Wandering Heart (9781101561362) (15 page)

“That would be great. I hope she has one.”

“Me, too,” Rob said sincerely. He leaned over and held her shoulder while he kissed her good-bye. Then he leaned back just a little and stared into her eyes. “If she’s here any longer, you’ll really get attached. Then what?”

Audrey didn’t know what to say. “Have a good day. Sell a lot of cheese,” she called as her husband walked out.

The dog stirred and stretched out, obviously relieved her nemesis had gone and she had Audrey all to herself again.

She was a pretty dog, Audrey thought. Not that badly behaved either—except for the boot laces and a few socks. Her company had been a big distraction the last few days, even her bad behavior.
Keeping my mind off the appointment with the specialist on Tuesday,
Audrey realized.

But there was a family somewhere who missed her. It wasn’t fair to keep her. For that reason alone, Audrey knew she had to do the right thing and keep trying to find the dog’s owner.

The farm’s shop was busy all day, as Audrey had predicted, keeping her mind off the onerous chore facing her. By the late afternoon, Audrey’s resolve had melted, but Rob appeared promptly at three and she couldn’t make any more excuses.

She carried the dog’s rope leash, but didn’t even bother fastening it to her collar. “Come on, sweetie. Want to go for a ride?”

The dog eagerly followed her to the truck and hopped in.

If only you knew what was coming,
Audrey thought, glancing at her happy passenger as they left the farm.

S
HE
found the dog shelter in Essex easily, but the entrance to the office was not marked very clearly. On the way, she passed an open kennel filled with rows of dogs in wire cages, barking nonstop and jumping at the bars of their cages when she passed—or, worse, looking sad and disoriented, slunk back in a dark corner.

She walked by quickly, trying not to dwell on the dog’s possible fate. She finally found the entrance and led the dog into the building. There was a small reception area that smelled strongly of disinfectant. A receptionist sat behind a glass window. An air conditioner hummed loudly, but Audrey could still hear the barking dogs in the background.

“This dog wandered onto our property. I’d like to have her scanned for a microchip,” Audrey explained.

“Have a seat. Someone will be out for you shortly.”

Audrey took a seat in a hard plastic chair, and the dog sat next to her, leaning on her leg and panting.
The dogs outside must have scared her,
Audrey thought.
Or maybe she just senses where she is.

“Audrey Gilroy?” A veterinary technician called her name from another doorway. Audrey stood up and followed him, leading the dog into an exam room.

“When did you find her?” He crouched down to examine the dog.

“She found us, Tuesday night. She was barking in our yard during a thunderstorm so I took her in. There weren’t any tags on her
collar or any other ID. I put up some flyers yesterday, on Angel Island, where we live, and my husband brought a few into town this morning. We haven’t heard from anyone yet.”

“It might take a while. You’d be surprised. She may have come to the area with someone who was vacationing around here.”

“Oh, right. I didn’t even think of that.”

“She seems to be in pretty good health, though she has a little skin rash on her belly.”

Audrey had noticed it and put a bit of antiseptic lotion there but didn’t know what else to do.

“I’ll scan her for a chip and see what we find.”

The dog was too big to lift onto the exam table. The vet tech kept her on the floor and asked Audrey to hold her head while he swept the scanning wand around the dog’s body.

Audrey felt anxious but the dog was happy to be held by her, resting the full weight of her head in Audrey’s hands. She stared up with total trust and adoration.

Audrey sighed and petted her silky fur.
Do you really have to make this so hard for me?
she nearly said out loud. Half of her wanted the vet to find a chip, and the other half screamed,
No-o-o-o! Stop!

He finally leaned back and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t find one. It’s usually in the hindquarters or shoulder. I searched her entire body. Nothing.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Audrey said, feeling surprisingly relieved.

She patted the dog’s head one last time and stood up.

The dog stared back and panted as if asking, “Time to go, right?”

“Do you plan to leave her here? Or keep her?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said honestly.

Rob would not be happy if she came back with the dog. But he would get used to the idea. Facing his annoyance seemed a small
price to pay at that moment. What chance did the poor thing have here? She was so big and shaggy, no one would adopt her. No one with a nice home would want all that dog hair flying around. At least on the farm, it didn’t matter … that much.

“It’s a big responsibility,” the vet tech said, cutting into her thoughts. “I’m not trying to pressure you.”

“I understand.” Audrey knew she had other things to worry about now, more important priorities. If she had to get fertility treatments, she would be away from the farm a lot and Rob might be, too. The dog would just be an extra worry.

As she tried to decide, the dog leaned against her leg and turned her head to look straight up at her. Audrey automatically gave her a reassuring pat. Just outside the window of the exam room, she heard the lonely, excited dogs, barking in their cold, bare cages.

Could she leave this sweet animal here to face that fate?

“I guess I’ll take her back with me. I’m going to try a little harder to find her owner. Can I come back if I can’t find her home?”

The vet tech smiled; Audrey could tell he was happier with that decision, too. “Absolutely. But if you’re going to take her, she needs a few shots and some ointment for that rash.”

The shelter gave her a discount on the medical costs because the dog was a rescue, but Audrey hadn’t expected to pay any vet bills today. They also gave her a real leash and a few pamphlets on dog care and training.

Back in the truck, they headed for the island. “Well, here we are again,” she said to her cheerful passenger. “I think you knew you didn’t have a microchip. You just let me bring you anyway.”

The dog leaned over and licked her ear.

“Okay, if you’re going to hang around awhile, we need a few
ground rules. No chewing shoes or socks. Or stealing the goat food—or people food either,” she added.

The dog seemed to be listening, Audrey noticed. Or maybe just humoring her.

“You’ll hear more from Rob on this subject, I’m sure,” she warned her.

The dog was not fazed. She appeared to smile and stuck her head out the window for the rest of the ride home.

T
HE
crew was filming two scenes on Sunday in town. But Charlotte wasn’t needed for either. She was glad to have some downtime. The inn was very quiet and even Meredith had gone off for the afternoon to explore Newburyport with a few other staffers who were not scheduled to work.

After lunch, Charlotte sat on the porch with her script, reviewing her lines for Monday’s shooting schedule. Liza was out but had promised to take her for a ride around the island when she came back. All Charlotte had seen so far was the beach below the inn, where they had done most of the filming. And the ocean, of course.

She couldn’t seem to focus on the script, and turned her attention to knitting instead. She had found the shop in Cape Light Claire had recommended and picked up yarn and a few supplies to start a knitting project. She had picked a pattern for a hat and matching scarf, a project she could complete before she left the island.

Charlotte was so immersed in her needles and yarn, she didn’t notice Liza, cruising up to the porch on her bike. A crunch of gravel announced the innkeeper’s arrival, and Charlotte suddenly looked up.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” Liza slipped off the bike,
then took a package from the basket in back. “So you found the knitting shop,” she said, coming up the steps.

“Yes, I was so glad Claire told me about it. Knitting is sort of like meditation for me, except you have something to show for your efforts afterward. Besides, I like to think of the person I’m knitting for when I work on something. It’s like sending waves of love in the stitches.”

“How sweet. I never thought of knitting that way. I should try it. Maybe Claire can teach me.”

“It’s not hard,” Charlotte encouraged her.

“What are you making? Looks like a hat,” Liza observed.

“Yes, it will be,” Charlotte said quickly. She glanced at Liza and changed the subject. “Do you ride your bike around here a lot?”

“When I’m not in too much of a hurry. It’s good for my hips and the environment.”

“I haven’t been on a bike in years.”

“You can take mine out if you like. You’ll get a really good tour of the island on a bike ride,” Liza suggested.

“I’d love that.” Charlotte had reached the end of a row and capped the needles. She liked the idea of seeing more of the island, up close and personal—and incognito. It would be hard to recognize anyone under a bike helmet and sunglasses, she thought. And she could use the exercise, since her personal trainer, who often traveled with her on location, hadn’t been available for this shoot. Charlotte couldn’t afford to return to L.A. flabby. Her next role was a sultry nightclub singer in the 1940s, and all of the costumes were close-fitting.

“Would you like some company? I can come with you,” Liza offered.

Charlotte sensed Liza was just being polite, and a bit overprotective.

“That’s okay. You’ve already had your workout. You probably just want a cold drink and shower.”

“I do,” Liza admitted. “It might be more fun to wander on your own, anyway. There are only two big roads on the island. One goes north and south and the other, east and west. You can’t really get lost, even if you try. I’ll give you a map, and you have your cell phone—”

“I’ll be fine, honestly,” Charlotte cut in. “All I need are some water bottles.”

“No problem. I’ll bring them right out for you.”

A few minutes later, Liza adjusted the bike seat for Charlotte’s long legs and gave her a map with the island’s best sites circled and her cell number written on the bottom of the page.

Charlotte set off, turning right at the bottom of the inn’s long drive and heading for the village center. She glided past the Gilroy Farm and remembered her promise to Audrey to visit. But she was enjoying herself too much to stop. Maybe on the way back, she thought.

It was such a relief to have some time completely on her own. She was always surrounded and even smothered by her coworkers and helpers. The downtime was a real luxury, and she relished the feeling of the sun on her face and the sea-scented breeze that kept her cool as she pedaled along. Even the uphill climbs on the road were invigorating, forcing her muscles to kick into gear.

With the view of the ocean and blue sky to her left and the rolling green meadows of the farm on her right, Charlotte felt elated by the beauty all around her. There was so much open space here, endless blue sky arching over the sea and green spaces. Even though she owned a home on the water back in California, this place felt completely different. It was so empty and untamed. No mini-mansions and postmodern glass boxes marring the landscape.

She thought again about the island legend Colin had told her. She could understand why people here could believe in a story like that. This place was totally enchanting and the more she saw of it, the more she felt it casting its spell on her.

As she pedaled along her mind kept circling back to the idea of angels. She had never given much thought to them before—except to maybe think of them like Santa and the Easter bunny, sweet stories having very little to do with reality. But here the entire notion seemed more believable. The landscape was flat and empty; the sky seemed so vast, merging with the sea. Even the air seemed clearer and full of soft, radiant light.

The island was a unique place, she had no doubt, and she could easily believe it was a place touched by the powers above, a place that was closer to heaven somehow than the rest of the world. She did think there was something to the legend of healing here. She had felt it herself, the day she’d been rescued from the sea. The experience had touched her deeply, transforming her in some way she couldn’t quite understand, and couldn’t deny.

Charlotte pedaled along and soon came to the island’s village center. Seeing the General Store, she decided to go in and explore. She stopped her bike then took off her helmet and sunglasses. She was about to go inside when a group of cyclists swooped into the village, swarming the small square. Dressed in black spandex shorts and colorful biking shirts, the group rode up to the store and dismounted, grabbing their water bottles. She lingered at a distance until one of them pulled off his helmet and waved to her.

Charlotte waved back, then put on her helmet, turned her bike, and kept going. The cyclist stood staring at her, wide eyed. Charlotte wasn’t sure if she’d been recognized, but she didn’t want to take any
chances. She pushed on the pedals for some speed and headed on, passing the little tea shop and the medical clinic.

A few minutes later, when it seemed safe to stop, she took out a water bottle and consulted the map. Liza had circled the fishing village at the other end of the island as a spot worth seeing. Liza mentioned that Claire lived there.

The village was on the southwest coast of the island, along a little peninsula called Thompson’s Bend that stuck out in the ocean. Charlotte stared at the circled spot. That was where Colin lived, too. If you didn’t count the lobsters, she hadn’t heard from him since Wednesday, the day he rescued her. And she hadn’t stopped thinking about him since. If she rode out there, maybe she would run into him.

But as she considered the idea, she began to have her doubts.
Have you caught some weird bug from all your crazy fans and stalkers? You’ll be doing the same thing to him that you hate people doing to you.