One Careful Owner: Love Me, Love My Dog Read online

  “Are you kidding me?” Jon said, his voice spiking with outrage.

  “Yeah, he’s got a freakin’ axe in his truck!” added Ashley, annoyed at being left out.

  “And I’ve got a chainsaw in mine, but it doesn’t make me Leatherface.”

  Dan’s voice was sardonic, and I would have laughed if it hadn’t all been so serious. Then Mr. Winters started typing again.

  CAN WE GO HOME?

  Any thoughts of laughter drained away. He sat in the chair, his shoulders slumped, his left hand rhythmically stroking Stan’s head. He was seeking comfort from the one creature who truly understood him. Tears stung my eyes. We must have all seemed so callous to him, vindictive even, accusing him of trying to hurt a little girl when all he’d wanted to do was save those tiny kittens.

  I decided there and then that I wouldn’t make any more assumptions.

  And I could see that the day had drained the fight out of Mr. Winters.

  Dan read his message and nodded.

  “Of course. You’re free to go whenever you like.”

  He stood up immediately, and Stan clambered to his feet grumbling softly.

  “Mr. Winters,” I said quickly, trying to think of something to say that would show we weren’t all against him, “we’ve been trying to reach you to schedule another appointment for Stan after you missed the last one.”

  I’d tried to keep my voice gentle so it didn’t sound like I was judging him, but he closed his eyes and grimaced, and I wasn’t sure what that meant. I reached out and touched his arm, pulling away when his intense stare snapped to my hand.

  “We’ll email you,” I said gently. “But please don’t put it off too much longer. And don’t worry about the kittens—I’ll take good care of them.”

  My little speech apparently left him unmoved, his face cold and hard.

  He didn’t trust anyone. Life had taught him not to trust. I didn’t know if he’d ever learn to trust me.

  He glanced down, reminding me again how tall he was, and when I met his gaze, his expression lingered briefly. Then he turned around and walked out.

  Dan sighed heavily.

  “Well, that was a shitfest. How are those kittens?”

  I gave him a weary smile. “I think they’ll be okay now. He got to them just in time.”

  “Hmm, and how long did you say that cat was missing?”

  “A couple of weeks. She probably went into the forest to give birth to her kittens. I’ll have to let Mrs. Humphries know what happened. Should I tell her about him? About Mr. Winters?”

  “I guess that would be okay. And, Dawn, let me know if he brings in anymore injured animals, especially if it looks like they’ve been caught in snares.”

  “You think he’s doing it?”

  I felt indignant on Mr. Winters’ behalf, especially since he wasn’t here to defend himself.

  “I don’t know,” Dan said bluntly. “Just let me know.” Then he turned to his deputy. “Jon, you and me are going to do some training on correct police procedures.”

  Dawn

  I’D PROMISED KATIE ice cream. To be honest, she didn’t have to beg me too much, because I loved ice cream just as much as she did, although I drew the line at having it for breakfast.

  So mid-morning, we rode out to the Dairy Oasis at Lake Erie Community Park. Unfortunately, the line was out the door.

  “Let’s go play on the swings and come back in ten minutes,” I suggested.

  Katie huffed and puffed, but eventually agreed, and ran off while I headed for my favorite bench in the shade.

  It was already occupied, and as I approached, I recognized Mr. Winters’ sweet old dog, Stan. But I didn’t recognize the man he was with. Not at first.

  As I drew closer, I almost stumbled over my own feet, because then I did recognize the man sitting with Stan, and it really was Mr. Winters.

  I’d thought of him often since the incident with the Sheriff’s Department, so seeing him now, it was as if I’d conjured him up. Although he didn’t look like the man I’d last seen.

  After the axe incident, Girard townsfolk were agog—well, the ones who were connected to the Ashley-grapevine. The woman could have gotten a job with the ‘National Inquirer’.

  Some of her friends wanted him run out of town because of Missy, believing that he’d killed her or hurt her. Saner heads, like Dan’s, prevailed. Live and let live, was his philosophy. It was one of the reasons we were friends through all these years.

  But I couldn’t believe how different the talk-of-the-town looked now, which explained why I hadn’t recognized him. He’d shaved off his long beard, leaving just a little scruff, and had buzzed his hair military short. The transformation was stunning. He looked like a movie star with his strong jawline and sharp cheekbones. ‘Handsome’ didn’t even begin to describe him. And I couldn’t stop looking at his lips, surprisingly full and sensual now that they were uncovered—all things I’d never seen before because of his horrible shaggy beard.

  But his eyes—those mesmerizing golden-brown eyes. Only the chaos and pain that I saw in them was familiar.

  He was staring up the sky, his forehead creased with deep emotion, and Stan was watching him worriedly, a half-chewed sandwich abandoned on the grass.

  I seriously considered finding another bench and leaving him in peace, but he just looked so lost and alone. And I also wondered if his appearance was some sort of . . . I don’t know . . . some sort of sign that he wasn’t hiding anymore.

  “You know, you really should have him on a leash, Mr. Winters.”

  It was supposed to be a joke, since Stan was the most amiable, well behaved dog I’d ever met, but pretty lame as a conversation starter.

  Mr. Winters looked at me, confusion apparent in his expression, and then I think he recognized me, too, because he blinked several times, and if it had been any other man, I would have thought he was checking me out. But it occurred to me that I looked very different, as well. Instead of blue scrubs, I was wearing my favorite shorts and a tank top, and I’d swapped my glasses for contact lenses.

  He swallowed several times as if he might say something, but then just nodded and dropped his gaze to his own abandoned sandwich.

  I felt him flinch slightly as I sat down next to him. He seemed even more tense than usual, his jaw clenched.

  Stan gave me an anxious look, so I began stroking his head, something that calmed us both. His eyes closed as he happily blissed out.

  “Are you okay?” I asked quietly.

  I could tell that Mr. Winters was surprised by my question, and honestly I was, as well, but he nodded jerkily.

  He took several deep breaths, and I got the impression he was working himself up to speak, but again, no words came out.

  I tried a different approach. I knew he cared about Stan . . .

  “I’m sorry if I’m intruding, but you haven’t replied to our emails about Stan’s next appointment. His teeth really need looking at again.”

  He grimaced and shook his head.

  “Well, please don’t leave it too much longer. We want to try and keep as many of Stan’s teeth as we can.” I paused. “You know, I wouldn’t have recognized you if I hadn’t spotted Stan.”

  His blank, stony expression was back. Oh God! I shouldn’t have said that. It sounded judgmental and I hadn’t meant that at all.

  “Pardon me for saying so, but you seem . . . upset?”

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

  “B-bad . . . deh . . . deh . . . day.”

  Bad day. I wished I understood why he was having a bad day. The sun was shining, and a soft breeze was blowing off the lake; the park was beautiful and the tall trees offered shady, dappled light from the growing heat.

  But the chaos inside a person can be overwhelming. There’s no law saying it has to match the outside.

  “Okay,” I said simply.

  I sat stroking Stan, staring toward the lake. But I noticed that his owner kept giving me these small glances
out of the corner of his eye, and I couldn’t tell if he wanted me to leave or if he was working himself up to speak. So I sat with him in silence, waiting.

  Stan must have approved of my presence, because after thinking it through, he transferred his head from Mr. Winters’ leg to mine.

  “Hey, Stan,” I said softly, stroking his ears.

  He hummed happily, and Mr. Winters frowned in disapproval.

  “What?” I asked, staring at him questioningly.

  Finally, he met my eyes.

  They were beautiful, a soft hazel color with golden flecks, and framed with long black lashes, but full of questions, full of uncertainty.

  He looked away, glanced down at Stan and frowned. Then he shrugged and I gave a quiet laugh, understanding his chagrin at Stan’s transfer of affections.

  “Stan already knows I’m a dog person.”

  I paused again, studying him more closely. His jeans were new, cheap and unbranded, but looked amazing on his long legs. His t-shirt was old and faded, softened by hundreds of washes, and clung to his muscled body.

  When I’d first seen Stan, I’d searched for the Mr. Winters who looked like the proverbial mountain man—instead I’d found a brooding hottie. It was so confusing and . . .

  “Mommy! Mom!”

  Katie’s impatient voice pierced the air. Mr. Winters looked up, alarmed, as she waved frantically. He actually flinched at the noise.

  “Oh, excuse me a moment,” I said with a reassuring smile. “Duty calls.”

  I stood up and walked away, meeting Katie outside the shop.

  “The line’s gone, Mom. Who was that man? I like his dog. Are you having Rocky Road or triple chocolate chip?”

  “He’s a client and his dog is a real sweetie. Well, I’ll have Rocky Road today, I think. What about you?”

  She screwed up her face in concentration, and I had to hold in a smile. We both knew that she’d have Rocky Road because she always did.

  “Um . . . um . . . Rocky Road, please!”

  I couldn’t help laughing this time.

  “Okay, want to go and find us a bench to sit on?”

  I watched her running off, and then to my shock, she ran right over to Mr. Winters. That was not what I meant when I’d told her to find somewhere to sit.

  I almost followed her out of the shop, my mommy-sensors kicking into overdrive, but the line behind me was growing again and Katie was still in my eye-line. So I ordered the ice creams, paid, and waited impatiently, casting anxious glances in Katie’s direction, then finally hurrying after her.

  She was flopped on the grass with her arms around Stan who looked as if he was in heaven as she hugged him and talked to him.

  Mr. Winters’ on the other hand seemed somewhat startled but . . . he was smiling . . .

  Dear God, the man was beautiful!

  Katie was chattering away as usual, although I couldn’t tell if she was talking to Stan or trying to talk to Mr. Winters. She didn’t tend to discriminate with her rapid-fire words. Watching the three of them . . . I didn’t know how to feel about that. Katie was usually wary around men—she just didn’t have many of them in her life. She saw her father once every six or seven weeks, whenever it was convenient, with his busy schedule or so he said, and she’d never really liked Uncle Bob. I hadn’t either, so when my sister got divorced, that was another one off of the list, and Mom and Dad had retired to Florida.

  “I’m sorry about that,” I said as I approached carrying the two ice creams. “Now, Katie, what have I told you about how to approach dogs you don’t know?”

  Katie wrinkled her nose.

  “But I just know he’s a sweetie,” she reasoned. “I can tell. And anyway, you told me he was.”

  Stan licked her nose and she giggled.

  “This is my daughter, Katie,” I said, introducing her formally, although it seemed as if she’d already made herself at home with them.

  “He’s been telling me all about Stan,” Katie said seriously. “His brother found him. He ran away to join the circus. What’s your name?”

  My eyebrows shot up. He’d been talking to her?

  “This is Mr. Winters,” I said faintly, questions shooting through me as Katie rambled on.

  “He likes the Katy books, too. He’s going to read to me.”

  Now I really didn’t know what to say, and Mr. Winters looked equally confused. Katie and Stan were the only ones who were completely at ease.

  “I’m sure Mr. Winters is far too busy for anything like that,” I said at last, passing one of the cones to Katie. “Come on, Katie-kay, let’s go eat our ice creams and leave Mr. Winters in peace.”

  “Bye, Stan. Bye, Mr. Winters,” yelled Katie as she ran off.

  He looked up when Katie left, his eyes following her for a second before moving back to Stan. He seemed suddenly so lonely, as if he’d enjoyed a few moments of our company. I touched his arm briefly and his eyes shot to mine as his mouth dropped open in surprise.

  “Feel better, Mr. Winters,” I said quietly.

  I walked away more than a little confused. Katie skipped ahead, oblivious to the bewilderment that churned inside me.

  I wasn’t lying when I said I would never have recognized him but for Stan. The transformation was stunning. He’d been hiding an amazing face under all that hair and beard—I don’t think Ashley would be calling him a weirdo loner if she saw him now. If anything, she’d say he was . . . hot.

  He obviously wasn’t used to his new look, because he kept shaking his head, as if expecting his hair to flop over his face, covering his eyes the way it used to, and I could see him fighting back his anxiety because there was nothing to hide behind.

  He’d become something of a talking point since he came to Petz Pets and was very nearly arrested. Ashley made sure to spread that enticing piece of gossip. But the few sightings of him in Girard since, his silence and his appearance, it had gotten the rumor-mongers circulating quickly.

  Luckily, Dan stomped on the most outrageous of them—escaped convict, serial killer—so in the end, weirdo-loner was the worst the gossips could come up with.

  I hadn’t mentioned my theory of a speech impediment again, which was just as well, considering Katie thought he’d agreed to read to her.

  I caught up to my hyperactive daughter.

  “Katie-kay, what exactly did Mr. Winters say to you?”

  She rolled her eyes, something that was becoming too much of a habit and reminded me of Stella.

  “I already told you, Mom.” Then she heaved a sigh. “He said Stan was a stray and his brother chose Stan’s name and he thinks he’s nine years old but he’s not sure. I made up the bit about him running away to join the circus, but the rest is true. And he knew the Katy books. I asked him to read them to me. Is he a friend of yours? I like him. He listened to me.”

  My daughter had an active imagination, but she wasn’t a liar. If she said Mr. Winters talked to her, then he did. So that blew my theory out of the water.

  But there was certainly something about him. I wouldn’t say strange, exactly . . . he just seemed so sad. And lonely. Very lonely.

  I wonder what had happened to him.

  He’d looked apologetic when I mentioned Stan’s missed appointment, so I hoped he’d bring him in another time. Although Stan was definitely much happier than last time I’d seen him—even if his diet didn’t appear to have improved.

  But Mr. Winters’ appearance! That was the biggest shock. I wonder what caused him to shave off his long hair and thick beard. An image flashed through my mind of Mr. Winters standing in front of a bathroom mirror. I imagined him showering, drying himself with a towel, wrapping it around those lean hips, then tipping his head back and exposing his neck as he shaved—naked, as he ran a razor across his cheek, revealing the skin beneath, soft, vulnerable. His body hard, his heart guarded.

  Dear God. I’d finally found a man I was attracted to and he was a mute loner and probably wanted in several states. Stella would be so proud.
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  Stan

  I was proud of the boss. He’d talked to that cute kid like a real human being. Okay, he hadn’t done so great when her mom was around, but it was a start.

  I also knew that the doc thought he was a cool dude, and the boss wasn’t exactly immune to her either. Attraction, pheromones, whatever you want to call it, I can scent them. And seeing as my sense of smell is a thousand times better than a human’s, I know what I’m talking about. Pee-sniffing isn’t just me getting my rocks off: I can tell who’s been around, their age and breed, and I can definitely tell if a hot bitch has been marking her way for me to follow.

  Hey, if you’ve got it, flaunt it. Or, at my age, use it or lose it.

  But whichever way I looked at it, the boss and the doc were definitely having some serious eye contact. And that could only be a good thing.

  I hoped.

  Unless she broke his heart like that other bitch. In which case, she could kiss my hairy ass.

  Dawn

  I was still thinking about meeting Mr. Winters in the park when we arrived at Nancy and Spen’s house.

  They were friends of my parents, and since Mom and Dad relocated to Orlando, they’d become surrogate grandparents to Katie.

  “My favorite girls!” Nancy said with a smile as she opened the door. “Go on through to the backyard, Katie-kay—Spen’s got the grill working and there’s a hamburger with your name on it.” Then she turned to me and smiled. “You’re looking well, Dawn. You have a little color in your cheeks. How are you? That little girl running you ragged? My, she could talk the hind leg off of a three-legged donkey.”

  I gave Nancy a hug. She and Katie had a lot in common, and I loved them both.

  “We’re good. How are you and Spen?”

  “Breathing and vertical, which isn’t so bad at our age. Come on through.”

  I could smell the grilling burgers as I walked into the backyard and my mouth watered. Despite the ice cream I’d had just an hour ago, my stomach rumbled.