Chapter 13

Kelsey was out back watching Lucky and Pepper enjoy some time in separate runs when Patrick stepped out of the house onto the back porch.

“Hey, when did you get here?” she called as she headed over.

Patrick glanced at his watch. “Three minutes ago. Kurt said that if you’re able to help, I can go ahead and get the big shepherd mix out of his kennel. Kurt will join us when he’s finished. He’s on the front porch talking to an older man with a similar face shape. I think they’re related.”

Kelsey swallowed a giggle. “That’s his grandfather, but sure, I can help. These two guys are fine out here for a bit. What are you going to do with the shepherd mix today?”

She’d been only slightly surprised to find that Kurt had named the big shepherd Devil. The dog knew all the basics like sit and stay, and he seemed to respect people, even if he held no obvious regard for them. On the other hand, he’d already eaten through one kennel and had destroyed every chew toy he’d been given, even the most indestructible ones. And whether he was in his crate or out, he passed most of the day anxious and unsettled. He had zero tolerance for other dogs. All of that paled in comparison to how difficult it was to keep him on track during training sessions. When he was out of his crate, he always seemed to be searching for something that was just out of sight. Treats and affection were wasted on him. His only interests during his training sessions were in scent marking, snarling in the direction of other dogs, and searching the road for signs of who knew what.

“He doesn’t want to be here,” Patrick said as they headed inside. “Maybe none of them do, but none of them seem to feel as displaced as he does.”

“The poor guy has probably had it really rough.”

“Maybe.” But the way Patrick said the word, it seemed to imply maybe not more than maybe. “Appropriate name,” he added when he spied Kurt’s addition to the tape on Devil’s kennel designating him as red alpha seven.

Although the giant had given no indication that he would ever snap at a human, he was the only dog here being treated as a high-risk possibility. This meant rather than simply hooking a clip leash to his collar after his kennel door was opened, Kurt or Patrick needed to get the generally uncooperative dog to step into a slip—or noose—leash first. Once it was on and the dog proved to be calm, a regular clip leash was hooked to his collar and the self-tightening slip leash was removed.

From there, it was pretty much business as usual. Except that Devil had no interest in receiving their praise or in any of the reward toys the dogs were offered when they were well behaved, and only a mild interest in even the best of treats.

“What’s on the agenda for him today?” Kelsey asked a second time.

“Music.”

Kelsey pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth. She’d hoped for a better explanation but suspected she wouldn’t get it.

Rather than allowing Devil to drag him toward the front door, Patrick coaxed him out the back and down the rear porch steps to the grass farthest from the newly installed runs. Across the yard, Lucky barked several times, causing the long, fuzzy hair on Devil’s back and neck to spike high as he sniffed the air. He urinated a long, unending stream on the closest tree while staring the dogs down. Afterward, the massive dog seemed to dismiss both Lucky and Pepper as he turned his attention to the side of the house that had a rickety gate in the privacy fence.

Patrick asked him to sit, though he had to step between Devil and the gate to get his attention. On his third repeated command, Devil tucked in his massive haunches and sank into a sitting position, eyeing Patrick for a split second before stretching his head at an awkward angle to refocus on the gate.

“He has a very determined focus.”

Kelsey was considering whether she should comment on Patrick and Devil’s shared similarity when Patrick took out his phone, pulled up a playlist, and handed the phone to her. Kelsey frowned as Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline” burst from the speakers.

Sometimes back at the shelter, they played music for the dogs, but making music a part of one of these training sessions seemed too peculiar even for Patrick.

“I believe twenty seconds should be enough to get a reaction, assuming we’re going to get one, so I made a playlist with twenty-second recordings of a variety of songs. We’ll see if he reacts to any, or if he treats them all like white noise.”

After the “Sweet Caroline” snippet ended, a song Kelsey didn’t know but that would qualify as hard rock played, then a popular country song, then a piece of classical music, followed by a song by Kygo.

In Kelsey’s opinion, Devil seemed to ignore each of them equally. His interest was in the gate, though he was distracted for a few seconds by a small flock of birds taking off from a nearby tree. He paid little attention to Patrick or Kelsey, sinking back into a seated position only on repeated requests from Patrick, who rewarded him with a few nibbles of a savory treat.

It was on the tip of Kelsey’s tongue to ask what Patrick was hoping to get out of the song playing when a bluegrass song came on, and Devil looked pointedly at Patrick’s phone, his ears pricked forward.

“Bluegrass,” Patrick said aloud, shifting Devil’s leash to one hand and reaching for his phone. When it was over, he typed in “most popular bluegrass songs.”

When he began “Come All You Fair and Tender Ladies,” Devil cocked his head at the first plucks of the banjo. After a few seconds, he whined, then his gaze flicked from the phone to the gate and back again.

“It could be that his only interest in it is that it’s unusual,” Patrick said, letting the song play for a full minute before passing the phone back to her and letting it play out.

“Or?” Kelsey asked. Patrick clearly had a point to this. He just wasn’t making it clear to her.

“It seems to me there’s a reason he has no interest in connecting with us. Or any interest in teaming up with any of the other dogs. He doesn’t show it often, but he’s well trained. He’s unhappy and unsettled. And he lets that be known. Affection and praise are lost on him, but that doesn’t mean he’s never received it.”

Kelsey watched as Patrick sank to a squat, balancing on the balls of his feet. Although she wasn’t afraid of the cantankerous, massive animal, she felt enough caution around him that her back muscles tensed. With Patrick in a squat, it was obvious that Devil nearly matched him pound for pound.

Patrick extended his right hand. “Shake.” When Devil made no movement to acknowledge him, Patrick slipped a single, moist treat from his pocket and held it in his left hand. Devil took a whiff but ignored Patrick otherwise. “Shake, boy,” he repeated.

Almost absentmindedly, with his sharp brown eyes still fixed on the gate, Devil lifted his giant paw and dropped it into Patrick’s hand.

Patrick shook the paw, then lifted the treat within swiping distance of Devil’s quick tongue. “Good boy. Good, good boy.” Then, standing and directing his next words to Kelsey, Patrick said, “I don’t have the answer, but nothing about him fits. The music. The tricks. His discontent. He’s waiting for someone, and I want to find out who.”

“Someone who likes bluegrass?”

“Possibly.”

Devil’s microchip had never been registered and the vet who inserted it didn’t have his owner’s new contact information. Finding out who had owned this guy felt like an impossibility, but Kelsey did her best to never say never. In her seven years at the shelter, she’d seen the impossible happen more than once.

* * *

Thanks to the wind picking up and carrying the smell of rain, as soon as Kurt’s grandfather left, he and Kelsey dove into the evening feeding routine. If she’d been put out that he’d named the cranky giant Devil, she hadn’t commented. The tenacious dog was promising to give Kurt a run for his money when it came to retraining him. Thankfully, it looked like Patrick was going to be a huge help in figuring out the complicated animal.

Unlike the relaxed conversation he’d enjoyed with Kelsey this afternoon, tonight they worked in silence. Yesterday, she’d commented playfully that Kurt’s vocabulary all but eluded him while he was intently focused on the dogs. “I swear I can almost see the right side of your brain taking over,” she’d joked.

He hoped she attributed his quiet to that this afternoon. He tried to hone his usual focus, but it evaded him. He kept replaying his grandfather’s words, rehashing what he hadn’t been prepared to hear. Thankfully, he and Kelsey had worked out a seamless routine over the last several days, and she always seemed on top of her game.

They had finished feeding and giving each dog a short walk around the side of the house when the first crack of thunder rumbled across the sky. Zeus, the newly named Argentine mastiff, and Pepper were still in the runs, having a turn to stretch their legs. Zeus was barking and chasing every leaf that blew inside his fence. The Argentine mastiff’s all-white coat looked especially bright under the darkening skies. Pepper was standing at the gate of her run. She wanted to roam the yard, and probably to hang near Kurt and Kelsey, but Kurt wasn’t in the space today to introduce two dogs, even through a fence. And when he did, he wouldn’t start with a pregnant Rottweiler. He was positive by now that she was. Just a few days of good meals, and her belly was visibly rounding out.

As far as Zeus went, Kurt would put money down that the dog had never been fought. His tail wagged too damn much when other dogs passed his kennel. Tomorrow, Kelsey was going to bring Orzo, a laid-back corgi, and if Zeus did well, Kurt would step up his socializing, including taking him on walks off the property. A few of the other dogs seemed ready for the same thing. If the court order was no longer in place, Kurt was starting to feel hopeful that within a month, at least five or six in the group would be headed for the shelter. He suspected the rest would take a while longer. A part of him worried that a few, like Devil, might never be ready to live as a pet in someone’s home. There were options for dogs like this, but Kurt wasn’t ready to spend time thinking of them. For now, he was committed to optimism.

To accomplish this, he’d turned one of the bedrooms into a private training room, and whenever things were slow, he’d head in there with one of the dogs. Instilling basic training in these animals was essential, and it went so much deeper than sit or stay. But he was becoming confident they’d get there.

A brilliant flash of lightning danced across the sky. Kurt could feel the electricity in the air, circling over his bare arms and neck. “I think it’s time we get them in.”

“Agreed.” Kelsey set a fresh bowl of water in Pepper’s kennel and followed Kurt down the back porch into the yard. Seeing them headed his way, Zeus made a move that looked an awful lot like a bucking bronco, then plunged toward the door of his run. The gangly dog skidded into seated attention, stopping just shy of slamming into the door.

Kelsey laughed. “I can almost imagine him finding his place in a circus.” She headed for Pepper’s run but waited for Kurt to head inside first with Zeus.

She was latching Pepper’s kennel door when Kurt stepped out of the house and joined her in the enclosed half of the porch.

“I’ve been a fan of thunderstorms since I was a kid, and I can confidently say that I don’t ever again want to live too long in a place that doesn’t get its fair share.”

“Where were you stationed?” Kelsey asked, joining him in front of the floor-to-ceiling screen.

The wind was picking up, and he could hear the rain pelting in the west. In the distance, he spotted the deluge headed their way. “Look, you can see the rain rolling in.” He fell quiet, watching it rush toward them at an angle. “Afghanistan mostly,” he said finally, responding to her question. “Texas with the army at first. I finished out in Central America. There, most of the time it’s like the rains are ruled by a light switch. It’s either raining heavily, or it isn’t but feels like it just did.”

“It would be cool to see more of the world, but I agree about thunderstorms. I’m a sucker for changing seasons.” A fresh blast of wind circled across the porch, lifting Kelsey’s hair off her shoulders. She shuddered. “I hope Mr. Longtail found his way inside.”

“I just saw him. He’s sprawled across the kitchen counter.” Unfazed by the storm, Pepper was curling into a ball to sleep. Her kennel was far enough from the screen to stay dry.

The circling winds stirred up Kelsey’s citrus-mint scent. Kurt resisted the urge to pull her close and breathe her in until he was sufficiently calm inside. Instead, he tucked his hands into his back pockets, palms facing out.

“So,” she said while he was still trying to block out her intoxicating smell, “I may not have known you long, but I’d bet a million dollars that you’re not the gabby type. However, I want you to know that I’m here if it would help to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you.”

Kurt pulled his attention from the storm to look at her. It had been a long time since he’d met someone who could read him so easily. It had also been a long time since he’d brushed his lips against lips like hers, full and sexy and moist. And those eyes. They were the rich, soft brown of amber and just as inviting, and the lashes framing them were thick and long and sultry.

He swallowed hard. The energy of the storm matched the energy building inside him. Rain and bits of hail began to hammer the roof. The pretend box deep inside him where he locked things away seemed to have the lid stuck open. He realized it was kiss her or tell her everything, or quite possibly both. Coming here, he’d been so damned committed to keeping her at a distance. Could that possibly have been less than a week ago?

Dragging a hand through his hair and putting some necessary distance between them, he strode the length of the porch. When he returned, he made sure to stop a full arm’s length away.

“Turns out my mother went in for her first ever mammogram a month ago. They found a lump. Apparently not a nasty one, at least,” he added at Kelsey’s gasp. “She and my grandfather have spent the last few weeks working out a plan. They’d decided on doing the treatments here in St. Louis even before I took this job. The only really good hospital down at the post is military and, not having been in service herself, my mother doesn’t have access to it.”

A flash of lightning lit the darkened porch, and a clap of thunder filled his ears. Kelsey folded her arms across her chest. Kurt got the feeling she wanted to touch him as much as a part of him wanted her to.

“I never would have guessed,” she said when the thunder quieted. The rain was coming in slanted, forcing them both to step back from the screen. “She looked so happy this morning. That’s good though, right? You said it’s not one of the bad types. Maybe she’s not that worried.”

“My mother’s never been one to worry about anything. Or at least she’s never been one to show it. It’s my grandfather who’s taking it hard, even if he denies it. I guess you wouldn’t expect any different, considering he lost his wife a couple months ago.”

Kelsey nodded sympathetically and folded her arms tighter over her chest after a strong blast of cold wind swept across the porch. “I don’t know if it helps, but several of our shelter volunteers are breast cancer survivors. I walk with them every summer in a breast-cancer-awareness walk downtown. I’m not trying to downplay it, but from what they say, massive strides have been made in breast cancer recovery the last ten or fifteen years. Where’s she getting treatment?”

“Siteman Cancer Center. Based on the conversation with the surgeon this morning, they’ve decided not to go through with a full mastectomy. Ten years ago, it probably would have been recommended. From what my grandfather said, a whole team of people made the recommendation, but today she only saw the surgeon. He recommended she have a lumpectomy followed by radiation. Based on the biopsy, it looks like she won’t need chemo. Thank God she won’t have to deal with that.”

Overhead, the rain that had been pounding on the roof of the porch abruptly slowed to gentle tapping, and the wind dropped as brusquely as it had begun.

“It’s not exactly the Hyatt, but now that you’ve fixed the stairs, the bedrooms are easily accessible,” Kelsey said. “If they don’t want to deal with that drive while she’s recuperating, I can ask Megan if it’d be okay if they stay here.”

“Thanks for the offer. They’re talking about renting a place close to the hospital, which would suit her better. As cool as she thought the house was, she freaks if she spots a spider indoors.” He shrugged, shaking his head. “I’m not kidding. It’s her thing. But don’t be surprised if my grandfather makes himself useful around here.”

“Then he’s good with dogs too?”

Kurt let out a small laugh. “No, for a reason I’ve never figured out, he’s kind of anti-pet. I meant with the house. He always says if he hadn’t stayed in the army, he’d have become a carpenter. He joined Habitat for Humanity when I was in high school because he’d run out of things to repair in our house. He’d have a heyday here.”

“Well, he certainly couldn’t hurt anything if you want to give him that tool belt of yours and free range of the house.”

“No, he couldn’t, could he?”

“It’d probably be good for him too, considering…” Kelsey said, her voice trailing off as she looked out to the west where the cloud cover was thinning and the setting sun was poking through. “Seems like it’s clearing. And we’re ahead of schedule. Maybe we could take an hour or two off. The dogs will be good for a while. Earlier, you said your trips with your family to St. Louis were mostly limited to the Arch, the zoo, and the City Museum. Those are amazing, of course, but there’s so much more to show you. We’re a city of fantastic little neighborhoods like this one here in South City. I could give you a tour of the area, and we could grab something to eat afterward.”

It was probably because of what he’d just shared, but she was offering to spend a considerable amount of time with him. Without the dogs. He needed to say no and send her home. Give her a night off. He could get lost in the dogs and the one-on-one training each one needed. If he accepted her offer, he’d be letting her in even more when he’d promised himself he wouldn’t. He was searching for a polite way to say no when an insanely close blast of lightning struck, reminding him that some of the biggest strikes were often at the tail end of a storm. Before the flash of brilliant white dissipated, the kitchen and hall lights visible through the windows went out simultaneously.

He huffed. “I guess there’s no working with the dogs in the dark, is there?” he said when the accompanying boom quieted.

“No, but with any luck, Hodak’s won’t have lost power. Since I’ve absolutely blown my diet this week, I might as well introduce you to the place. It’s the best fried chicken in the city, and it’s within walking distance.”

Kurt smiled, feeling the tension he’d been holding in since talking to his grandfather start to lift. “Somehow, you’re reading my mind. Fried chicken and thunderstorms were two of my biggest must-haves on coming home.”

She waved him off, smiling playfully. “You’re from the Midwest. Chances are slim that fried chicken wouldn’t be high on your list.”

“Probably so. Hey, I know it’s your tour and all, but are you good with taking the Mustang?”

Kelsey clicked her tongue. “This is going to be a walking tour, Staff Sergeant Crawford.”

“What happens if it storms again?”

She shrugged. “Then you’ll have to find us suitable cover. All those years of service, I’m betting you’re a real-life MacGyver. That was duct tape you were using earlier, after all.”

He laughed and savored the warmth filling him. “Watch it, or I’ll strap on that tool belt before we go.”