Pamela Hearon – Right Where We Started (страница 13)
She started to walk with the child at her side—the little girl had hair as bright as her mama’s. So she lived within walking distance—but then everybody must live within walking distance in this hole-in-the-wall town.
He allowed himself a casual glance. They walked east. That was good. When he went back to get his boat, which he’d left tied up at the marina while he came into town to grab a quick bite, he’d watch for her car. Not many streets turned off Main Street on the east side of town. It might take a few days to check them all. Might even require coming early in the morning or late at night. But fishermen were notorious for keeping strange hours.
He took the last few bites, pausing for a few minutes to stretch his arms out along the back of the bench—seemingly in no hurry to chase after the redhead who had now gotten out of sight. Then, like a dutiful citizen, he gathered up his paper wrapper and foam cup and threw them away in the trash can before heading back to his truck.
By the time those coppery tresses came back into his view, Audrey and the child were almost to the edge of town. Only one house remained on the left side of the road and none on the right. So the house on the corner must be hers. He turned his signal on and turned left onto Beecher Road, never glancing her way.
A little way up the road on the right was a driveway. He slowed a tad to check it out. Her tan SUV! Right there, plain as day in front of the two-story house. The only house on the road, he noted, as he drove on back to the marina.
“Going out again?” The marina guy—probably Beecher himself—came out of his small shop as Trey got out of his truck and headed to his boat.
Trey grinned broadly, letting out some of the excitement racing through his body. “Can’t stay away when there’s one out there just waiting to be caught.” He laughed, knowing he was safe in his admission, and he heard the echo of his dad laughing with him.
Beecher’s eyes tightened slightly. “You’re not from these parts.”
Trey had spent the better part of the day out in the boat, listening to his daddy’s voice conjure a sympathetic story.
He shook his head, turning down the wattage on his smile until it became appropriately sad. “West Virginia.” He sighed. “Spent the last two years since my daddy died taking care of my mom, God rest her soul.” He removed his cap for a second and covered his heart, then flipped it back up on his head. “She had Alzheimer’s. Died last month.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Beecher’s lips pressed to a thin line.
“She’s better off, but her death knocked the wind out of my sails.” Trey glanced away, blinking back tears that were meant for Granny, not his mom. “I just couldn’t stay there. Decided it was time for a new start. Leave the bad memories behind and carry the good ones with me, you know?” He patted his chest over his heart.
“So, you’re looking to move here permanently?”
Trey shrugged. “Staying at a motel in Benton right now,” he lied. “But I like the fishing here. Like Kentucky Lake. If something turns up in the way of work, I’d consider it. Money’s not going to last forever.”
Beecher nodded and held out his hand to shake. “I’m Sol Beecher, by the way. I didn’t introduce myself earlier.”
Trey shook the extended hand warmly. “Trey Cooper.”
“I’ll keep my ear to the ground.” The fancy phone on Beecher’s belt started playing some idiotic song. He reached for it. “If I hear of any jobs, I’ll let you know.”
“I’d be muchly beholden.” Trey laid on the good old Appalachian-boy charm. He got in his boat and started untying as Beecher answered his phone.
* * *
“THE HOLES ARE lined up perfectly right there. Can you hold it long enough for me to screw it in?” Mark couldn’t see Audrey through the pet door. She was on her knees inside the garage, and he was on his knees outside.
“I’ve got it.”
Using his dad’s electric screwdriver made quick work of the top two screws. “Okay. The top ones are in. It’s not going anywhere now, so you can let go.”
Her grunt of relief came through the plastic as did the rustle of her movements as she stood up. She’d helped cut the installation time in half, he figured. He placed the other four screws, then stepped inside to add the finishing plate. “Tess.” The child looked up from where she sat on the floor beside the dog bed, cradling the puppies in her lap. “If you’ll put the collar on Cher, we’ll see if this thing works.”
“It should, if I got the batteries in everything the right way.” Audrey handed the collar to Tess to do the honors.
Cher seemed to understand and enjoy being on the receiving end of all this attention. She held her nose high in the air as Tess attached the hot pink collar with the battery device.
Mark taped the hinged flap open, like the directions suggested, then he grabbed a few treats from the bag on the counter and handed a few to Tess. “Let’s see if our dog can pass first grade.” He tapped Tess on the nose. She answered with a smile and a nod.
He went outside and stood a few feet from the door. “Cher!” He whistled. “Come here, girl.”
In a flash, the dog was through the hole in the door. He heard Tess’s and Audrey’s applause as he praised the dog and gave her a treat. “Now, call her back in.”
Tess called her, and with ears and tail held high, Cher plunged back inside. They did this several times, until he was sure the dog understood the game plan. Then he went back inside and lowered the flap. “Fingers crossed,” he said over his shoulder as he went back out.
He called and whistled, and almost immediately heard the
“Good girl.” Mark scratched behind her ears and gave her a treat. “She has to learn to wait for the signal,” he said, loud enough for them to hear him inside. “Okay, call her back.”
This time it was Audrey who called her name, and Cher loped toward the door, butting it again with her head. Then the soft buzz sounded and she was through.
It took seven more tries, but the dog caught on quickly. By the ninth time, she hesitated long enough for the signal to buzz and then pushed through.
“Woo-hoo!” came the cheers from inside.
“If it takes eleven times to make something a habit,” Mark called to his companions, “our dog’s above average.” Getting to use the plural possessive pronoun made his smile broaden.
They called Cher back and forth a few more times to make sure she truly had the hang of it before he went in. Tess met him at the door with a grin and a high five, and when he turned his attention to Audrey, she did the same.
There it was! The first smile from her meant for him in eleven years. His breath caught as her happy eyes met his and her hand reached up for a slap. He met it with his own and caught it, letting their palms brush for a second that exploded with joy in his heart. He knew better than to push his luck, but he couldn’t help himself. Touching her for even a second and having her touch him back willingly wasn’t something he was sure he’d ever experience again, and he wanted it to linger.
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