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I certainly am when he looks at me like that, I thought. My defenses start crumbling like Hoover Dam being hit by a nuclear weapon.
“Okay, okay. I get your point. No more playing games with my emotions—or yours. I’ll quit stuffing it when I’m attracted to someone—even you.”
“Even me? What a romantic you are, Norah.” A smile played on his beautiful lips and his eyes twinkled. “I’ll take these as words of hope.”
I punched him in the arm. “Just because I promise not to play games with my emotions doesn’t mean anything will come of it, you know.”
“I’ll take that chance.” He picked up my hand and gently kissed each knuckle.
When he dropped me off at my front door and drove off, I stared after Joe for a long while.
“Well,” I muttered as I let myself in and prepared to have Bentley slam into my kneecaps in a frenzy of glee, “we’ll see what comes of this.”
It wasn’t until I was snuggled into bed with Bentley under the covers with me—he has his own pillow which he uses just like humans do—that I began to think about the ramifications of my conversation with Joe.
Then Bentley began to snore beside me and I was reminded that there wasn’t anything to worry about. It would have to be one very special man who’d be willing to share his bed with my dog—and that was a requirement I didn’t plan to bend easily.
Chapter Five
My phone rang at six on Monday morning. Fortunately I was up, showered and making myself a cappuccino to go with my bagel. The animals have no concept of “sleeping in” so they’re training me to get up earlier and earlier. Someone once asked me if I’d ever consider having a rooster around the Ark. No way. If I want another alarm clock, I’ll go to Target.
“Hi, Dad,” I said as I picked up the receiver. He’s the only one I know who keeps ridiculous hours like these.
“It’s me, Norah.”
And it was certainly not my father. “Auntie Lou? Is that you? You sound funny.”
“Nothing funny about it.” Her voice was fuzzy. Or maybe she just didn’t have her teeth in yet. “Are you coming to work soon?”
I eyed my bagel. “I’d planned to leave in fifteen or twenty minutes, after I eat breakfast and skim the paper.”
“Could you stop over here first?”
Odd. Auntie Lou likes to sleep late because she often stays up late into the night watching old movies and doing crossword puzzles. The doors to her shop never swing open before ten-thirty.
“Sure, I’d be glad to.”
“If you don’t have that extra key to my store at home with you, my key is under the pot with the artificial geraniums in it. You might have to dig a bit as I laid some stones on top of it, too.”
“You won’t be up to open the door?”
“If I could get up, I wouldn’t be calling you, dearie.”
I felt a wash of panic run through me. “Are you sick?”
“Not so’s you’d know it.”
“Then what’s going on?”
“Oh, Arthur pushed me out of bed this morning and Rhuma-tiz helped him,” she said obliquely.
“You fell out of bed?” I translated.
“More of a bad slide, but I ended up on the floor just the same. Fortunately I grabbed my cell phone on the way down. All I need is a little help up, dearie. I hope I didn’t bother you too early.”
I was already wrapping my bagel in a napkin and pouring my cappuccino into a carry cup as I answered. “Auntie Lou, how long did you wait before calling me?”
“Oh, not long. I got a chance to see the sun come up through my bedroom window. Pretty.”
“I’ll be right there.” Leave it to Auntie Lou to find the good in falling out of bed and lying on the floor half the night.
“No hurry. I’ll be here when you get here.”
No hurry? What am I going to do with that woman? Independent and free as a bird, stubborn as a mule and patient as a saint, she’d no doubt waited until it was convenient for me before calling. I wanted to hug her and shake her all at once.
Fortunately I’m walking distance from Pond Street. I was on my knees pawing in the dirt under the fake geraniums when I heard someone clear their throat behind me. I glanced sideways at a pair of polished black leather boots and four equally glossy hooves. On their way, no doubt to the art fair in the park. I found the key and rocked back on my heels to look at Officer Haley and Sarge. Sarge, even more imposing from this angle, shifted restlessly and the metal rings on his headstall and bridle jingled faintly.
“Anything wrong?” Nick Haley inquired mildly.
If I hadn’t been so rattled, I might have taken time to appreciate the melodic timbre in his voice. Instead, I just got annoyed.
“Do you ever take those things off?” I asked, referring to his mirrored glasses. “And if you do, I wish you’d do it right now. I need you to come upstairs and help me.”
His eyebrow arched over the frame. Then, slowly, he pulled the glasses off, revealing a strong, handsome face with unexpectedly blue eyes, long dark lashes and high cheekbones. Whoa. Eye candy.
“I got a call from Auntie Lou asking for help. She’s fallen out of bed and can’t get herself up, sort of like the television commercial, I’m afraid. Though she didn’t admit it, I’m sure she lay there most of the night so as not to disturb anyone’s sleep. She’s small but solid. I could use an extra pair of hands.”
He tied Sarge in a quick release knot, took the dirty key from my hand and opened the door. Together we ascended the stairs to the second floor of Auntie Lou’s shop and entered the small, cozy but cluttered apartment where she’d lived for as long as I—or anyone else on Pond Street—could remember.
If the shop was fascinating, her apartment was mesmerizing—full of charming bits of Auntie Lou’s history and favorite things that had come into the shop and been squirreled away in her personal stash. She loved old hats. A dozen of them were perched on hat forms around the room sporting plumes and feathers or intricate beading and competing for space with hand-painted vases, antique books and statues of dancing figures.
But this wasn’t a museum and we weren’t on a tour. I headed for what I knew was her bedroom and opened the door.
Auntie Lou lay on the floor in a puddle of sunlight. She’d put a hand across her eyes to keep out the sun and the big calico cat sat sentry over her. Her nightgown was pure Little House on the Prairie and the cane she’d taken to using lately lay on the floor out of reach.
“I hope you didn’t hurry on my account, dearie,” she managed. Her throat was dry and her voice cracking.
“I certainly did. How long have you been lying here? And is anything broken?”
“Only my pride, child. Only my pride.”
Without speaking, as if we were reading each other’s minds, Officer Haley and I braced ourselves and lifted Auntie Lou to her feet. Her knees buckled a bit and she sank gratefully onto the bed.
Officer Haley moved into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water which she sucked down with gusto.
“Should we call a doctor?” he inquired gently.
“Mercy sakes, no! There’s no medicine for being old and silly. I don’t know what made me think I could hop out of bed for a drink of water like I was a teenager. Arthur is a bad bedfellow, that’s all I can say.’
Officer Haley looked at me over her head, puzzlement in his beautiful eyes.
“Arthur. Arthritis. Auntie Lou and Arthur have a marriage of inconvenience,” I explained.
“Now you two run along and don’t tell another soul about this. I feel so foolish that my face must be red as a jar of beet pickles as it is!”
“No promises, Lou,” I said sternly. “We’re your family here on Pond Street. We can’t look after you if you never tell us what’s wrong.”
“Nothing subtracting forty or fifty years from my age wouldn’t help.” The calico was rumbling like a diesel truck and rubbing his head on Lou’s arm. “Now go away, both of you. I’ve got Silas here to help me get dressed.”
Lou chuckled at the expression on Nick’s face. “Silas is my cat. Named him after my dear departed husband. Both sweet, useless layabouts.”
“Are you sure…” he began.
“Sure as can be that you aren’t the one to help me get dressed, mister. You, either, Norah. Go rescue a gerbil or something. I’m fine.”
With that, she grabbed the cane Nick had propped by her bed and waved it at us threateningly. Our rescue mission was obviously over.
Back out in the sunlight, we found Sarge snacking contentedly on a patch of grass.
“Officer, I’d like to thank you…”
“Nick. Call me Nick.”
“Oh, well, yes, thank you,” I said, sounding vaguely dimwitted. I wish he’d put his sunglasses back on. Those eyes of his rattled me as though they X-rayed my soul. Instead, he stood there, tapping the bow of the glasses against his leg, making the coins in his pocket jingle.
“Tell me, has this happened before?”
“No. She sometimes complains that she’s so stiff she needs a hoist to get out of her chair, but when I suggested a lift chair so she could stand more easily, she huffed and puffed and said she didn’t want to be expelled from a chair like a bottle rocket and that was that. As far as I know, Auntie Lou has never had a major health issue. She’s just old.”
“How old?”
“She says she went to grade school with Methuselah and junior high with seven of the Apostles, but other than that, I have no idea.”
Finally, he laughed. “Okay, so it isn’t a recurring event. I’d just like to know in case…you know.”
“I’m glad you’re willing to watch out for Auntie Lou. I am, too. And everyone on Pond Street would notice if she didn’t show up at the shop for a day or two. Maybe I can convince her to go to the doctor for a checkup.”
“Does she have any family?” he inquired.
“None that she’s ever mentioned.” I felt my chin come out defensively. “We’re her family. I’m her family.”
Although I’d never thought about it like that before, I knew it was true.
We’re stewards, after all, responsible for the earth and creatures God gave us and for those who can’t care for themselves. “Care for the orphans and widows in their distress….” What can love and gentle care hurt? Absolutely nothing.
“Then she’s very fortunate to have you.”
“Fortunate to have me? I’m fortunate to have her. Auntie Lou is a treasure, Nick. Just wait until you get to know her. You’ll see.”
I reached out and stroked Sarge’s neck. “He’s beautiful. Have you always ridden horses?”
“For the police? No. I was a narcotics agent for several years. Then I had a little—” his voice faltered “—accident and I needed a change, an assignment a little less…dramatic. That’s when I backed off narcotics and went back on the force. When they needed someone part-time for the mounted patrol, I applied. I rode a lot as a kid and that was actually what I’d intended when I originally joined law enforcement. It seemed a natural choice. Now, as you know, I do crowd control for special events as well as normal police work. Shoreside has enough events around the lake, parades and fairs to keep me busy.”
Though his tone was pleasant, it felt as though he’d strung barbed wire around a certain topic he’d mentioned—an accident, his accident. Ask me about the horse, he hinted silently. Don’t ask me what happened to get me here.
“Well, I think he’s magnificent. There aren’t many jobs I could enjoy more than the one I already have except those involving horses or dog training or…”
“Give me horses any day,” he responded quickly. Sarge shifted restlessly and the creak of his saddle and the clank of stirrups reminded us how patiently he was waiting.
“Thanks for helping me with Auntie Lou,” I murmured. “I know you must have more to do than…”
“Anytime. And I’ll keep an eye out for her, too.”
Feeling grateful and a little giddy, I went to open Norah’s Ark and fed the masses.
At 10:00 a.m., two of my favorite Bed and Biscuit clients arrived. Winslow Cavanaugh galumphed into the store, tongue lolling out of his mouth. He’s a lovable galoot, pampered as much by his owner as Bentley is by me. A few steps behind, Cassia and Adam Cavanaugh entered. Adam was carrying a lurching pet carrier with feral sounds and hisses emanating from the breathing holes.
Winslow and Pepto have been coming to my B and B for several months now. The Cavanaughs travel a lot—overseas, I think—and the happy-go-lucky dog has made himself right at home in the back of the store. Pepto, a cat with the disposition of a viper and personality of an evil dictator of some small, suffering nation, has only deemed to grace us with his presence because he has no other option. I’ve made it my goal to win over the big, ornery cat and we’re making some headway. I love a challenge. Especially a furry one.
Once I got them settled, I returned to the front of the store in time to see Lilly sweep in and gracefully receive her admiring squawk from Winky. Today she was wearing something chiffon and mustard-yellow, a dress perhaps, although it looked as though it had been put together with safety pins. She had matching knee-high, lace-up boots, a vibrant orange ribbon woven through the blond curls she’d piled on top of her head and a necklace and earrings made out of more safety pins. On her, stunning. On me? Stunned.
“Don’t you look like a ray of sunshine?” I greeted her. Or a yellow paint spill.
“You like it?” She twirled and the chiffon floated around her in a gauzy cloud. “I thought I might run into Connor Trevain again today and I wanted to look, you know, nice.”
“Nice? You look like lemon sherbet. Delectable, mouth-watering even.”
“That’s what I was going for.”
“Trevain is still in your sights, is he?”
“He hasn’t been out of them since the day he arrived.” A small pout formed on her lower lip. “But he’s been so busy with those boats of his, he’s hardly had time to stop in to say hello. Did you come to work early today?” Lilly inquired as she picked up a piece of lettuce and fed it to the iguana.
“Earlier than I’d planned.” I gave her an abbreviated version of Auntie Lou’s arthritis and left out the help I’d received from Officer Haley. I didn’t want anyone to get the idea that Auntie Lou was incapable of caring for herself. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to have others watching out for her just in case she fell in her shop.
“Maybe she’s too old to be running that place all alone. When my grandmother was her age, she moved into a retirement home.”
I ignored her implication. Auntie Lou is not Lilly’s grandmother. She’s unique and can’t be compared to anyone else. I studied Lilly for a moment. “Something’s different about you today, Lilly. What’s up?”
She looked at me coyly, as if I’d caught her with her hand in the cookie jar. “I’ve made up my mind about something.”
“Tell me more.” Lilly prides herself on being flexible. To make up her mind—and stick with it—is definitely an occasion to be curious about.
“I’m getting married.”
I felt my jaw drop and my eyes bug out with shock.
“You don’t have to look so surprised. I’m almost thirty, you know. It’s time.”
