Chapter Seventeen
When he got to Waterford Farm that morning, Aidan poked his head into the grooming studio, checking for Darcy. He was surprised to find her with a packed house on a Sunday, up to her eyeballs in dog fur and barking hounds.
“Is this your creative way of getting out of church?” he asked as he walked into the sunny room she’d managed to turn into the girliest pet-grooming studio in the known world. It had a chandelier, for Pete’s sake, along with walls the color of Pepto-Bismol, furniture that looked like it was stolen from Versailles, and fancy silk boxes overflowing with ribbons, clips, and all manner of dog décor.
The place even smelled as sweet as Darcy herself.
“Garrett begged,” she said. “We finally got the famous fifteen, and they all need work.”
“Oh, right. The rescues that Marie had.” He hadn’t seen their old family friend since his return from the Army, but Marie Boswell had been a fixture in and out of Waterford since he was a teenager, maybe younger. She’d been a friend of his mother’s and was the woman who first started Annie Kilcannon on the path of dog fostering. “The dogs that were locked in a garage?”
He took a few steps farther into the studio, eyeing a skinny dog that had the ears of a basset but not much else to help identify its breed. “They’re bad, Aidan,” she said, all of her usual sunshine missing from her voice. “Look at this poor little lady.”
The dog was flat on Darcy’s worktable, eyes up and wide and sad while Darcy clipped her nails.
“What’s her name?” Aidan said, coming closer to pet the sorry little thing.
“Oh Lord, Marie was in charge of naming.”
He laughed. “So, if she was watching ESPN, it’s probably the Yankee roster or something. Don’t we have her to thank for Boris and Natasha after a Cartoon Network binge?”
Darcy smiled and switched paws, tapping her own fuchsia nails on the little dog. “Don’t forget Petunia, Rosie, Lily, and Dahlia when she took a gardening class.”
“So, who’s this?”
“Mammy.”
“Mammy?” He scowled. “What kind of name is that for a dog?”
“As good as Rhett, Ashley, Scarlett, Melanie, Carreen, Pa, Ellen, Charles, Belle, and Bonnie Blue.” At his look of total confusion, she grinned. “Gone With the Wind repeating on cable.”
He rolled his eyes and shook his head, glad to know that when they got to a forever home, they could get normal dog names. “And you’re grooming them all.”
“Garrett wants to get pictures and start lining up homes for the healthy ones. A few of them need TLC, and two are with vet techs now, waiting for Molly and Dad to get back from church.” She looked up at him, her blue eyes full of sadness. “How could someone stick fifteen dogs in vans with almost no food and water? What is wrong with humanity?”
He rubbed her shoulder, nodding. “You know what Liam says.”
“Dogs, because people suck,” she answered, knowing, as they all did, their oldest brother’s favorite motto.
Aidan wandered over to one of the waiting crates to where a wretched-looking Yorkie was rolled into a corner, shaking. “Who’s this?”
“Bonnie Blue, and she is.”
Without asking, he flipped the latch and reached in, moaning when he felt her tiny body vibrate with fear. “Oh, baby girl. C’mere.” She practically fit in his hand, still curled in a ball and terrified. “Don’t worry. Darcy’s going to cut your hair and make you look like a debutant’s dog.”
“I wish,” she said. “I’ll be lucky if she lets me trim her. She literally howls at the sight of scissors. I don’t want to think about why.”
“Oh.” He stroked the dog’s wee head, over and over, which made her stop quivering for about three seconds before she started up again. “A few weeks here and they’ll be good as new.”
“If we can find homes. It’s getting harder and harder, you know.” She leaned over and kissed Mammy’s forehead. “Don’t fret, love,” she whispered. Then, to him, she said, “I hear you and Beck are the chefs du jour. That’s a nice change from ‘I don’t wanna eat Sunday dinner.’” She imitated him with a high-pitched whine that amused and embarrassed him.
“Yeah,” he said on a laugh. “It’s been a good few weeks.”
“Like her, do ya?”
He looked over the little ball of shaking fur at his sister. “I’m afraid I do.”
“Afraid? What’s to be afraid of? Other than giving Dad another W on the scorecard.”
“You better hope not,” he joked. “Then you’ll be all he has left.”
“He has himself,” she fired back.
“Darcy, do you seriously want Dad to date? First of all, he’s sixty.”
“And handsome as hell, not to mention smart, funny, successful, and owner of a heart of pure gold.”
Holding the dog carefully, he eased onto a velvet-covered sofa-like thing that had no place in a grooming studio, but somehow it fit Darcy’s perfectly. “And that doesn’t bother you?”
“Not at all. And it shouldn’t bother you.”
“But it does,” he said.
“You know what I think?” she said, pointing her nail clippers at him. “I think it’s Dad you have issues with.”
“Dad? I don’t have issues with Dad. Hell, I broke the bank and a few rules to come home at Christmas ’cause you guys said it’s such a bad time for him. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Not for the past few weeks and before that, not mentally.” Her pretty brows drew together, making him notice that, for once, she wore no makeup and was still perfect. “Yeah, that’s your problem, Aidan. It’s Dad.”
“Dad.” He shook his head. “You’re wrong. I love Dad. He’s the best. He’s perfect. He’s the man we all aspire to be.”
“Not all of us,” she quipped. “But you do come from a long line of exceptional men, and he’s at the top. Maybe you don’t like pressure.”
He stood up, scowling at her, but careful not to squeeze the pupper. “I flew Black Hawks into war zones, kiddo. I thrive on pressure.”
She shrugged. “Then you come home and you’re the youngest brother again, trying to fit into a business you didn’t create.”
“And your point is?” He heard the edge in his voice, but didn’t care. Darcy’s armchair psychology wasn’t as good as his had been the other night with Beck. It sucked, actually.
“My point is Dad can put a lot of undue pressure on us, even if he does it with the best of intentions. You should talk to him about that. As far as him dating? He’s not interested, so you can stop fretting about it.”
“I don’t fret,” he shot back. “But I don’t like it.”
“Why? Don’t you think he deserves a love in his life?”
“He had a love in his life, Darcy.”
She stepped back and eyed Mammy critically. “I think you’re done, missy. Treat time!”
Mammy looked up, and her stubby tail knocked back and forth as Darcy offered a tiny strip of fake bacon. She gobbled it up in one bite.
Finally, Darcy looked up at him, her blue eyes misty. “Aidan, we all miss her, okay? It’s not just you. We all had a place in our heart that belonged to no one but Annie Kilcannon. And one by one, my siblings are finding another way to fill the holes in their heart. And, like it or not, Dad deserves that hole to be filled, too.”
He stared back for a long time, with a mix of affection for his wise little sister and resentment that he had that hole at all. “What about you? You’ve hit the big 3-0, Darc. Is there a man who’ll abide by velvet chairs and glitter bombs in his life?”
“Pffft. Not for years, my friend. I’ll marry after I’ve seen every square inch of this globe.”
“I can tell you a few inches to skip.”
She smiled. “Thanks. Now, give me that little bundle of cuteness and then put Mammy Jammy in the crate for me, ’kay?” When he handed the Yorkie to her, Darcy made a squeal of delight. “You calmed her down, Aidan. What a touch you have with the ladies.”
He snorted softly. “The four-legged kind.”
“Not working your magic on Beck?” she asked.
“Must you pry?”
“Must you make comments that require prying? Plus, you don’t come over here unless you need a shoulder to cry on or a woman’s opinion. Which is it?”
“Maybe I wanted to see my favorite sister.”
“You do seem like you’re doing better. Has it been that good to be away from all of us?”
“It’s been great,” he said, not even trying to deny it. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? Enjoying your time? I don’t take it personally that you don’t want to be at Waterford. Dad’s another story, though. He takes it very personally.”
He sighed and picked up the end of a crystal-encrusted leash. “Kill me if I ever put this on a dog.”
“That’s Kookie’s. Hands off.” She picked up a tiny silk handkerchief and carefully tied it around Bonnie Blue’s head, covering her eyes. “Okay, Bon-bon. You pretend you’re that horse in the movie you were named after who didn’t want to run past fire.”
The trick worked, calming the dog while Darcy clicked and clipped and brown hair fell like autumn leaves around the little dog. Then something caught his eye in the window behind her.
“Well, look at that,” Aidan said, stepping closer. “Is that Beck taking pictures?”
“Oh, yeah, she’s been at it for a little while. That’s Scarlett and Rhett. Didn’t they clean up nice?”
He barely glanced at the two dogs Garrett had on leashes, or Ruff powering around the pen like a lunatic. His attention was riveted on the woman working the camera. Her dark hair loose, she wore jeans and a flowy yellow top that fluttered in the breeze. He couldn’t hear her, but when she moved the camera and threw her head back, he knew exactly what that laugh sounded like.
“Take Mammy out there for me, Aidan. She’s ready for her close-up. And tell them I’ll have Bonnie Blue ready in about twenty minutes.”
He got up to retrieve another leash—not sparkly—and open the crate door to get Mammy. As he did, he threw a look at his sister.
“I’d say thanks for the talk, but I’m not sure I wanted to hear it from my little sister.”
She smiled at him. “Out of the mouths of babes…” She nodded toward the window. “And speaking of babes, I think yours is looking around for you. Go get ’er, tiger.”
He laughed and led Mammy outside, where Beck was bathed in sunshine and laughter. And all Aidan wanted was to bathe in both with her.
* * *
Beck crouched down as far as she could without falling on the grass, waiting for that split second when her lens would capture emotion in the eyes of her subject. “C’mon, baby. Come on. One look. One—oh, that’s good.”
She snapped, then gave in to gravity and let her backside hit the ground, laughing when the bug-eyed pug named Rhett lumbered over to sniff her. She held the camera over her head to give him some love and praise.
“That’s a great shot.”
At the sound of Aidan’s voice and the sight of Ruff bounding over to greet him, she looked up to find him bent over and sneaking a look at her image screen.
“Thank you.” She reached her free hand up, and he took it, gently pulling her to her feet. “Garrett hit me up for some pictures as soon as I got here.”
He didn’t answer right away, looking intensely at her, a quizzical expression she couldn’t interpret on his face.
“Is that okay?” she asked.
“Is this?” He leaned closer and stole a peck of a kiss. “I missed you.”
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she whispered back, “Same.”
They’d spent most of yesterday together at Slice, except for a quick trip she’d made to pick up Ruff from Uncle Mike. Lunch and dinner had been as busy as she could ever remember, and they’d said good night after cleaning the kitchen and making plans to meet here today.
And she’d thought about him every waking moment since then. In fact missed him was an understatement.
“It’s more than okay,” he said, but she wasn’t sure if he meant taking pictures or missing him. “These dogs need homes.”
“Fifteen, Aidan.” She shook her head in disbelief.
“That’s a lot in one day, even for Waterford.”
“And the way they were treated.” Her shoulders dropped as she thought of what Garrett had described to her. “One was in the trunk of a car. I can’t stand how wrong that is.”
“Marie Boswell, our friend who deals with rescues all over the state, is part of a forensics team that works to bring people like this piece of crap to justice. And after a few weeks at Waterford, the dogs will be strong and healthy.”
She smiled. “You sound as optimistic as I do.”
“I guess it’s contagious.” He couldn’t help it. Still holding her hand, he brought it to his lips for another kiss. It was like he couldn’t stop himself, and she knew exactly how that felt. “You want to start the pizza or continue taking pictures of the dogs?”
“Are we in a rush? I’d love to take pictures and meet all of the Fabulous Fifteen.”
He laughed at the nickname and nodded toward his brother, walking in their direction with the cutest yellow dog with ears that stood straight up like triangular antennas with a bright red bow between them. “Look at that Pommie. Insane.”
“That’s a Pomeranian?” she guessed.
“More or less. And she has Darcy’s fingerprints all over the grooming job.”
“Scarlett’s kind of wild,” Garrett said as he reached them, holding tight to a squiggling dog. “Not sure I can get her to settle down long enough to pose.”
“I don’t need a pose, just an expression.” Beck reached over and playfully flicked one of the stand-up ears. “You are a cutie, know that, Miss Scarlett?”
The dog barked once, sharp and loud.
“Take her, Aidan,” Garrett said, handing over the furry package. “I’ll get the other one back in and go round up a few more. And then hit Dad up for a huge Waterford investment.”
Aidan drew back. “You want to build more kennels to house them all?”
“I want to buy plane tickets to get at least some of them to families who’ve been wanting rescues from us but aren’t in state.” Garrett clipped a leash on little Rhett at the same time that he slipped a treat into the dog’s mouth. “Come on, Red. Even though you’re brown.”
“Rhett,” Beck corrected. “As in Rhett Butler, handsome hero of Gone With the Wind.”
Garrett rolled his eyes. “Marie’s whack. But right now, I don’t care what we call these dogs. If you make them look appealing and we get them healthy, maybe those families will be willing to pony up the cost of picking them up. Good luck with Scarlett.”
Aidan put the squirmy dog down, and she instantly took off, making it a good ten feet before he caught up with a few long strides. Knowing from experience with babies that the window of opportunity could open and close in a split second, she raised her camera and watched him through the viewfinder, making a quick adjustment to the f-stop to control the depth of field.
He got his arms around her little body and hoisted her up, turning and stopping and giving her a glorious shot. But she was pretty sure the potential adoptive parents wouldn’t want Aidan in their picture. Although…who wouldn’t?
He looked as golden as the Pommie in his arms, a lock of hair over his face, his smile as natural and wide as she could remember, his heavenly body moving like a man in complete sync with his environment.
She took another shot, and another.
“You do belong here,” she whispered as he came closer. “You look more at home at Waterford than anywhere else.”
A flicker of surprise glinted in his eyes. “Because I can catch a dog?”
She turned the camera to him to show him the last shot. “That’s the face of a happy man.”
“’Cause you’re here,” he shot back.
She gave him a sly smile. “Hold the dog as still as you can and lean away. I can change the background and photoshop you out.”
“Ouch. So easily wiped out of your life.”
“Just the picture. Come on, now. We can do this. It’s exactly like shooting a baby. They can’t follow directions, so you have to work to get that millisecond of emotion in their expression. Like…that.” She snapped a few when Scarlett stopped moving. “In fact, hold her like a baby. And crouch down, then lean back.”
He did, flipping the dog in his arms with the ease of someone completely familiar with them. Beck stood over him and focused on Scarlett’s precious face. “There we go, little girl,” she cooed. “Look at me. Look at me. Look…” She centered the shot and took three in rapid-fire succession that were all gorgeous. “Sorry if you don’t agree, but I think you’re right where you belong. You just haven’t figured that out yet.”
He squinted up at her, but she didn’t look at him, too intent on getting Scarlett’s attention again. “For some reason, I like this place better after I’ve been gone for a while. Too much of a steady diet makes me uncomfortable, but yeah, I love the dogs. I love the concept. But I don’t—”
“That’s it!” She got the perfect shot and lowered her camera, easing herself down to his level to look at him. “You know, when I was first brought to Bitter Bark, I felt a lot of the same way. I loved my aunt and uncle, I appreciated that they made a home for us, and I could see that it was the greatest little town. But I didn’t belong here, not at all. So I squirmed until I got to Chicago, and then I made my own way. I found my passion, built a life, and figured out a way to belong. What could you do here that would make you feel that way and allow you to come and go frequently enough that you didn’t feel suffocated?”
“Fly.”
She inched back.
“That’s when I feel free. When I’m airborne.”
She looked hard at him. “Then get yourself a plane and…” She reached over to rub Scarlett’s head. “Fly these dogs to their homes.”
She actually heard him take in a soft breath, then he blinked at her. “Rebecca Spencer. I could kiss you.”
She smiled. “Don’t let one little Pommie in your arms stop you.”
He leaned close and put his mouth on hers, and instantly Ruff barked from a few feet away, tearing over to slam a paw between them. That sent little Scarlett into a frenzy of squirming and barking. And then out came a big black-and-white dog tearing across the grass like a kid who’d been told it was his turn to pose for the camera and he couldn’t wait.
They just laughed and shared a look that said, Later. But before it was gone, Beck took one more picture of Aidan in case she ever needed to remind him of what a man who belonged where he was actually looked like.