Chapter 5
I wake up suddenly from a vivid dream. Jack wanted to kiss me, but a dog prevented him from getting close enough. It barked until Jack retreated.
Once awake, I realize Lilly is barking. So this is what the Winslows have to deal with. Poor pup—she needs help. Right now though I can’t help but feel resentment for having been woken from that dream. It was kind of a nice one, except for the ending.
After a quick trip to the bathroom, I get dressed. As I put on a fresh polo shirt, Jack’s flannel shirt comes to my mind. He is vaguely familiar, but then again, men in flannel shirts all look the same. Strike that. Some are boring and ugly. This one here though, isn’t just plain handsome, but he looks uber-beautiful, even with that corny hat pulled low. His eyes are mesmerizing with their brownish green. That sounds odd rather than comely, but it was the first thing that caught my attention. His broad shoulders and slim waist are no hardship either. And I would just love to run my fingers through that short beard of his to find out how coarse it is.
He seems to be a multifaceted person. His behavior was odd last night, genuinely welcoming, yet somewhat socially awkward. Never would I have expected someone wearing a flannel and a fancy watch at the same time. Brittney had given Carson one of those for their fifth wedding anniversary and I had learned about its price tag then. Seriously, a watch for thirty thousand dollars should not be worn in the forest.
As much as I am perplexed by that carelessness, I don’t get myself to dislike Jack. That voice! When he spoke to the dog, he sounded like velvet. I’d misbehave to be called out by him, too. That’s a train of thought that I shouldn’t pursue, so I remind myself that he doesn’t really know about dogs. The way he grabbed the collar and looked her in the eyes from above, must have been intimidating to the poor dog.
Lilly needs help. She’s a Bernese mountain dog, her face more gray than black now. Her barking is not aggressive, but of course strangers would be concerned if a big black dog barked at them. From the short interaction we’ve had so far I can’t be certain, but I think she’s pacing. I hope I will be able to quickly find out what upsets her this much.
Focusing on my job here is way smarter than lusting over my client. First, because he is just that: my client. And relationships don’t last anyway. Brittney and Carson have always been a poster couple for relationship goals. Ever since the concert I’m not so sure about that anymore. My parents had fought a lot until Mom was deployed to Iraq, where she was killed. And Gramma, Mom’s mother, never had a husband. She got pregnant at sixteen, and while I suppose it had been the smart choice not to marry at that age, the baby’s father was never in the picture. Love doesn’t last in my family, so either I am doomed to a life of one-night stands, or spinsterhood. Yet, there is something intriguing about Jack that does not feel fleeting at all. I better nip that in the bud. Period.
On my way to the main house for breakfast, I shiver in the cold mountain air. I spent the last few weeks at home, and Virginia is so much warmer already, I didn’t even bring a warm coat. I will have to make do with layers of shirts and sweaters. I’m not skinny by any means, but in order to stay warm I will need to turn myself into Marshmallow Woman. Frumpiness is my superpower.
The trees mostly display spring leaves, although some are still stark. There is a species of maple that has a reddish hue this time of year, almost like the colors of fall. I’ve always loved those. And dogwood. Who doesn’t love a tree that has big white or pink flowers?
I love this time of the year. It’s full of promise, like everything is possible. I slow down until I stand still. That’s something I do whenever I need to think hard or have a revelation. It annoys my family, but I can’t help it. Like now, I’ve just had the revelation that I love moments that promise me a brighter future. Like springtime or the minutes before a band enters the stage.
In the silvery morning light, the mountains are actually blue. I thought that was just a name. The sun doesn’t reach the slopes of the nearest ridge, and so its shades are dark blue, and only in the few spots the light meets the tops of firs, does rich green come out. The ranges behind get lighter until they almost blur into the sky. This is breathtakingly beautiful.
I stand for so long and stare at the blue ridges, that I’m late for breakfast. I offer my apologies, but they won’t hear of it.
“How could we possibly be mad at someone falling in love with our mountains?” Thomas asks. The Winslows all insist on me calling them by their first names.
Thomas and Patty have three boys, all grown up lumberjacks. Finn is the eldest, in his early thirties maybe. He lives in a cabin somewhere on this vast stretch of forestry land. Lyle has moved in with Grace, his fiancée, somewhere in town. And Jack is living in a cabin not far from the one I’m in.
Today, they are all here for breakfast, including Grace, who for the most part sits quietly at the table and sips at her chamomile tea.
Jack looks different without his hat. If possible, he is even more handsome. He sits opposite me, and I have a hard time not staring at him. Sometimes our eyes meet, and I quickly avert mine. He’s got me tongue-tied; I find it much easier to talk to the others.
The conversation at the kitchen table is easy going, and it’s interesting to observe the family. They are close, that much is evident. And yet they constantly nag and tease one another.
“Oh, Jack , you get rabbit food?” Finn points at the avocado toast Patty hands his brother.
“Don’t get started, Finn,” his mother warns.
The rest of us get steak and eggs, and although it looks and smells delicious, I somewhat jealously eye his plate.
Patty notices. “Oh, you lovebirds even like the same food.”
I freeze, with my mouth full of steak. Jack drops his fork, and it clatters loudly on the plate.
Thomas harrumphs and gives his wife a questioning look. “Lovebirds?”
Patty’s face flushes crimson. “I can see how you look at each other.” She waves her hands. “Forget about that. I didn’t just say that. I didn’t even think it.” She busies herself with the coffee and refills our cups. “Still, I’ll make you an avocado toast tomorrow,” she says quietly.
There is an uncomfortable silence at the table. Finally, Lyle clears his voice. “So, you are a dog trainer.”
Finn bursts out laughing. “Smooth transition, brother.”
“Yeah, so? You didn’t come up with anything.”
“But if I had it would have been something cool.”
“Like what?”
Finn smooths his beard, thinking, but remains silent.
“See?” Lyle gloats.
Grace looks at me. “So, you are a dog trainer.” That’s a subtle way of having her fiancée’s back and I take a sudden liking to her.
I manage to swallow the bite of steak. “Yes, I am. My specialty is in-house training as I find it more effective than weekly sessions on a training ground.”
“Have you been doing this for long?”
“Four years now. Before that I was assistant to a dog trainer in Richmond while I worked on my credentials. And my father is head of a K-9 unit, so I’ve grown up among dogs and have lifelong experience.”
Finn chimes in. “Will you be able to teach an old dog new tricks? Lilly is thirteen now.”
“Please stop that,” Jack interrupts. “You all make it sound like a belated interview. Hunter already has the job, and I’m sure she’ll be great at it.”
Jack having my back kindles an exciting warmth in me. I don’t need his support, but it sure feels nice. Everybody apologizes, but I wave them off. “Those are legit questions. As to teaching an old dog—that remains to be seen. I haven’t really met her but for the short meeting last night. Where is she?”
Everybody looks at the dog bed under the window, but it is empty. Jack calls for her in vain.
He gets up to search for her, but I stop him. “Let me come with you. I like to see what she’s doing while you all think she’s around.”
We find her in the lobby, lying on a sofa. Jack scolds her, and she reluctantly opens an eyelid. Gingerly, she scrambles down. Once on the floor, she eagerly greets him. This is not the kind of greeting I’d expect after maybe an hour of absence. It looks more like she meets Jack after weeks again.
We take her with us into the kitchen and I listen as everybody describes Lilly as changed and causing problems, where she used to be so sweet.
As Thomas explains Lilly’s diet, a knocking rhythm distracts him. Jack has his eyes closed and taps his fingers on the table. It almost sounds like a song in the making.
“Hey, Jack!” Thomas shouts, but Jack doesn’t seem to hear him.
Finn punches his arm. “Earth to Jack .”
“Ouch.”
Worried this might lead to another round of banter, I steer the conversation back to Lilly. “When has she last been seen by a vet?”
“What for? She’s getting her shots, but that’s about it. She is healthy.”
“Still, I’d like to have some bloodwork done and a general assessment. It wouldn’t make sense to train with her if there was an underlying health issue.”
“Tell me what you want to be seen to. I’ll take her.” On his phone Jack notes down the things I list for the vet to check.
After breakfast, I take a walk to acquaint myself with the premises. The main house is separated from the road by a meadow and a small pond. Behind it, countless acres of forest stretch up and down the slopes. There are a few cabins for tourists; the last one is still being worked on.
I learn that Lyle is a carpenter and has a workshop in town, by what they call the Christmas lot. He moved off the premises a few months ago. Did Lilly start barking then?
Thomas and Patty are semi-retired. They gave up on their lumber business and sold part of their land last year to rent cabins to tourists instead. So many changes. No wonder the dog picks up on that. It’s time to find out what’s bugging this old girl.