Читать книгу Bride in Training - Gail Martin Gaymer - Страница 9

Martin leaned over his dining room table, staring with blank eyes at the paperwork he had brought home. He usually never lugged work home. He stayed in his office to provide a good example to his employees. They needed to understand what devotion to a job meant. But he couldn’t concentrate there. All day his mind flew back and forth to Nessie at home alone, fearing what she might do to his house. He had given up and come home at noon.

If Emily ran her own dog-walking business, she should have been able to squeeze Nessie in sometime during the day. She had encouraged him to adopt the dog but didn’t want to help out otherwise.

Her face filled his mind, that impish look that was more a mask. At least when he smiled or frowned, that’s how he felt and everyone knew it. He’d heard his sister-in-law say dogs were honest. If they liked a person they wagged their tails. If not, they let him know with a bark or a nip. Emily had an innocent, vulnerable look, but underneath, she had a sink-in-the-teeth bite. He should have guessed from that determined handshake.

Martin glanced into the living room and spotted Nessie curled beside the low front windows where the sun spread along the carpet. Emily had been right about one thing. Inside the house, Nessie seemed to behave.

He pictured Emily’s slender hands, the way she kept her arms close to her sides with a slight swing, almost protective. He leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to relax and hoping to get her off his mind. The documents he’d brought home needed action on Monday. Since tomorrow was Saturday, he had the weekend to delve into them and be home with the dog. Hopefully Monday would start a better week.

Nessie gave a yip, and Martin opened his eyes. Her tail wagging and her ears perked in attention, she rose and headed toward him. He looked over his shoulder, hearing the sound.

When Nick strode into the room, Nessie skittered to him and sniffed his shoes. “I heard you had a new friend.”

“Rumors travel fast.” Martin rose to greet him.

“No rumor. This looks like a real live dog to me.” He swooped the ball of fur into his arms while Nessie swiped his hand with kisses. “You cute little thing.” He glanced at the terrier’s belly. “Female, I see. You seem to have a dangerous bent toward women.”

“It’s a dog, Nick.”

His brother chuckled. “You’re asking for trouble when you bring a female into the house. You don’t get along with them, remember?” He set Nessie on the floor.

Emily’s face flashed through his mind, then Steph’s. “You can’t forget anything, can you?”

Nick strode closer and gave his shoulder a hug. “Just pulling your chain, bro.”

“Fine, but enough’s enough.” He turned away and strode to his recliner with Nessie following him with a longing look as if she wanted someone to play with her. One day he wanted to know about the dog’s last owner. As he sank into the chair, he motioned toward the sofa. “How’s Steph?”

“Better today. She did fine at work.” He strode to the French-pane picture window and looked outside. Nessie pattered beside him and curled up into a ball in a sunny spot.

Martin’s brow furrowed. “I thought her doctor told her to take it easy.”

“She has been.” Nick faced him. “Steph hired a young woman to come in and help with the dogs so she can do desk work and stay near the phone.”

He acquiesced, hoping they were making the right decision. Nick oozed a positive attitude. Martin wished he could follow his brother’s example. “Tell me about this woman that works at Time for Paws?”

“I don’t know her. Steph just hired her a few—”

“Not the new one. I meant Emily.”

Nick did a double take. “Emily? I don’t know much about her.” He gave Martin a scrutinizing look. “Why?”

Martin managed to act indifferent. “No reason. She has quite an attitude.”

Nick sputtered into a guffaw. “Attitude? You’re the king of attitude.”

Struggling with a rebuttal, Martin covered his lack of words with a groan. “I’m working on it.”

His brother stopped chuckling. “You are. I’ll be the first to admit that.” He crossed the room and plopped onto the sofa. “What happened yesterday?”

“Nessie gnawed the handle of my attaché case. This morning I found my Italian belt covered with teeth marks.”

Nick shrugged. “I can’t help you with that. Anyway, I meant what happened between you and Emily?”

The past evening fell into Martin’s mind, and he relayed her abrupt refusal to add him to her waiting list of customers. “I think she’s heard too many rumors from Steph, and—”

Nick leaned forward. “Wait a minute. Steph doesn’t spread rumors. If she said something it was true. You were horrible to her when you first met, and you know that, but you’ve made great strides, and I’m sure Steph has also mentioned that.” He flung his hands in the air. “I don’t know why they’re talking about you now, anyway, but don’t blame Steph.”

Too late to undo his blunder. “I wasn’t blaming Steph. I deserved every remark she might have made about me, but you know I’m working on my attitude. I monitored my comments with Emily.” He revisited his evening with her. “Well, most of them.”

Nick crossed his ankle over his knee and pulled up the sock. “You’re upset because she wouldn’t add you to her waiting list for what?”

“For her dog-walker services. You know that I work late sometimes, and—”

“And you don’t have me to run your errands for you anymore.”

Martin drew back at Nick’s harsh comment. His stomach tightened. “Okay, I deserve that. But I haven’t asked in a long time. You have your hands full with a new marriage and Steph’s high-risk pregnancy. I worry about her, too.”

“I know you do, and I appreciate it. That’s the new side of you I really respect. You’re thinking of others more than ever. Although I will admit, you were always good with Mom. Much better than I ever was.”

“You’re too tender-hearted.”

Nick shook his head. “I suppose.” He leaned back again, looking more at ease. “How are you getting along with Nessie?”

The terrier heard her name and made her way back to Nick. When she realized he wasn’t going to pay attention to her again, she curled up at his feet and used his shoe as a pillow.

“She’s a nice dog, but…” That but again. Martin wished he could remove the word from his vocabulary. “That’s another thing about Emily. She suggested dog training, then pushed me off on Molly. I hate the idea of dog training, but if I decided to try it, I can’t go to Molly. Her husband and I do business together. What happens if I do something that riles Molly? There goes that relationship.”

Nick looked thoughtful. “And Steph isn’t training now.”

“Right.” He didn’t want to work with Steph, either. They had finally become friends. One wrong move could destroy that.

“Emily’s been employed there less than a year. Maybe she doesn’t train dogs.”

“She must know something to be a dog-walker and sitter. She told me herself she has a lot of clients. I don’t need classes. Just a few tips.”

Nick looked toward the ceiling as if he’d find the answer there. He finally turned to Martin. “I can ask Steph if she’d talk with Molly. I don’t know if it will do any good if Emily refuses, but Molly loves dogs, and I’m sure she wants you to do a good job with Nessie.”

“That’s all I want. I suppose I could look in the yellow pages for a trainer, but—”

“Hang on before you do that.” He reached down and petted Nessie’s head. “The poor dog has been shifted from one person to another. Time For Paws is familiar to her.” He eyed Martin. “Should I talk with Molly?”

“Yes. Thanks. It’s not really training for the dog. It’s for me.”

“You?” A silly grin stole to Nick’s face and he chuckled. “Even better. Let me see what I can do.”

Martin opened his mouth, then closed it. Let Nick laugh. One day the laugh would be on him. Nick had provided renewed motivation for Martin to be on his best behavior.

His pulse gave a kick. Talk about motivation, he sensed an ulterior motive going on in his brain, but he didn’t want to face it. The least likely person in the world to interest him would be someone like Emily. Nothing in common but a dog. He pictured Emily’s amazing eyes, her protective cover and her vulnerability. Then again, maybe they weren’t so different.

Emily tightened the boxer’s leash. Like most larger dogs, he had the strength of a bull, and she was glad she’d gained a little more muscle mass. She remembered taking her first couple of dog-walking jobs and feeling like the word “failure” was emblazoned on her forehead. When she’d let herself go a few years earlier, she looked gaunt, emaciated to some people, but now that her life had gotten back on track, she continued to work toward a healthier body. Dog-walking provided her a solid means to keep in shape.

Though she felt better about herself, she didn’t want to hear comments about her nice figure or her looks. People called her cute. She didn’t see that either. Her biggest concern was working harder toward a healthier attitude. She wanted to forgot those horrible years that had stifled her for so long. Over and over she’d reminded herself that God had wiped the slate clean, but a slate filled with sin remained vivid in her mind.

She tightened the boxer’s leash again while she located the key for his owner’s house. When she walked inside, the dog darted for his dish, the leash trailing behind him. Emily filled his water dish, unhooked the leash, then located the dry dog food. She emptied some into the dog’s bowl and watched him gobble it.

For a huge dog, this one had manners and always seemed happy when she arrived to walk him. Numerous times she’d been bullied by dogs she’d agreed to walk. She shook her head recalling some of the harrowing experiences, but with this boxer, she only had to battle his kisses.

Kisses. Martin Davis’s lips filled her mind, and Emily’s spine constricted. She hadn’t seen the man since Thursday—four days ago. She shook her head to remove the image of his engaging lips and his beguiling eyes.

Emily stood a moment, gathering her wits, then hung the dog’s leash on its hook and gave the boxer a final pet. As she headed for the door, the sound of her cell phone stopped her. She dug it from her purse and eyed the information. Molly. Molly didn’t phone her often. Emily pushed the button, concerned something might be wrong. Maybe something with Steph. When she heard Molly’s voice, she suspected she was right.

“You didn’t tell me the whole story about Martin Davis.”

Emily flinched. She’d thought she handled everything well. Fairly well. Martin’s request for her card rang in her mind. Maybe she hadn’t been kind when she said no, but she had to protect herself. “What do you mean? He didn’t bring Nessie back, did he?” She hated to think of him doing that to get even, but that evening, he’d charged out the door as if he’d spotted a tiger.

“No. No threats, but we have to keep our clients happy. Steph said he was nice enough when he talked with Nick, but he was upset that Nessie chewed the handle on his attaché case. You didn’t tell me that.”

“I didn’t know.” She shifted the boxer away from the door and opened it. “She must have done it when he came back into the office to ask some questions.” She decided to avoid the details. Emily slipped outside and checked the lock before heading for her car.

Molly gave a soft chuckle. “Well, that’s not all. The other morning Nick dropped in at Martin’s and heard Nessie had gnawed his Italian leather belt during the night.” Molly’s exhale sounded over the line. “I don’t suppose you warned him.”

“You should have seen him, Molly. He even smiled when Nessie licked his hand.” She stood beside her car, shifting to keep the sun from her eyes. “She’d been good with us, and I didn’t think of it.”

“She had toys here, not expensive leather belts and briefcases.”

Fear of what Molly might want her to do crept through her mind. She hoped she was wrong. “What does he want? Us to replace his belt?”

The line was silent a moment. “No. He wants training, and he would rather not take classes from me, because of his relationship with Brent. That’s what Nick said. They do business together, and…I don’t know, but he told Nick he’d be uncomfortable. So it’s your job. He doesn’t know you.”

And Emily wanted to keep it that way.

“He’s willing to pay extra for private home lessons.”

“Private? Why?” She’d be expected to spend time alone with him. She couldn’t keep him out of her thoughts now, and she’d only seen him once. Twice. The wedding flashed in her mind.

“You know men…especially this one. They have pride. He’s probably embarrassed that the dog knows more than he does.”

Emily stifled a chuckle, thinking of Martin’s know-it-all attitude. Then reality struck. “I’d rather not, Molly.” In the background, a dog’s bark echoed through the phone line.

“Are you afraid of him, or his reputation?”

“Probably his reputation. He was a little snarky Thursday.” Her mind tripped back to that day.

“Maybe he was trying to be funny and failed. You need to understand his bark is worse than his bite, and he doesn’t bark as much as he did.”

That gave Emily a rallying vote of confidence. “I’m still not convinced.” But she had changed. She had the Lord to thank for that. She’d witnessed Martin had changed, too. His tenderness with Nessie filled her mind and his occasional grin.

“I can’t force you, but it would be a favor to me, and Steph, too. Martin’s her brother-in-law.”

Emily let the thought rattle around in her mind. She wanted to protect herself but from what? A man. He wouldn’t give her a second look so what was she worried about?

A sigh escaped her. “I’ll see what I can do.” She tucked the cell phone between her ear and shoulder as she pulled a hunk of paper and a pen from her purse. “Give me the address and phone number.” Resting the paper against her car, she scribbled down the information. “Got it.”

“Thanks. I realize this is beyond the call of duty.”

She could picture Molly’s grin. “I know.”

She closed her phone and slipped it back into her handbag. Something about Martin irked her but intrigued her at the same time. He had gall, expecting a personal home visit. Dog shelters didn’t provide individual service. They did the best they could to save dogs’ lives by making them adoptable. But Martin had clout, and from all she’d heard, he liked getting his own way…unless that had changed, too.

A revelation came to her while talking with Molly, and Emily wanted to take care of that first before calling Martin. And she needed to get her mind in order. She wanted the tone of their meeting to be professional.

Once on the road, Emily realized Martin’s house would be easy to find. He lived next to Steph’s old home, from before she married Nick. Thinking of Steph, her mind clicked back to her first days at the dog shelter. Steph ran her doggie day care in the back of the building while Molly owned the shelter in the front. Both women loved dogs as much as she did, and it seemed like providence when Emily stumbled on the job shortly after the shelter had opened.

Dogs and three women who loved them. Meeting Steph and Molly had been a blessing.

Emily slowed as she approached the next corner. She veered into the right lane and turned. Glad she had the idea, she headed for a pet supply store certain that Martin hadn’t planned ahead. Dogs needed toys, things they could chew, and she wanted to pick up a training device to help Martin. He’d said he knew nothing about working with dogs so a quick lesson seemed suitable.

Shopping took only a minute, and Emily was back in the car. She stared at her handbag. She had to make the call. Thinking of tropical breezes and a lovely sunset, she calmed her thoughts. The technique worked for her. A Caribbean vacation had always been her dream. So romantic. The word jarred her. She forced her mind to a quiet place, then dug into her handbag and pulled out her cell phone.

After locating the scrap of paper with Martin’s phone number, she faced the keypad. Her fingers hesitated as she pressed the numbers. “Get a grip.” The phone rang and in minutes, Martin’s voice rolled through the line.

“This is Emily Ireland. Molly asked me to stop by so we could talk. Is today okay?”

“Perfect.” Relief sounded in his voice. “Do you know where I live?”

She said she did and hung up as soon as she could. After tossing her phone back into her bag, she turned the key in the ignition, pulled into traffic and retraced the route. Before long, her car nosed into Martin’s driveway. She’d never paid attention before, but today she sat a moment to drink in the homey look of his property.

Cedar-shake siding gave it a Cape Cod look, except for its sprawling size. Dormers accented the front windows, and a long porch enclosed by a railing added an old-fashioned look. Though the landscape offered low spreading evergreen shrubs beneath the dormer windows, Emily longed to see flowers. In spring, tulips and daffodils blossomed in beds around many homes. Grape hyacinths clustered in borders, but not here. Instead, a shade tree grew from a raised island with large stones and low-lying ground cover. If the house were hers, she would add flowers. Nothing seemed to make a home prettier than bright blossoms.

The vision made her ache for what might have been if she’d had a different life. She drew in a long breath, and instead of letting the mood affect her, she grasped the package and left the car. The closer she strode to the front door the more her nerves came out of hiding. He’d asked her to come. It wasn’t as if she was making a surprise visit.

Emily stood for a moment to gather her confidence, then pushed the bell. She heard a pleasant chime from within and waited.

The door opened, and Martin gaped at her a moment before he spoke. “That was fast.” He pushed open the screen door. “I didn’t know you were so close.”

She took a step backward. “If it’s a problem, I can—”

“It’s not a problem.” A faint grin slipped to his mouth. “Come in.”

Emily stepped inside, her gaze lowering to Martin’s stockinged feet against the stone-tiled foyer. Her stomach tightened. The image of Martin Davis looking as homey as his house seemed unreal. She’d never pictured him in jeans and a pair of socks looking like a regular homebody. He’d even flashed her a smile. The vision rushed through her.

Past the foyer, a family room lay in front of her where she could see patio doors leading outside. When he motioned her to come in further, she clamped her jaw to hold back her reaction. The foyer flowed into a huge living room with a stone fireplace and cathedral ceiling. Across the thick carpet she spotted a dining area. She loved the large open room, and when she looked at him, she couldn’t help but tell him. “This is wonderful for entertaining.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

She winced at his abrupt response. A distant sound distracted her followed by a scratching noise that caused her concern. “What’s that noise? Nessie?”

“I locked her in the laundry room where she can do less damage.”

Emily’s back tightened. “No.” She gave him a piercing gaze before she could stop herself.

He staggered back a step and looked at her with wide eyes. “What?”

“That’s not the way to train a dog.”

“No kidding.”

His sarcastic tone didn’t stop her. “Then why did you do it?”

His looked soften. “Emily, I don’t know how to work with a dog. That’s why I called Molly.”

She looked away, startled that she’d gotten so mouthy. “Let Nessie out of the laundry room. Then we can talk.”

He nodded and headed for the doorway off the dining room, his expression more like the man she’d seen when she walked into the house.

Although he hadn’t invited her, Emily followed. When she stepped into the kitchen, she quelled an appreciative moan. Expansive cabinets were highlighted by a large island. On the far side, a breakfast nook sat beside broad windows that looked into the backyard. She could imagine eating there in the morning, watching the birds flap their wings in a birdbath and squirrels skittering in the trees. She’d dreamed of a comfortable home with a pretty yard.

The scratching noise stopped, and Nessie darted into the room, her nails tapping against the wooden floor. She skidded to a stop beside her.

Emily lifted the terrier in her arms. Nessie’s tongue lapped across her hands before swiping her cheek. She cuddled the terrier, feeling her heartbeat pounding against her palm. “You poor little thing.” She nuzzled her face in the dog’s fur.

When she lifted her head, Martin watched her, a troubled look etching his face. “I didn’t think putting her in the laundry room was cruel.”

“No, but she’s frightened.” Nessie’s heartbeat slowed and she squirmed to get down. “Remember, she lost her owner, then spent two days with us, and now she’s with you. Can you imagine how you’d feel being taken from your home and locked in a cell like a prisoner, and then when you were bailed out and thinking you were saved, you were locked up again?”

Martin ran his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t think of it like that.”

His contrite expression wrenched her heart. When he lowered his hand, she gazed at his dark hair now ruffled by his fingers. He wore it with no part, short and thick with a natural wave. She longed to bury her hand in its thickness.

As if he heard her, Martin smiled.

Smile? She didn’t want him to smile. The pit of her stomach fell and rose, pressing air from her lungs. This yo-yo man vacillated from intolerable to lovable in the blink of an eye.

Her frustration weakened. “Can we talk?” She lowered Nessie to the floor.

He motioned behind her. “Let’s sit in the family room.” He pointed to the doorway.

As she moved ahead, he stopped in front of the refrigerator. “Iced tea?”

Emily thought of saying no, but nerves had dried her throat. “Yes, please. No sugar.” Though eager to view the family room, she watched him pull out glasses and pour the drinks. He looked comfortable in the kitchen, his stockinged feet padding along the oak planks. Who would have thought that Martin had a homey side in him? But he did, and she liked it.

Martin tilted his head toward the family room. “You didn’t need to wait.”

“I like watching you work in the kitchen.” The words sailed out with a mind of their own.

His grin brightened as he handed her the tea. “I find that interesting.”

She shrugged, wishing she had a snappy response. “I don’t have much of a kitchen. It’s a studio apartment.”

His grin faded, and she wished she hadn’t admitted it. She took one last sweeping gaze of his spacious kitchen before moving into the family room. When she did, sunlight filtered through the glass door onto the carpet, leaving sunny splotches and changing its color from beige to gold. Sunshine also radiated from above, and she lifted her gaze to the cathedral ceiling with a skylight. Ultimate luxury. She’d never known anything like this. She turned in a circle, searching to see if he’d thought to purchase a doggie bed for Nessie, a place she could call her own. She saw none.

Across from another fireplace—how many did one man need?—she eyed the wide patio door.

Martin stood in the doorway, watching her, but she didn’t care. She’d never been in a house like this. None of her clients had a home of this size. Nessie pit-patted beside her as Emily ambled across the room and looked through the glass. The large yard spotted with shade trees and shrubs looked inviting but lacked the flowers she loved.

She glanced over her shoulder. “I know it’s cool, but could we sit outside? Nessie probably needs to run, anyway.”

“Why not?” He followed her as she unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Nessie shot through the doorway, sniffing the ground and heading for an area in the back of the property.

“How about there?” Martin motioned toward the chairs arranged around an umbrella table.

Emily strolled over, forcing her mind to focus on why she’d come. The house and the attractive man gave her a fairy-tale feeling. Though she loved those children’s tales, she knew real life didn’t always have happy endings.

When she sat, she still clutched the paper sack in her hand. She set the package on the table and sipped the tea. The condensation wetted her fingers, and she wiped them on her jeans, then placed the glass on a coaster and gazed toward Nessie across the yard. “You have no flowers.” The thought shot from her mouth.

He looked up, peering at her as if she’d lost her mind. “What?”

Uneasy with her bluntness, she sank deeper into the chair cushion. “Your yard. It’s beautiful, but…”

His eyes searched hers, and a prickling sensation ran down her arms.

“Maybe it’s a woman’s thing.” He gazed across the lawn. “My mom always had flowers in the yard.”

His mom. The impact of his statement was unexpected. She’d never had anyone in her life she wanted to call Mom. Sometimes the word mother even clung to her tongue. Her hand trembled as she looked at Martin and thought of his home. She shouldn’t be sitting here like a friend. This wasn’t her world, and if she loved it too much, she—

“Is that for Nessie?”

His voice tugged her from her thoughts. When she looked up, his finger aimed at the sack. She lowered her hands to her lap, willing them to steady and begging her heart to stop pounding. “It’s for both of you, really.” Her voice sounded breathy. She sucked in air. “You can open it.”

Martin unwound the top of the bag and looked inside, emptying out a raw hide, a squeaky toy, and tug rope. He squeezed the plastic hotdog, releasing its high-pitched squeal. “Thank you so much.” He grinned. “I didn’t buy a thing for her.” He raised on one hip and slipped his hand into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet, his face so tender her knees weakened.

Panic filled her as Emily shook her head. “No. It’s a gift.” Her heart pummeled her chest as she rose. “Nessie needs a spot to call her own, too. Everyone needs a place…” She dragged in some air. “A place to call home.” She stepped back from the table, overwhelmed by her feelings of sadness and fear.

Martin frowned and leaned forward, his wallet still clutched in his hand. “What are you doing?”

She backed away. “I have to leave. I’m sorry.”

“But what about—”

“I’m sorry.” She rushed to the patio door. “Thank you for the tea.” She dashed through the house and onto the porch, as if midnight had struck and she had to make her getaway.