. In fact, you’ve got a great personality.”

“Thanks.” Pleased that Chase saw her in such a positive light, she gave him an appreciative smile. “When I went off to college, I decided I had to become more extroverted. So I intentionally joined a bunch of clubs, volunteered for various activities. I didn’t want to be the stereotypical meek, bookish librarian.”

“I’d say you achieved your goal. You’re definitely not a stereotype at all. You’re one of a kind.”

“Careful, Chase. You’re going to have me blushing with all your compliments.” And falling for him harder and faster than she should.

“Not to worry. I like it when your cheeks turn pink. The color is good with your hair.”

She rolled her eyes. Blushing was the bane of every redhead she knew. She so hoped he wasn’t giving her a line just to make points with her. “I may have learned to be more outgoing, but I’m still a bookworm at heart.”

They arrived at the diner, which had a gigantic red rooster perched on top of the sloping roof. Several cars and trucks were parked in the lot, and Chase had to drive around to the back to find an open slot.

“Busy place,” she commented.

“As nearly as I can tell, it’s the only decent diner between Newton and Highway 40.”

“True. I’m afraid this part of Kansas isn’t exactly the gourmet capital of the state.”

They got out of the car and strolled around to the entrance. Inside the smell of sizzling meat on the grill was accompanied by a pleasant hum of conversation from the patrons who filled the red vinyl booths. Waitresses hurried back and forth carrying trays of burgers and fries, cold sandwiches and salads, plus glasses of soda and iced tea.

The hostess showed them to a booth toward the back of the restaurant.

Vivian opened the menu the hostess had placed in front of her. “So are you into gourmet food?” she asked Chase. “Or are you more a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy?”

“I’m a pretty basic guy. No frills. You get what you see.”

What Vivian saw in Chase was looking better and better. “I don’t mind going out to a fancy dinner now and then, but my mom taught me to cook. Chicken and biscuits is about as wild as we get in my family. But Mom’s biscuits are pretty good.”

He studied her from across the table. “I’m a serious connoisseur of biscuits. I like ’em real fluffy.”

“Well, good. In that case I’ll have to invite you to dinner at my folks’ house sometime so you can see if Mom’s biscuits live up to your high standards.”

He chuckled. “It’s a deal!”

When the waitress returned, Chase ordered a cheeseburger with coleslaw instead of fries. Vivian chose a chicken salad with a raspberry vinaigrette dressing on the side. She had iced tea; he ordered a soda.

As they chatted over lunch, Vivian learned Chase had grown up in Wichita, living in a half dozen different houses or apartments. And that he’d started work at a warehouse when he was seventeen years old.

“You didn’t want to go to college?” she asked.

“My grades weren’t good enough, and I had to earn some money to help out my mother.”

Vivian sensed he was plenty smart enough to get good grades and go to college, but maybe he hadn’t been tuned in to academics. Some of her classmates had been like that: smart but not interested in studying. Then again, given his family’s situation, maybe he hadn’t had any other choice.

She sipped her sweet tea. “What about your interests outside of animals? Any hobbies?”

Thinking, he carried a forkful of coleslaw to his mouth and chewed for a minute. “When I was younger, I used to enjoy target practice with some buddies. They sometimes went hunting, but I couldn’t see killing a deer or even a raccoon.”

“Neither can I.” Her father had a gun, which he used to run off coyotes who were trying to get into the chicken coup. But Vivian had never been interested in shooting anything, not even a target.

“Like most guys, I’ve tinkered a little with cars,” Chase said. “How about you? What do you do in your spare time?”

“You mean besides reading?” She laughed. “I can do some crocheting and knitting, but I’m not all that good. My mother’s terrific, though. I’m pretty good at graphic arts on the computer. And I like decorating my little house.”

“On the computer, it’s all I can do to keep track of income, expenses and inventory. I bought a special program for that. Figured I’d need it come tax season.”

“Smart man.” She smiled at him across the table and felt herself falling further for this man.

When they’d finished eating, Vivian sat back. “That was a good salad. I’ll have to come here more often.”

“Good burger, too.” Using his napkin, Chase wiped his mouth. “We’ll have to do this again.”

Their waitress arrived. She was a woman in her forties with unnatural platinum hair pulled back into a ponytail. “Anything else for you folks? We’ve got some homemade apple pie. It’s really good à la mode.”

Vivian shook her head. “Not for me, thanks.”

“None for me, either.” The waitress put the check on the table, and Chase reached for his wallet.

“Why don’t we do this Dutch treat?” Vivian suggested.

“A gentleman never lets a lady pick up the check.” He put a twenty on the table. “I invited you, remember.”

“Well, I thank you very much.”

He winked. “You’re welcome.”

“Guess we’d better get back to work, huh?” Although Vivian would rather linger here with Chase, sipping another glass of iced tea, she really should go to the bookstore to give Allison a break.

Chase took a different road back to Bygones, although the landscape of small farms was much the same. They hadn’t gone far when he had to slow for a couple of brown-and-white milk cows that had wandered out onto the road.

“Looks like somebody left their gate open,” Vivian said.

“No, not their gate.” He pulled to the side of the road. “A whole big section of fencing is down.”

“How did that happen?” Two posts holding the wire fencing around a small pasture had been pulled to the ground. The cows had simply wandered out to eat the greener grass outside their pen.

Turning off the ignition, Chase said, “I’m going to try to herd the cows back where they belong. The farmer must not have missed them yet. Hang on.” He hopped out of the SUV and strolled slowly toward the cows.

Vivian climbed out, too. There was a small farmhouse and a barn on the property, both of which looked in need of a new roof and fresh paint. That wasn’t unusual in this part of Kansas. Small landholders had trouble making a profit.

“Come on, Bessie,” Chase said. “You and your sister need to go back where you came from.” Making clucking noises, he waved them toward the broken fence.

The cows started to move in the right direction.

Suddenly an old man half bent over at the waist came running out of the house. “Hey there, git away from my cows, or I’ll blow you away.” The man lifted a double-barrel shotgun to his shoulder.

Vivian gasped.

Chase threw his hands up. “Easy, mister. You’ve got a break in your fence. I was just trying to—”

The shotgun blasted into the air. “I tol’ you to git. Now git!” He cracked open the shotgun, reloaded and snapped it closed.

The cows lumbered out onto the road again.

Her heart in her throat, Vivian jumped back in the SUV, rolling down her window.

Chase, instead of getting into the truck and driving away, like any rational person would do, walked toward the farmer, his hands held out to his sides in a sign of peace.

“Be careful,” she whispered, appalled that he’d approach a man with a gun.

“I’d like to help you,” Chase told the farmer. “I live over in Bygones. I own the pet store. I know what it’s like to work hard and not have much to show for it.”

Slowly, the farmer lowered his shotgun an inch or two. “Kids are always messing with my cows. When hunting season started, one of ’em painted a red target on Marshmallow.”

“I’m sorry. I really am. Kids can do stupid things.”

Her heart in her throat, Vivian watched as Chase kept moving closer to the farmer. If the farmer lifted that shotgun again and pulled the trigger, Chase could be dead in minutes.

Please, God. Don’t let anything bad happen to him. She pulled out her cell phone, ready to call for help.

“How about I try to bring Marshmallow back where she belongs? Then you and I can brace that fence back up. What do you say, Mr....?”

“Mahnken. Amos Mahnken.”

“Good to meet you, Amos.” He extended his hand. “Chase Rollins.”

Switching the shotgun to his left hand, Amos took Chase’s hand. “You’ll need a switch. Marshmallow needs a little flick now and again to get her moving. Brownie usually follows along all right.”

Vivian exhaled the breath she’d been holding. Chase was either crazy or extremely brave. Maybe both, she thought, hysteria threatening.

“I’ll get her.” Reaching for a dry weed stalk, Chase broke it off. “You go find us some wood and a hammer and nails. This shouldn’t take long.”

Shaking, Vivian waited in the truck while Chase rounded up the cows, then helped Amos restore the fence to some order.

Finally, Chase told Amos goodbye. They shook hands like old friends, and Chase returned to the SUV.

“Sorry for the delay,” he said, climbing behind the wheel.

“Sorry?” She nearly choked. “You could’ve been killed!”

“Naw. Old Amos didn’t want to kill anybody. Just wanted to scare me off.”

“Well, he certainly scared me. Right out of ten years of my life.”

Looking at her, he cocked his head. A little smile played around his lips. “Thanks for worrying about me.”

He tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, then he shifted the SUV into gear and pulled back onto the road.

Her cheek tingled with the residual warmth of his fingertip. Her heart beating hard, all Vivian could do was gape at the man. Maybe she was the one who was crazy.

Because she was thinking about crazy, exciting possibilities and dreams that could come true.