Angel's Rest (5 page)

Gabe frowned at the dog, then stepped outside, careful to block the boxer from scooting past him until the door was safely shut. “What’s the deal, dog? Did you slip your leash and run away?”

He didn’t see the vet or anyone else. Ordinarily Eagle’s Way’s serious security safeguards would prevent drop-in visitors, but for the past eight years Gabe preferred to leave gates and locks open whenever possible, no matter where he was. Memories of the six months he’d spent as a … guest … in an Eastern European prison were hard to shake, so he initiated Eagle’s Way’s security system at night but left the place accessible during the day. The vet could have driven right up to the house if she’d wanted, but the drive was empty. She must have parked in the circular drive in front. She’d probably ring the bell any moment now.

Gabe turned to reenter the house. This time the boxer was ready. A brindle blur all but knocked Gabe down as he dashed inside, through the kitchen, and into the hallway, headed for the great room. Gabe muttered a curse
and took a quick mental inventory to determine what might be at risk of destruction as he trailed after the dog, wincing at the thought of the crystal collection on the coffee table—exactly at crooked-tail height.

“Hey!” he called as he hurried after the dog. “Stop. Stay. Sit.”

He might as well have said “Sing ‘The Star-Spangled Banner’ ” for all the good that did. Luckily, the dog made it across the room without destroying anything, and after a quick sniff he curled up on the rug in front of the fireplace.

“Well, make yourself at home, why don’t you?” Gabe muttered as he crossed to the front door. He stared out at the circular drive where he expected to see a car—but didn’t. There wasn’t a car or truck or any vehicle of any type in sight.

Gabe’s frown deepened as he stepped out onto the front porch. No car by the garage, either. “Hello?” he called. “Dr. Sullivan?”

Nothing. Nada. No one.

Reentering the house, he braced his hands on his hips and stared at the boxer. “You did not come all the way up here by yourself.”

The dog exhaled a loud, snorty sigh. His tail thumped twice against the rug, and a stray thought sneaked past Gabe’s barriers. Matty would have loved him.

Daddy, can I have a dog? Please? Pretty please?

Gabe gave himself a shake, then grimly said, “Well, it doesn’t matter how you got up here. You are not staying here.”

The tail thumped three times. Otherwise the dog didn’t move so much as a whisker. In fact, he looked as if he’d be content to lie by the fire all winter. “Not hardly,” Gabe muttered.

Well, he
was
headed to town anyway. A quick stop by the vet’s to dump the dog wouldn’t be a big deal.

Gabe grabbed his car keys from a nearby table and jangled them. “You want to go for a ride?”

One floppy brown ear perked up inside the silly white cone.

Gabe jangled the keys again. Both ears perked. Gabe tried to recall if he’d seen a dog leash anywhere in Eagle’s Way. Maybe in the mud room?

When he returned to the great room with a leash in hand, the boxer leapt to his feet. After fastening the leash to the leather collar and adjusting the white plastic cone, Gabe led him to the garage and helped him climb up into the Jeep. He and the boxer headed into town.

Again.

Nic gave her reflection in the bathroom mirror one last look and wished she’d splurged on a new shade of lipstick for her date tonight. She’d worn a bronze shade for years. This was a new life. A new man. She should have a new lipstick.

“Too late now,” she told her reflection. “He’ll be here in ten minutes.”

As Nic made her way downstairs, she admitted that referring to Bob Gerard as a “new man” was a stretch, since this was to be their first date and she’d only met Bob four days ago. He was part of the mayor’s plan D, a business consultant from Colorado Springs whom Hank Townsend had brought to town to identify any options for saving Eternity Springs they might have overlooked.

Bob had flirted with Nic from the moment they met during a “business leader” luncheon at the Bristlecone. When he called that night to chat, her first instinct had been to brush him off the same way she had every other man since Greg Sullivan broke her heart. Then she’d recalled Celeste’s speech at the high school about prisons of the past and she’d taken the leap, dusting off her own rusty flirting skills. Bob didn’t seem to mind her awkwardness. When a conversation about hunting led to his admission that he’d never tried game meats, she’d
screwed up her courage and invited him to dinner for the specialty of her house—roast venison.

For this casual evening at home, she’d chosen to wear black slacks and an aquamarine V-neck cashmere sweater that Lori and Sarah claimed did wonders for her eyes. Nic just hoped she could get through dinner without spilling anything on it. She’d about ruined the oxford shirt she’d worn while preparing the meal—despite wearing an apron at the time. “I’m not nervous,” she said aloud. “I’m not.”

When the doorbell rang, she startled. No, not nervous at all.

She put a smile on her face and opened the door, saying, “You’re right on time … oh. Mr. Callahan.”

Gabe Callahan stood on her front porch, the boxer he’d rescued up on Murphy Mountain at his side. “You knew I’d bring him back?”

“No. Not you. I thought you were someone else.” She frowned down at the dog and said, “Why is the boxer with you? Is Celeste okay?”

“Who is Celeste?”

Without warning, the dog yanked the leash from Gabe’s hand and darted past Nic and into her home just as her telephone started ringing. Flustered, she said, “I’m sorry. Let me get that. Please come in.”

Her home was a standard Victorian design with two rooms on either side off a large entry hall with the staircase to the second-floor bedrooms at its center, a narrow kitchen stretching the width of the house at the back. The closest phone sat on a table at the back of the center hall, toward the kitchen. The boxer disappeared into the cozy library, where Nic spent most of her time and where she’d set a small table for two. Her unexpected guest followed the dog.

She grabbed the phone on the fourth ring without bothering to check the caller ID. “Hello?”

“Nic, hi. It’s Bob. Look, I’m not going to be able to make it tonight. I’m on my way home now. Had an emergency.”

She waited for her stomach to sink in disappointment. To her surprise, all she felt was relief. “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope it’s nothing too serious.”

“My son had an accident on his four-wheeler. Broke his arm and a leg. My wife is frantic, and frankly, so am I. Do you know how long it’s gonna take me to get home? This town of yours is way too isolated.”

“Excuse me?” Nic’s heart began to pound. “Did you just say ‘my wife’?”

“Oh. Well …”

Her blood began to boil. “You weren’t wearing a wedding ring.”

“Yeah. Well …”

“You sorry, lowlife jerk. You flirted with me from hello. I can’t believe you … Listen. You can take your ‘consulting’ and shove it. We don’t want your kind in our town.” She started to slam the phone down, froze, and brought it back to her ear. “I hope your son is okay.”

After that, she did slam the receiver into its cradle. She stood staring at it, her hands on her hips, breathing hard. Anger coursed through her blood. “What is it with men? Are they totally incapable of faithfulness?”

“Depends. It’s a character issue more than a sexual one.”

Nic closed her eyes in embarrassment and swallowed a groan. She’d forgotten about her visitor. Lovely. Just lovely.

“I seem to find only the characters without character. Oh well.” She shrugged and shook off her discomfort. “Talk to me about the dog.”

Gabe glanced at the boxer, who lay curled on a rug in
front of the fireplace. “He came scratching at my door a little while ago, and I’m bringing him back to you.”

“He scratched at the door of your Jeep?”

“No. He scratched at the kitchen door at Eagle’s Way.”

“How did he get up there?”

“I thought you brought him.”

“No.” Nic shook her head. “I can’t keep strays that come to me. It’s one of my few hard-and-fast rules, otherwise I’d be overrun with pets. The boxer is on a week-long get-to-know-you visit with Celeste Blessing, who I hope will agree to adopt him. She lives in the big yellow Victorian on the east bank of Angel Creek.”

“That’s a long way from Murphy Mountain.”

She nodded, then tilted her head and studied him, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Did he really show up at Eagle’s Way?”

One side of Gabe’s mouth lifted in a self-mocking smile, and he raised his hands palms out. “Hey, I have no reason to lie. I’m not married, and I’m not trying to date you.”

“Ouch,” she muttered, embarrassed at the reminder of what he’d overheard. “I need to call and check on Celeste. Would you keep an eye on Tiger for me, please? The way my luck is running, he’ll decide to sample the meat I have resting on the kitchen counter.”

“Tiger?”

She gestured vaguely toward the dog. “My name for him. It’s his brindle coat, the black stripes on brown. Makes me think of tiger stripes.”

Nic lifted the phone and dialed Celeste’s number, conscious of the quickening in her pulse as she imagined all sorts of disasters that could have happened to her elderly friend. When Celeste said “Hello” following the third ring, Nic exhaled a relieved breath. “Hi, Celeste, it’s Nic. I’m calling about the boxer.”

“Ah … I take it he’s found his way home?”

Nic gave Gabe Callahan a sidelong look and responded, “In a manner of speaking. He’s here with me now. What happened?”

“Well, we were outside enjoying the sunshine when Archibald walked over, climbed up on my lap, licked my face, then trotted off. He obviously had somewhere to go, so I wasn’t worried about him.”

“Archibald?” Nic repeated, not certain she and Celeste were on the same wavelength. “We’re talking about the boxer, right?”

“Yes, well, he needs a name, and that seemed to fit.”

In what universe, Nic couldn’t guess. “What time was this?”

“Oh, this morning sometime.”

“And you weren’t concerned when he didn’t come back?”

“No, dear. Archibald is a sweetheart of a dog, but I’m not meant to be his companion. He and I both know that. We had quite a talk about it.”

Nic decided then and there that it was time to take Celeste into Gunnison for a thorough medical checkup. She wasn’t a dotty-old-dear type at all. Concerned, Nic asked, “Are you feeling all right, Celeste? Any unusual aches or pains?”

“I’m fine, dear. In fact, I’m just about to take a quick spin on my Honda. It’s a beautiful evening, and this time of year, each one we have is a heavenly gift. You should make a point of enjoying yourself, too. I recall that this is a difficult day for you.”

“Yes, well …” Nic glanced toward Gabe and saw that he was perusing the offerings on her bookshelves. The boxer hadn’t budged from his position in front of the fire. “Maybe Archibald will help me pass the time. Drive safely, Celeste. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

She ended the call and joined her visitors in the library.
Gabe arched a brow her way and repeated, “Archibald? That’s worse than Tiger.”

“What have you been calling him?”

Gabe glanced down at the dog and shook his head. “I don’t name things I don’t intend to keep.”

She spared him a scolding look before turning her attention to the dog. Since he didn’t seem interested in coming to her, she crossed the room and knelt beside him. “All right, Tiger. Let’s give you a quick once-over to see how you fared on today’s trek. Hmm … no new scratches or scrapes that I can tell. And, actually, these stitches can come out. How about it, handsome? You ready to ditch the collar?”

As she unfastened the Elizabethan collar’s plastic tabs, she glanced up at Gabe. “I have a yellow canvas bag hanging on a chair in the kitchen. Would you grab it for me, please? It’s the room at the far end of the entry hall.”

“Sure.” When he handed the bag over a few moments later, he said, “I see why you wanted to keep the dog out of the kitchen. Something smells awfully tempting.”

“It’s my specialty. Pistachio-and-pine-nut-crusted rack of venison with wild mushrooms.” As she removed the stitches from the boxer’s leg, she said, “Why don’t you stay and share my supper, Mr. Callahan? I have plenty, and everything is ready.”

He glanced toward the table set for two. “Oh … uh … thanks, but I don’t think so.”

“Why not? You have to eat, and it’s not like I’m trying to date you, either.”

His stare shifted toward the kitchen, and she thought she saw a flash of regret in his eyes before he shook his head. “I thought I’d drop by the Bristlecone Café. I’ve heard the food is excellent.”

“It’s wonderful and you definitely need to try it, but it
won’t be tonight. It’s Tuesday. The Bristlecone is closed on Tuesdays.”

“Oh, well …”

His obvious reluctance began to annoy her. “Are you a vegetarian? Don’t care for game? If that’s it, you really should try my venison. I promise you’ll change your mind.”

“Dr. Sullivan—”

“Nic.”

“I’m Gabe. I appreciate the invitation. Your venison sounds and smells delicious, but I’m not much company.”