Sweet Tomorrows (7 page)

I continued with my morning runs, avoiding the house on Bethel Street for the first few days. Another encounter with Nick Schwartz wasn't something I welcomed. Seeing how adamant he was, I had no wish to trespass on his land. I'll admit, though, I missed seeing Elvis.

On Thursday before the Fourth, out of the blue, I decided to deviate from my newly established route and run past the house. I had no reason to do so, no excuse other than the fact I wanted to see it again—one last look, because there was no need to torture myself with something I couldn't have.

As I rounded the corner of Bethel and the house and orchard came into view, I saw Elvis lying on the concrete walkway that led to the front porch. As soon as he spied me, he stood and walked to the edge of the property, sticking his nose through the fence slats.

I couldn't ignore this precious dog, even at the risk of butting heads with his owner.

Pausing, I leaned forward and placed my hands on my knees while I caught my breath. “Morning, Elvis.”

He wagged his tail as if he was genuinely pleased to see me.

“I've missed you.”

The screen door opened and Nick Schwartz stepped onto the porch and into the shadows and glared at me. It was almost as if he was daring me to set foot on his property. I had to admit he was an imposing figure, dressed in a tight white T-shirt and blue jeans. He stood with his legs braced apart and his arms crossed. I couldn't help noticing the bulging muscles of his upper arms. He didn't look like the sort of man who worked out in a gym, which led me to believe he toned those perfect biceps with the renovation work he did on the house.

“I'm not trespassing,” I called out. “This is a public sidewalk.” Giving Elvis one last pat on the head, I slowly straightened. “I'll be moving along now.” I waved and continued on down the street, but not before I saw Mr. Dickhead give a hint of a smile. I probably shouldn't call him that, knowing what I do about him and his brother. But I couldn't help myself; he infuriated me and at the same time intrigued me.

My nature isn't confrontational, so I went on my merry way as if nothing had happened, all the while stewing on the inside.

The farther I got from Bethel, the more disgruntled I became, only now my anger was directed at myself.

Why in the name of all that's holy had I even spoken to him? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Then I had to go and do something equally asinine and wave to him as if we were friendly neighbors, which we most certainly were not!

I can be such an idiot
.

That settled it. I renewed my resolve. Not only wasn't I running past the house again, I was staying completely off Bethel Street from this point forward.

Early on the morning of the Fourth of July, Jo Marie left the inn for Seattle and the cousins' reunion. I served breakfast to the older couple, who had family plans for the day. They checked out mid-morning and headed to a cabin they had rented on Hood Canal to meet up with their daughter and grandchildren. Rover and I had the house blissfully to ourselves.

My mother wasn't happy with me staying in Cedar Cove and missing out on the family gathering.

“I wanted you to meet Fred,” she'd insisted. “I made all these arrangements and now you tell me you aren't coming.”

“Mom, I told you that last week,” I'd reminded her.

Her lingering sigh said it all. “Fred is going to be disappointed.”

Fred, if this was the Fred I remembered, was undoubtedly as eager to escape this matchmaking effort as I was. He was forty and lived with his mother. Enough said. I was fairly certain he was no more interested in dating me than I was in a romantic relationship with him.

“I don't know why you're doing this, Emily. It's like you've given up on life,” Mom protested, as though her words were a wake-up call for me to fall, unresisting, into her plans. “You're overreacting; lots of women are in your situation…”

“Mom, please…don't.” I didn't want this to turn into another one of her heart-to-heart chats with me. As much as I loved my family, I didn't want to hear it.

My mother was wrong. I hadn't given up on life; what no longer interested me was risking my heart by falling in love. Those wounds cut deep, but there were other, bigger obstacles and my mother seemed to discount them.

I wouldn't make that mistake again. The pain involved when the truth came out as the relationship deepened was more than I could face a third time. I couldn't bear to go through it again; it wasn't worth the emotional agony. I had a new plan for the future, and while I would have liked to share my life with a husband, it wasn't in the cards for me. I'd accepted that and was content.

The neighborhood kids started setting off fireworks at about three in the afternoon. I had never been a fan of fireworks. In my humble opinion they should be left to the professionals. The newspapers and airwaves were filled with dire warnings regarding fire danger and safety hazards.

It was fortunate that the city of Cedar Cove put on its own display, and I had the perfect location for a spectacular view. I'd invited Jo Marie's friend Dana and her family to join me, but they had other plans with her husband's sister's family. Basically, it was just Rover and me, which was fine.

Because it didn't get dark in the Pacific Northwest until nearly ten at night, I sat out on the deck with a glass of iced tea. Rover was snoozing contentedly at my side as I propped my feet up and focused on my e-reader. I must have dozed off, because I heard the phone in the distance.

Dropping my legs, I raced into the house and Jo Marie's office.

“Rose Harbor Inn.”

“You got a dog named Rover?” a gruff male voice asked.

“Y-e-s. Why do you want to know?”

“ 'Cause he's here.”

He didn't mention where
here
was. Not that it mattered, because I knew otherwise.

“No, he isn't. He's on the porch with me.”

“You might want to check that out, lady.”

“Okay, I will.” I wasn't willing to take a stranger's word for it. “Give me a minute.” Seeing that Rover was a common dog name, there had to be more than one in the vicinity, although why the man had the phone number to the inn remained a mystery.

I hurried out to the porch where I'd last seen Rover, and after a frantic search I had to accept he wasn't there. In fact, he wasn't anywhere that I could see. I swallowed hard as a sense of panic filled me. The fireworks must have frightened him. If I lost Rover, Jo Marie would be devastated. She doted on that dog; the two were inseparable. She'd entrusted me with caring for him. I couldn't let her down.

Racing back into the house, I grabbed the phone. “He isn't here,” I blurted out.

“I know, lady, because he's here.”

“Where are you?”

“Harbor Street at a place called A Horse with No Name.”

The biker bar. Rover had roamed that far from the inn?

“If I were you, I'd hurry.”

“Is he hurt?” I asked, doing my best to sound calm, although my heart was racing frantically.

“He's drunk.”

“Drunk?”

“The guys here are feeding him beer.”

I gasped. “Oh no, I'll be there as quick as I can.”

The gruff-voiced man on the other end of the line laughed. “I thought that might be the case.”

As soon as I disconnected, I grabbed my car keys and raced out of the inn, stopping only long enough to make sure all the doors were locked. The last thing I wanted was for someone to break in and rob the place while I was away.

Because of the fireworks display on the waterfront, getting out of the downtown area was a hassle; traffic was a mess. I'd worked in the Seattle area, where snarled traffic was a way of life. It generally didn't bother me. It did now. I wouldn't rest easy until I had Rover back at the inn and sobered up.

A Horse with No Name tavern was a run-down shack on the outskirts of town. A long row of motorcycles was lined up in neat formation out front. I parked on the side of the tavern among several other cars, then squared my shoulders and walked into the bar.

I found the large open room filled with burly men in leather vests. Music blared from the jukebox loud enough to hurt my ears. Several pool tables set against the wall had intimidating, heavily tattooed men milling around them. I didn't see many women and the ones I did were hanging on to the men like pole dancers in a strip club. Most important, I didn't see Rover.

Not knowing who I'd spoken to on the phone, I did what I thought was sensible. I headed for the bar, edging my way among tables, chairs, and bodies, all of which seemed to take pride in impeding my progress.

“Hey, babe, you looking to party?” one beefy, gray-haired biker asked. He looked old enough to be my father, with a thick, scruffy, unkempt beard. Both arms had sleeve tattoos and his neck was heavily marked as well.

“No thanks,” I said, not wanting to offend him. “I'm here for my dog.”

“Hey, that mutt your dog? He's a party animal if ever I saw one,” he said and laughed at his own joke.

“He likes beer,” another biker commented. “Bet you do, too.”

It was hard to make out the words over the loud music. Again I smiled and politely declined. “I'm only here for the dog.”

It felt like forever before I was able to make it across the room. The bartender was busy filling pitchers of beer and didn't notice me until I stood on the tips of my toes and leaned as far forward as I could, waving my arm in order to catch his attention.

“Be with you in a minute,” he called out when he noticed me.

“I'm here about the dog.”

“I'll get to you in a minute, lady. I'm working as fast as I can here; be a little patient, will ya?”

“Okay, sorry.” Patience wasn't one of my strong suits. I found being around these bikers unsettling, especially since several seemed to have taken a keen interest in me. The sooner I was back at the inn, the better I'd like it.

The bartender slid the pitcher toward the end of the bar and immediately reached for another.

Seeing how crowded the place was and how overwhelmed the bartender seemed to be, this could take awhile. “Where's Rover?” I shouted above the noise and racket. “If you tell me, I'll get him myself.”

“Got him in the back. Give me a minute, would you?”

“Sure.” His tone told me his office was off-limits. Rover was a nuisance; I was grateful he took the time to call me and let me know where he was.

Oh dear, if Jo Marie heard about this she would come unglued. I was unglued.

“Put a beer for the lady on my tab,” the older biker shouted out as he crowded into the space next to me, pressing his body firmly against mine.

I did my best to put some distance between us, although it did little good. He pushed into me as if we were cemented together. “I appreciate the offer,” I told him, avoiding eye contact, “but I need to get my dog home.”

“Your dog's fine where he is; no need to worry about him.”

This biker wasn't going to take my refusal lightly.

The door opened and someone else came into the tavern. I glanced over my shoulder, thinking, hoping, it was someone in law enforcement. No such luck. To my surprise, it was Nick Schwartz. For one wild moment I wondered if he'd followed me, which was a ridiculous thought. He couldn't have possibly known where I was headed or that I was even leaving the inn.

Right away Nick's gaze shot straight to mine and our eyes locked. He frowned and I watched as his shoulders stiffened and then rose as he exhaled.

He didn't say anything, but came to stand directly between me and the biker. He crossed his arms with his bulging muscles just the way he had Thursday morning when he'd glared at me from his porch. His look had intimidated me, but I had the feeling this biker wasn't as easily put off.

“The lady's with me,” Nick said.