5. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Noah
P axton Greer had a lovely plum farm, and he was happy to give us a tour as Stormy acclimated to us. The Newfie cross was already about eighty pounds and had massive feet.
“The vet reckons she’ll be over one hundred.” Paxton petted her. “She’s a big sweetheart, but I just don’t have room for one more.”
His three other dogs were penned back near the farmhouse.
He glanced around. “Okay, I’d totally keep her, but my wife would have a conniption fit. She’s pregnant with our second child, and she’s already got a lot to deal with. I mean, I do what I can, but I’m in the fields a lot.”
We wandered down a row of trees in his orchard.
Stormy steadfastly walked on his far side, keeping her distance from Christian and me .
“We’ll give her a good home, I promise. We’re renting a lovely home on acreage.”
“Esmeralda’s place?”
I nodded. He’d asked when I’d called, and I’d laid everything on the table. I didn’t want to show up, fall in love with Stormy, and then not pass Paxton’s inspection. He was trying to play this off like letting Stormy go was no big deal, but it clearly was.
“Noah’s a dog trainer.” Christian grinned. “He’s raised dogs his entire life and is so great with them. Stormy’s going to have plenty of company.”
“Oh?” Paxton cocked his head.
Christian’s eyes widened as if he realized he might’ve said the wrong thing. He likely hadn’t—but I didn’t need him championing me. Even if those words made my insides go gooey.
“What he’s trying to say is we’re starting a class of puppies next week. Stormy’s going to show them what a good dog looks like.” I eyed her over Paxton’s side.
She was an incredibly well-behaved dog. Walking on the leash without pulling. Cautious but not unfriendly with strangers. Attentive and clearly eager to please.
Paxton wiped his brow. “She’s had some solid training.
I don’t understand why someone dumped her here—in the middle of a rainstorm, no less.
She came to our door and cowered under the porch.
I only saw the flash of her eyes. Thought she might be a coyote or something, but she came right to me.
I dried her off, fed her, then spent the next month with a shadow as I’ve tried to find her owner. ” He shook his head. “No luck.”
“You said you spoke to Sheriff West?”
“Clay. Yeah. He thanked me for watching over her and said I was free to re-home her. I could’ve gone to a shelter, but I thought maybe I might be able to find someone myself.” He eyed me. “Someone who’d see how special she is.”
“I can see it. You’ve done a great job with her. Clearly she’s been well treated. I promise we’ll take good care of her. Our SUV’s full of everything she might need, and we’ll run over to Hartsville if there’s something she needs that we don’t have.”
“You can keep the harness. I bought it for her special.” Paxton smiled. “And I bought adjustable because she’s still growing. I’d say she’s putting on almost a pound a week.”
“They grow up quickly.” I glanced at the dog. “You’ve been treat training her?”
“Yep. Figured that was the quickest way to gain compliance. The vet said it’d be fine because she’s not overweight or anything.”
“Great. We bought a bunch, so I’ll pick up where you left off.
” Truthfully, I didn’t know how competent Paxton was with training, but Stormy responded well to him.
This is going to hurt her — taking her away from him.
From this farm . Yet she couldn’t stay. Christian and I could offer her a good home.
“Do you have some paperwork you would like us to sign?”
Paxton nodded. “Nothing legal or anything. Just a document saying you’re going to be responsible for her. That you’ll get her spayed and micro-chipped. Or tattooed. Doesn’t matter. Just that you’ll take care of her the way she deserves to be.”
“I’m happy to sign any papers. And yes, we’ll get her to the vet next week and discuss all those things.
I’m a strong believer in…” I hesitated. “They’re like my kids.
Growing up? I had kind of a chaotic home-life, but I always had an animal to love.
Hank, my last rescue, died a year ago. I’d been looking for the next one when I met someone.
” I cleared my throat. “That didn’t pan out, and I missed having an animal in my li fe.
Having a companion. Christian’s okay, but he’s not so great to cuddle with on the couch. ”
“Hey!” He tried for indignant, but his grin gave him away.
Paxton gazed between the two of us. “Y’all aren’t a couple?”
Christian coughed.
“Oh.” I frowned. “I should’ve been clear. Best friends. We’re sharing the house, and although Stormy will be my responsibility, Christian’s my backup. Always two of us to take care of her.”
The farmer laughed. “You must be close because I totally read you as a couple. Doesn’t matter to me. I have a couple of gay friends myself. I’m of the live and let live school of thought. Some folks aren’t so much.” He gestured to my bracelet. “Just don’t forget that.”
“I won’t. I wore it around my town in Tennessee. Including at the bank where I worked. I was always willing to stand up to homophobes.”
“Good for you.” Paxton petted Stormy on the head. “I don’t care about the sexual orientation of whoever she’s going to. I just want to know she’s cared for.”
“We can send regular photo updates, if you’d like. Just quick little check-ins.” Christian offered the words with a sincere smile.
“I’d really like that. I’d come visit, but I don’t want to confuse her. But yeah, for the first few months, anyway…if you could let me know how she’s doing?”
“I have your cell phone number.” I eyed Christian even as I spoke to Paxton. “If you don’t mind, I’ll let him send the updates. It’s something he’s good at.” I was fine with using my phone for business, but I’d never been enamored with it. I preferred face-to-face contact.
Christian lived for messaging and texting. Yet, in time since we’d left home, he hadn’t—in my presence—sent a single text .
As a precaution, I’d shut down my one social media account. I’d given my new unlisted number to my mother—who’d appeared wholly uninterested. She was with a new guy and he’d be the center of her universe until he fucked off to wherever.
“Yes.” Paxton nodded to Christian. “Thanks for the suggestion.”
He smiled back. “I’d want to know, if our positions were reversed.”
“Well…” He stopped and gazed around. “You’ll have free plums for life.
Because you’re rescuing her.” He smiled—a little wistfully.
“All three of mine are rescues. But my wife, rightly, put her foot down at a fourth.” He knelt before Stormy.
“I adore you so very much. You need to know I would’ve kept you. ”
She licked his cheek. She didn’t understand the words, of course, but she clearly understood something big was happening and her person was upset.
I hated to add to her upheaval, but no easy way existed for us to do this.
Paxton gave her a hug as she leaned against him.
Clearly, he’d bonded with her. This must be killing him.
I know it would destroy me. I’d raised four dogs through my childhood, adolescence, and early adulthood.
Losing each had gutted me. I would’ve loved to say my mother had guided me through the pain, but she hadn’t.
She’d simply agreed to let me rescue another dog.
As long as they don’t get in my way . Her way being whatever guy she was with at the time.
I loved my mother, but her taste in men was atrocious.
Paxton rose, handed me the leash, turned, and then walked away.
Stormy tried to follow, but I clicked my tongue. She turned to me.
I pulled a treat out of my pocket.
She cocked her head.
I placed it on the ground between the two of us.
She didn’t hesitate, inhaling the treat without even tasting .
“Want another?” I clearly had her attention.
She eyed me.
“Sit.”
She plopped onto her butt and eyed the treat. When I offered it on my palm, she lapped it up.
“Good girl. You’re such a good girl.” I held out my hand.
After a long moment, she placed herself under my hand.
I was able to stroke her long, luscious, silky fur.
I’d never had a Newfoundland of my own, but I’d trained one at the store a couple of years ago.
Wicked smart and, if raised correctly, incredibly gentle.
I trusted that if Paxton had any concerns, he would’ve voiced them.
She’d been living with complete access to three other dogs and a toddler without incident.
“Are you ready to come home with us? Oh, you need to meet Christian.”
He stepped within her line of sight.
“You can give her a treat.”
His eyes lit and he dug into his pocket.
We’d prepared for the visit and the hopeful eventuality that she’d come home with us.
“Treat?” He held it out to her. “Oh, can you go down?”
She plopped onto the dry earth.
“Oh, what a good girl you are. So precious.” He was using his cutesy voice that always amused me. I would vary my tone of voice depending on how I was interacting with the dogs—but I never did cutesy.
She lapped up the treat he offered.
We were going to be okay.