Chapter Fourteen
The first thing Aidan heard when he reached the open kitchen door at Waterford Farm a few days later was a sudden outburst of laughter and a few hearty barks. He paused on the patio, listening to it, sizing up whose voices he heard, and waiting for that twist of discomfort he’d felt for the first month at home.
Shane, Garrett, Darcy, Dad…and no twist. Not even a quick punch in the gut. Just a nice desire to go in, drink some of the coffee, and maybe eat whatever smelled like fresh-baked buttery perfection. That pleasant change made him smile as he entered and got hit with a noisy greeting as sweet as the croissants they were all chowing down on.
“Aidan, good to see you.” Dad came right over to give him a bear hug, and Rusty followed, taking a sniff. “Liam’s not here today if you were planning to do some K-9 training with him.”
Aidan raised a brow and absently reached down to pet the setter’s deep-red fur. “Andi feeling okay?”
“She’s fine, but remember he’s slowed all his work until after the baby’s born.”
“S’okay. I just came over to say hi.”
“Everything going well at Slice of Heaven?”
“Yep.” In fact, “well” was an understatement. Ever since the night in the kitchen, there’d been a constant buzz of electricity between them, though he hadn’t kissed her again.
He was enjoying the work as much as the company, laughing a lot, and feeling better than he had in weeks. Months. Maybe more. But the biggest surprise of all—he’d been missing his family, which was why he got up and came over here this morning.
Dad gestured toward an open box in the middle of the island. “Grab a croissant. I managed to snag them the minute Linda May brought them out of the oven this morning.”
“You’ve already been in town today?” It wasn’t even eight thirty.
Dad shrugged and unhooked a white mug for Aidan’s coffee. “I was outside with some new rescues howling for attention at five in the morning. So, I ran in early and got us some breakfast from the bakery since Crystal isn’t coming in until ten today.”
“Plus, the bakery is owned by…” Darcy, seated at the island counter, leaned into Shane. “Linda May.”
“Oh, Linda May.” Shane drew out the baker’s name in a low tease. “But then again, she may not.”
Garrett, a phone in one hand and a mug in the other, chuckled. “Good one, Shane.”
Good one? “Don’t you guys get tired of pestering Dad?” Aidan asked. “It’s not like he’s out there on the hunt for a new wife.”
“Thank you,” Dad said, handing him a steaming cup. “It’s like a blood sport around here.”
From the counter, Shane, Garrett, and Darcy looked up, feigning innocence.
“We want you happy, ol’ guy.” Shane lifted his mug. “Like we are.”
“Who’s old?” Dad lobbed back. “I’m busy running this place and on damn near every committee in town. Plus, I’ve been working at both vet offices because Molly’s planning her wedding and going off with Trace half the time—”
“I heard that.” Molly came through the same door that Aidan had just used, her reddish-brown curls wild and her eyes bright. “And I’m here all day, so you don’t have to cover for me anymore, Dad.”
His sister breezed into the kitchen, giving a wave to Shane, a high five to Garrett, and leaning over to plant a kiss on Darcy’s head. “Hey, gorgeous.”
“Where’s Trace?” Darcy asked. “I saved him the last chocolate chip.”
“What a dear sister-in-law you’ll be. He went to see Tashie and Boris, of course,” she said, referring to the service dogs Trace was training. “But he’ll join us soon. And speaking of joining us…” She turned to Aidan, arms outstretched. “Where have you been?”
“In town, mostly,” he said, hugging his sister with almost as much fierceness as she did him.
“Oh yes, I’ve heard! I know all about Ruff and how you gallantly handed him over to Charlie’s sister. You are truly a hero, little brother.” She got up on her tiptoes and brushed his cheek with a kiss. “Also heard Beck’s a ten and that you two took a long walk with the dog and that you’re practically inseparable at her uncle’s pizza parlor, with your heads together in the kitchen trying to re-create the perfect pizza.”
He drew back, not sure whether to laugh or cry. “Pru or Gramma Finnie?” he asked, already guessing the source of all this ridiculously accurate intelligence.
“Both. The dog part was Pru, but Gramma pronounced her a ten. Actually, I think the expression she used was ‘a dime,’ because, well, Gramma.”
“And the pizza part?”
Darcy raised her hand. “Guilty. Carly, the part-timer at Slice of Heaven? I groom her golden, and the girl likes to chat.” She grinned. “‘Inseparable’ is a direct quote, so if you want to keep that stuff on the DL, remember the walls have ears and eyes.”
“And, apparently, a mouth.”
“Isn’t it good to be back?” Molly teased, slipping by him to get the coffee Dad poured for her.
Was it? No doubt, Molly’s question was rhetorical, but he sure didn’t feel quite as suffocated in this kitchen as before, so maybe he had just needed some time away.
“Yes,” he answered. “It’s good to be back, but Beck and I are hard at work trying to discover her uncle’s secret recipe, which was forgotten with his stroke.”
“Oooh. Secret sauce. Is that what they’re calling it now?” Darcy cooed with about as much subtlety as an Uzi in target practice.
“What does that mean, Darc?” he shot back, purposely playing dumb.
“It means…” She looked around for help, but didn’t get any as the rest of them were maybe a tad more chill or mature than his little sister. “It means I hope you’ll share whatever you two are cooking up. Maybe next Wednesday night dinner. Where were you last night, by the way?”
“Making pizza, like I told you.”
“So, any luck in the kitchen?” Shane asked. “With the pizza, not Beck.”
Aidan rolled his eyes. “We’ve made more than a dozen different recipes and taken slices—along with Ruff—every afternoon to Mike Leone. The good news is he’s done two sessions of PT. The bad news? No secret recipe.”
But, damn, they were having fun trying.
“So you’re not back here for good?” Garrett asked, a hopeful look in his eyes.
“You need me, Bro?” Aidan asked without a second’s hesitation. He couldn’t do much for Garrett’s rescue operation, but the two were close in age and spirit, and Aidan would do anything for his older brother. Anything but leave Beck right now, so he braced himself for the response.
“Nothing anyone can do to help.” Garrett set his coffee cup on the counter with added force. “I got more dogs than families, is all. Couple of purebreds, a few puppies that aren’t going into service dog training with Trace, and Marie wants to send fifteen more next week.”
“Fifteen?” Aidan blinked.
“Some asshole—excuse me”—Garrett shot a look at Dad—“had fifteen damn dogs locked in vans in a garage.”
A collective groan rolled around the room.
“Do we have room for that many dogs?” Aidan asked, picturing the packed kennels.
“More or less. If I can find the ones I have the right homes.”
Garrett was picky as hell about rescues. These rescues would be loved, healed, and trained to perfection before he sent them out, and when he did, he had to be positive the family on the receiving end was worthy of the gift.
“I keep finding people who are too far away. But I’ll take the dogs,” Garrett assured Aidan. “And you keep doing what you’re doing. You look…happy.”
There was a millisecond of silence in the room, but Aidan lifted his mug at them to cover the awkward beat. “Like Gramma said, Beck’s a dime.”
That made them all laugh, while he drank his coffee.
“Well, I understand Mike Leone’s desire to remember his recipe,” Shane said. “Chloe had a bunch of tourism stuff out yesterday, and I saw that guy’s won Best of Bitter Bark in the pizza category every year for, like, twenty-five.”
“Twenty-four,” Aidan corrected, and Dad let out a low whistle.
“Twenty-four years? I remember the first time he won like it was yesterday. Jeez, I am getting old.”
“Not old, Dad,” Molly interjected. “They’re calling it ‘seasoned’ now.”
Gramma Finnie came into the kitchen, her white hair coiffed, her cardigan du jour buttoned neatly up to her throat. “If he’s seasoned, then I’m cooked to a crisp.”
“Stop it, Gramma,” Darcy chimed in, scooting off her seat so her grandmother could have it. “You’re eighty and outrageous is what you are.”
While the jokes flew fast and furious, Aidan settled in on another barstool, eating one of Linda May’s famous croissants and soaking up the relaxed atmosphere. Maybe all he’d needed was some time away. With Beck.
“Yikes, I’m late.” Darcy popped up in the middle of the conversation, looking at her phone. “I have a bichon coming in at eight forty-five.” She snapped her fingers. “Kookie! Let’s move it, luv.”
Darcy’s tiny white Shih Tzu, with gray and white fur brushed nearly to the floor and adorned with a ribbon between her ears, shot out from the dining room, followed by Rusty, who loped over to Dad as if he’d suddenly realized he wasn’t next to his master.
“Speaking of seasoned.” Dad put his hand on the old dog’s head and stroked him. “There’s my boy.” Then Dad nodded to Aidan. “Before you leave, can we talk? In my office? I have something I want to show you.”
“Be right there.” He cleaned his mug, polished off another pastry, and headed out of the kitchen to the other side of the rambling house where Dad’s office was at the end of the long hall. There, he found his father seated at his oversized desk, the sun streaming through a window behind him.
Next to him, Rusty was curled in one of his favorite beds, but he got up and took a few steps closer to Aidan, looking for the affection that every person who entered this room offered the dog. Aidan rubbed his shiny red fur and got down so that he was eye to brown eye with him before dropping into the guest chair across from Dad’s always neat and shiny desk.
“What’s up?” Aidan asked.
He didn’t answer right away, but slowly opened a manila file folder, taking his time as Daniel Kilcannon often did when he had something of importance to impart.
A lecture on not being around enough? A change in schedule that would mean he’d have to stand in for Liam? Or some fatherly advice that he so often handed out freely whether his kids wanted it or not?
“I’ve discovered something…interesting in Charlie and Ruff’s papers.”
Aidan leaned forward. Didn’t see that coming. “Interesting?”
Dad blew out a slow breath, lifted a sheet, and moved it to the side, then picked up another. “Cilla was given an exhaustive file from the Army representative who ultimately handed Ruff over to her.”
He frowned, imagining what could be in such a file about a stray Charlie found wandering about a bombed-out hospital north of Kabul. He certainly had no papers and hadn’t been chipped. No one had ever tried to claim Ruff by making contact with the Army. What else could be in that file? He waited as Dad scanned a piece of paper, then lifted his gaze to meet Aidan’s.
And his heart stopped. He knew that look, knew it meant that what was about to be said might be life changing.
“There’s a copy of Charlie’s Record of Emergency Data,” he said.
“His DD93?” That form on file for every deployed soldier, stating next of kin. That person was responsible for doling out any specific items and honoring any additions or personal requests. It was also not something the Army usually sent out unless someone asked to see it. So, why include it with transport papers? “It names Beck as next of kin, right?”
“Yes, it does.”
Aidan shifted in his seat, stretching out his legs, trying to wrap his head around this loss of a dog he wanted so much. He’d begun to accept that Ruff was staying with Beck. No, he’d more than accepted it. He understood it. And that made each day with both of them even more precious.
“So, as next of kin, her claim to Ruff is really cemented. Is that what you’re saying, Dad?”
Because all he had was the pain-swathed mutterings of a dying man.
“Not exactly.” Dad extended the paper over the desk to hand it to Aidan. “Just the opposite. In fact, I believe this was included in the package because this is the single document that made it possible to get Ruff transported in the first place. The Army couldn’t ignore this request.”
Aidan peered at the words on the form, skimming the typed text down to an addendum at the bottom, dated early summer of last year. The words typed into the box punched him as he read.
In the event of my demise, my dog, Ruff, is to be officially transported to Waterford Farm in Bitter Bark, North Carolina, by contacting the owner, Daniel Kilcannon, who will arrange transport. The dog is to be kept there until which time Major Aidan Kilcannon returns home, when he will become Ruff’s rightful owner.
It was signed by Charles John Spencer in distinct handwriting that Aidan instantly recognized.
The whole page seemed to move in front of him, maybe from the unexpected tears of sheer disbelief. And he couldn’t speak for a minute.
“Sort of shifts the momentum, doesn’t it?” Dad asked.
Aidan finally tore his gaze from the document. “It’s not a game or a battle.”
Dad conceded with a nod. “But you both want the dog. This addendum, which was signed by the CO and officially added to Charlie’s file, offers compelling and, some might say, indisputable proof that you are the owner Charlie selected.”
He waited for that kick of victory, but all Aidan could see was the sorrow he’d have to face in Beck’s pretty brown eyes. The light would go out. The lips would turn down. Her narrow shoulders would fall in defeat…and he’d…oh man.
“This is going to destroy her.”
Dad dropped his elbows on the desk and rested his chin on his knuckles, saying nothing as he stared at Aidan.
“But if I ignore it,” Aidan said, “then I’m not honoring Charlie’s specific last wishes.”
His father nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe there’s a way to work something out. You’ll want to move the dog in the least-disruptive way, since he’s already having a bit of a struggle.”
“You know that?”
“Dec was at dinner on Wednesday and told us you called him at the fire department when Ruff got away from Beck.”
“That wasn’t her fault,” he said, sitting up straighter to make sure her dog skills were fairly defended. “Ruff isn’t easy. I told you he’s essentially untrainable. Although he is like a different dog with her uncle, but no one else.”
“I knew he needed to find his purpose.” Dad picked up a different paper from the file. “He could very well be a therapy dog. Maybe not officially trained, but since he was found at a hospital and has responded to a sick man? Comfort might be his job, and when he’s doing it, he’s happy.”
“I bet you’re right, but…” Aidan stared at the paper again, hearing Beck’s voice the night Ruff ran away. Please don’t take him away from me. Please. “Would it be wrong to ignore this?” he asked, praying to hear the answer he wanted.
But his father didn’t answer, narrowing his eyes. “Regardless of what you decide to do, Son, this is Charlie’s official statement about who should have the dog. I thought you’d be all over this.”
Except now…he cared about Beck. More than Charlie? More than Ruff? He didn’t know. “It’s a dilemma,” he said. “Do I do what Charlie wanted, or give Beck what she wants?”
“What do you want?”
He stared at his father, unable to answer the question any way but honestly. “I want her to be happy.” The words slipped right out and betrayed him. Shocked him, too. But nothing fazed the Dogfather, who nodded as if he totally understood that sentiment.
“Could she have seen this?” Aidan asked.
“Does the Army copy next of kin, or did we get it because of Ruff?”
“Not unless the NOK sends a specific request. She might have, if she thought I was going to push it with the dog.”
“But you’re not going to push it with the dog.” It was a statement, as if Dad already knew the answer.
Aidan exhaled softly. “I don’t know.”
“The longer you wait, the more she and Ruff bond. It’ll be hard for her and the dog to separate.”
And the longer he waited, the more he and Beck bonded. And it would be even harder for him to let her go. “I’ll figure it out,” he said, pushing the paper back across the desk. “Don’t you think that Charlie’s real last request was that Beck be happy? Whether she has the dog or not, he only wanted her to be happy. Ruff safe, of course, but Beck happy.”
Dad steepled his fingers and leaned his chin on the tips, eyeing Aidan with open scrutiny.
“Your mother would be so proud of you,” he said finally, making Aidan draw back.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“But the question you asked would make her proud. No ‘Aidan’ in the mix of who is happy, just others. You know that would make her proud.”
“It’s hard to be around here without her,” he admitted.
Dad’s laugh was mirthless and quick. “Don’t I know it.”
“And why do you let those goons tease you about dating, anyway? You’re not going to meet a woman like Mom.”
He smiled. “Let them have their kicks, Aidan. They’re all in love, and they want to spread the joy.”
“But you won’t, will you? Date?”
He angled his head. “Am I asking you personal questions about Beck?”
Which wasn’t an answer, but Aidan understood. “Well, I guess you don’t have to, based on the way I’m responding to this news.”
Dad laughed. “Garrett’s right. You seem happy.” He picked up the DD93. “But you do need to do the right thing about this, whatever that may be.”
He looked at the paper. It could give him Ruff, but lose him any chance with Beck. Was that a risk he was willing to take?