Animal Prints: Sweet Small Town Contemporary Romance (Michigan Moonlight Book 1) (2 page)

“No, I…” She focused on a path that emerged from the trees. “Here comes my last patient of the day. Oh, boy. I see Mrs. Connelly has her grandson’s dog as well.” Colette pointed to an older woman on a bicycle slowly moving toward them on a dirt path. She had a Yorkie tucked in a baby carrier strapped to her chest while an Irish setter ran alongside on a long tether.

“Which is the grandson’s?”

“The setter. He’s only about a year old and pretty rambunctious.” The dog ran in front of the bicycle, nearly toppling Mrs. Connelly and the little dog.

Ian started forward to help the woman, but she got the animal under control. ”The grandson or the dog?” He asked, keeping an eye on their progress.

“The dog.” Colette laughed, then sobered. “Her grandson shipped out to Afghanistan last month. I don’t know how she’s going to manage Semper Fi for a year.”

“Nice of her to try,” Ian commented. Deployed marines deserved as much support as they could get both now and when they returned. Wasn’t that why he was here? So he could get the capital to publish his book and tell the stories of his fellow veterans? “I’m guessing her grandson’s a U.S. Marine?”

“Uh-huh. How did you know?”

“The name’s a giveaway. You know—always faithful.”

“Mrs. Connelly pretty much raised her grandson,” she said. “I don’t think she was too thrilled when he enlisted, but she’s trying to support his decision. For now, that means keeping Semper.”
 

“Her grandson’s lucky to have her.” Luckier than he’d been when he’d joined the army a decade ago. His father refused to acknowledge him for years. Until recently, that was, when the old man gave him the chance to negotiate this deal with the Petersons. A nagging suspicion of his father’s motives tugged at him, but what the hell. For once, his father’s plans and his were in agreement; he wanted the commission from the deal to start his post-army life. If he could reconcile with his father in the process, that was a bonus.

“I see Semper’s in a mood to cause trouble today,” Colette said as the trio slowed just outside the tent. Romeo slunk behind Colette taking refuge under her temporary exam table as Semper ran circles around the now stopped bicycle, wrapping Mrs. Connelly and the Yorkie in the long leash.

“Semper. Semper, stop. Sit,” Mrs. Connelly commanded the red dog, but he continued to dance around her, further entangling her in the leash. Colette moved forward to nab the setter. Before she could reach him, Semper made a sudden leap, unseating Mrs. Connelly and making the Yorkie yip wildly. The setter bounded into the nearest stand of trees, dragging his leash behind him. The bike crashed to the ground.

Ian shrugged out of his backpack, put his camera on top of his gear and dashed after the dog. As he ran past Mrs. Connelly, Colette was helping the older woman to her feet. He thought he heard Colette call to him, but he had a visual on Semper and didn’t want to hesitate. He’d hate to see some kid in the marines lose his dog while he was overseas.
 

Plus, capturing the dog gave him a chance to talk to Colette more. Something he both needed and wanted to do, even if he had to run down a fast moving dog to accomplish his mission.

Colette glanced toward the woods where Ian disappeared while she examined the Yorkie. The little guy was still breathing heavily from the incident. She smoothed her fingers over his head, calming him. She felt jittery herself, but not from the same source. She stole another look in the direction Ian had disappeared. So far, no Ian and no Semper. The dog would come back eventually. She was more concerned about the man. Concerned might be the wrong word. Interested was better.
 

Of course, in her experience, good men always ran off. At least Ian looked good while running. It was the bad ones who stuck around, caused trouble, then took off anyway.
 

She gave the little dog a treat after his shots and returned him to Mrs. Connelly, who sat in a lawn chair in the late afternoon sun, recovering from her fall.

“Not from around here?” Mrs. Connelly ruffled the dog’s fur.

“Who?”

“The young man chasing Semper. Anyone from the island would know that he’ll come back.”

“Visiting for the day he said.” Too bad, but she was only here for the weekend herself. Late tomorrow, she’d take the three hour drive home to Petoskey. What was she thinking? Had it been that long since she’d talked to an attractive man? Yes, she admitted to herself, way too long.
 

“He’s going to get a souvenir from Grand Island.”

“You giving him Semper?” Colette sat down in the chair next to Mrs. Connelly.

“Tempting, but no. He’s going to have a terrible case of poison ivy. I saw it when I was walking though those woods the other day.” The ferry horn blasted from the dock at the bottom of the slope, and the boat pulled into Lake Superior for the short ride to the mainland. “And that’s the last ferry of the day. He’s going to be stuck and itchy.”

Out of habit, Colette checked her watch, but she knew Mrs. Connelly was right about the ferry. If Ian had come to the island as a day tourist, now he was stranded. Grand Island was a great place to visit, but it didn’t offer much in the way of amenities for visitors. No hotels, no accommodations for overnight stays of any kind. He seemed like the type of man who could fend for himself when necessary, but she hated to see anyone in such a tight spot.
 

“Maybe someone on the island can put him up. I’ll make some calls.” Colette pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. The least she could do was find him a place to stay for the night.

The setter’s bark alerted them a second before Ian came out of the woods with Semper on the leash. His running shorts revealed muscular legs that quivered with each stride, making her experience a little burst of lust. Ian ruffled the dog’s ears as they walked along. When he saw Colette, he flashed her a smile and pointed at the dog.
 

“I’d invite him to my place, but I’m still in the middle of that kitchen re-do,” Mrs. Connelly said. “I have a microwave and a mini-fridge. Man like that needs a better meal. You should give him a place to stay at your cottage. Might liven up your weekend.” The older lady nudged Colette with her elbow.
 

“I don’t think so.” Colette scanned through her contacts looking for an island resident who might take a houseguest on short notice. Her family’s cottage could house twenty people, but taking in a stranger wasn’t in her plans for the weekend. Even if he was above average handsome. She rolled her eyes thinking about what her family would say if she offered to take him in.
 

“I thought you might be on the market for a man. Your sister’s been married almost ten years now, hasn’t she?”

“Lexy’s five years older than I am,” Colette said in a light tone, but Mrs. Connelly’s teasing struck a nerve. She wasn’t jealous of her sister, but in a lot of ways she wanted what her sister had—a husband and kids in a happy home. She had a beautiful home, but no one to share it.
 

“I guess that means you’re five years behind. Besides I’ve never known you to pass up a stray of any kind. And he’s definitely better looking than that mangy cat you used to haul everywhere when you were a kid.”

“You could say that.” With his dark, slightly tousled hair, cool gray eyes and the rangy, muscular build accentuated by the tight-fitting t-shirt, he was definitely better looking than Inky, her multi-colored scrawny cat from long ago. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing to have a guest for the night, especially one who appeared to be an animal lover. Without thinking, she found herself giving him a welcoming smile as he approached the sunshade, the cell phone in her hand forgotten when he caught her eye and grinned.

“Thank you, young man, for chasing my runaway.” Mrs. Connelly reached out to pet the dog’s head. “Semper can be naughty, but I promised my grandson I’d care for him.”

“Dr. Peterson here said your grandson’s just deployed to Afghanistan.”

“Oh, yes.” Her mouth twitched down, her petting hesitant.

“Have you heard from him?”

“I’ve talked to him a couple times on Facebook. I still miss him like hell.”

“I bet he misses you too. It can be tough over there.” Ian put his hands on his hips, his voice suddenly a notch deeper, authoritative.

“Sounds like you’ve had experience with that,” Mrs. Connelly said. “Collie, don’t you have some calls to make?”
 

“Right.” Colette still held the phone in her hand. At the reminder, she hit send for the Mitford cottage and listened to the phone ring. If someone had answered, she probably wouldn’t have been able to formulate a sentence. She was too busy listening to Ian and Mrs. Connelly’s conversation.

“Yes, ma’am. I did two tours in Iraq. Having someone at home who cares matters more than anything to the troops.” Semper lay down at Ian’s feet, resting his shaggy red head on Ian’s shoe.

“No answer at the Mitford’s,” Colette managed to say. “Maybe the Maclean’s?”

“Whole clan’s here this weekend,” Mrs. Connelly explained. “They won’t have any room.”

“Room for what?” Ian asked.

“You.” Colette gave him a smile as she broke the news, pointing the phone at him. “The last ferry of the day left while you were chasing Semper.”

“I thought there was another one at seven?” Ian checked his watch.

“Not until next week. June’s early in the season this far north.”

“I’ll get a hotel room then.”

“No hotels or inns on the island.”

“What?”

“Give me a minute. I’ll make a few more calls.” Colette dialed the private charter service that ran people to the mainland, but they were booked for the evening. Next she tried the Radissons. Their nine grandchildren were visiting for the weekend. Colette had seen those kids in action. She couldn’t subject a man kind enough to chase Semper to their antics.
 

“I’ll figure something out. Please don’t fuss over me.” Ian caught her in between phone calls, laying a hand on her arm briefly. A little ripple passed through her. Excitement? Nerves? She tamped down on the giggle rising up in her throat and stepped away from him. She didn’t meet his eyes. While the shadows lengthened, she dialed two more residents; her calls picked up by answering machines.

Mrs. Connelly climbed out of her chair. She seemed reluctant to go like she was watching an entertaining show, but she tucked the Yorkie back into the carrier and took Semper’s leash from Ian. “I’ll take my troublemaker home. Semper doesn’t need any shots. I was trying to wear him out by bringing him with me. Guess it worked.” Mrs. Connelly tossed a leg over the bicycle’s seat. “Thanks again for catching Semper. Collie will find you a place for the night. Oh, and I suggest lye soap on your legs. I think it works best. Thanks, Collie,” Mrs. Connelly called over her shoulder and rode up the slope.

“Lye soap?” Ian turned to Colette with one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, you may have gone through some poison ivy over there.” She pointed at the trail veering into the woods while dialing her last hope of a room for Ian without taking him in herself. “Did you see any?”

“I was busy watching the dog. I didn’t pay attention.” Ian looked down at his legs. “Why is it when anyone even suggests poison ivy I feel itchy? Does lye soap work?”

“Any strong soap will help prevent it from spreading. One second.” Colette held up her hand as Mrs. Pritchard answered, happy for the distraction so she wouldn’t continue to stare at Ian’s tanned muscles. After a brief conversation, Collie clicked the phone shut and gave Ian a small, troubled smile. The Pritchard’s cottage had a major plumbing problem.
 

“Guess you’re staying with me for the night,” she sighed.