Chapter 9
Hank
My brother came up behind me while I loaded plates into the dishwasher. “Dude, can I borrow your car?”
I glanced over my shoulder. “Sorry, but I’m going out in a few minutes.”
His eyebrows drew together. “On a Sunday afternoon? Bro, if you’ve been reduced to awkward coffee dates, we need to get you some professional help.”
I picked up the wet sponge by the sink and threw it at him.
He caught it with a laugh. “Seriously, where are you going?”
“I’ve got a Dogtober planning session.”
He snorted. “Of course you do. You’ve sunk even lower than coffee dates. You’ve got so much free time you’re organizing dorky festivals for this dorky-ass town.”
Ouch. “I only moved here for you, you brat.”
He grimaced. “But you like Granville, right?”
Actually, I did. It was quaint, with cute little businesses. Everyone was nosy and gossipy, but in a nice way. It was comforting to see so many familiar faces, too. Which begged the question, how the hell had I missed Jamie before the date fiasco?
“I like it,” I confirmed. “And I had a date Saturday, so you can stop worrying about me.”
It had been a date to nowhere, but Corey didn’t need to know that. I’d chosen not to share the details with my butthead of a brother. He’d have keeled over laughing—or maybe just suggested I’d have better luck dating men.
“Nice!” Corey tossed the sponge into the sink. “You going to see her again?”
Her. Because my brother reasonably assumed my date was with a woman.
“Uh, no, probably not.”
“What was wrong with her?”
“Nothing was wrong with—” I stopped abruptly and slammed the dishwasher door shut. “We just weren’t a good match, that’s all. Sometimes it doesn’t work out.”
“A lot of times, apparently,” he muttered.
I smacked the back of his head. “Do you want a ride somewhere, or should I leave your bratty ass here?”
He grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, that’d be great. I promised Rachel I’d come over. She’s stuck baby-sitting her nephews. They get rowdy.”
“Hmm.”
“What?” A defensive edge crept into his voice. My brother and I got along great most of the time. Our one point of contention had been Rachel.
Corey loved her. I didn’t doubt that. But that didn’t make their relationship healthy.
He’d followed her to another town without a good plan for himself.
He walked out of his last job to take her to a concert in Omaha when he couldn’t get the day off.
When she called, he went running. And there was a thin line between love and obsession.
“Nothing,” I said, knowing better than to restart an old argument. “Let’s go.”
Corey grabbed his shoes, and I gathered my phone, wallet, and keys.
After dropping him at Rachel’s place, I drove over to Beaver Hole Park.
The section designated for the dog park was toward the back.
There was a small collection of trees and a pond, but most of it was open grassland designed for dogs to run and play off-leash.
I carried Bruno under one arm and a box of paperwork with the other: donation forms, vendor applications, and general information about our timeline for the festival.
I went back to the spot where I’d met Jamie—because it had the best shade for a bright sunny August afternoon. I set the box of paperwork on the bench where we’d shared snacks, then put Bruno on the ground and unleashed him.
He took off like a shot, yipping happily. I watched to make sure he didn’t stir up any aggression in the larger mastiff he was barreling toward. Mastiffs could be protective of their owners, but this guy seemed calm enough.
The mastiff looked down at Bruno, his wrinkled face giving the illusion that he was puzzled by the little dog dancing around his legs.
He woofed once, low but gentle, and picked up a rawhide bone, flinging it into the air. Bruno raced after it. The mastiff didn’t appear to mind sharing, so I turned my attention to Dogtober planning.
A small crowd of volunteers joined me one by one, some with their dogs. I waited until five past three, to give stragglers a chance to arrive, then launched into my speech.
“Hey, everyone. Thanks for meeting me here. I thought it fitting, since this is where we’ll be setting up our very first Dogtober Days Festival.”
There were a couple of encouraging whoops and a smattering of applause. I chuckled. The volunteers gathered had a vested interest in the event.
Pam Drake, owner of the rival grooming company Pampered Paws, stood right up front with a white bichon frise in her arms. The man beside her, Rick Jackson, ran a small Kennel Club, which organized a dog show for the county each year.
His black-and-white speckled English setter was gorgeous where it sat by his feet.
Kelly Hoffman stood next to him. She was the best obedience trainer in the state.
Word was, she owned about five German shepherds, but none had come to the meeting today.
Sherlee Williams, director of the Elkhorn County animal shelter based in Riverton, stood toward the back. Granville had a small rescue, but we relied heavily on the county shelter to take our overflow.
There were a few other folks I didn’t know as well. Some just enthusiastic pet owners. Some kept their pets on leashes, and others let them run loose like Bruno.
“Sammi is celebrating her wife’s birthday today, so you’re stuck with me,” I admitted.
“Ah, but you’ll do great!” Kelly called out.
I smiled. “I appreciate the vote of confidence. The only one, apparently.”
The crowd laughed. “You’ve got my vote too,” Rick called.
I pretended to wipe away sweat. “Whew! Tough crowd. So, we’ve already done some work on the festival, but we need more help.
I’ve got sponsorship forms, volunteer forms, and vendor applications with me.
” I pulled out a stand and began handing them out to the group of about fifteen in attendance.
“Please fill out whatever applies to you and take a few extra for your friends. We’re going to have to get out there and recruit more if we want this event to be as big as we planned. ”
“I’ll put out some calls in Riverton,” Sherlee volunteered.
“I can make some calls here in town,” Rick added. “I’ve got a lot of contacts through the kennel circuit.”
“That would be great,” I said. “We especially need to get plenty of vendors nailed down because—”
A sharp bark cut across my words. It was a happy sound, so I wasn’t worried.
“Tramp, no!”
I turned just in time to watch a Lab leap over the bench, his hind foot catching the edge of my box and sending it flying.
Papers gusted out, the wind catching them and sending them in all directions. The crowd scattered, everyone trying to rescue the paperwork.
“I’m so sorry!”
I looked past the scattered paperwork, past the volunteers, to the dog owner who came to a stop, breath wheezing in and out as if he’d just run a race—but then, he probably had.
Jamie looked so mortified my heart twinged.
“I was the one who decided to bring paperwork to a dog park,” I said ruefully.
Jamie shook his head, sucked in a breath, and called out, “Tramp, get back here!”
The naughty Lab actually paused mid-flight, cast Jamie a guilty look, then hid behind a tree.
“He’s gonna be the death of me,” Jamie muttered, then cast me a guilty look very similar to his dog’s. “This wasn’t planned, I swear. I didn’t mean to ruin your meeting.”
Before I could respond to that, he’d taken off after his dog, a demure Lady following in his footsteps.
My volunteers returned one by one, clutching handfuls of paper, but it was clear they hadn’t caught it all. I’d have to make a round of the park to gather up the lost forms.
“Well, that was just a taste of the chaos of a dog festival,” I joked as they returned.
Kelly chuckled. “Is Jamie setting up a vendor booth at Dogtober Days?”
“Uh, I don’t know. I think it’s coincidence his path crossed with ours.”
“Oh, you should ask him!” Clark Rhodes called. The history teacher was holding a dustmop of a little black dog. “He makes the best dog treats. He gives them out at the park sometimes.”
I remembered, with a pang, our text conversation the night he’d mentioned baking treats for his dogs.
I’d thought he just spoiled his pups rotten; I didn’t realize he did it for others.
Then again, I hadn’t even realized Jamie was a he, so it was no great surprise I’d missed a few other things as well.
“Unfortunately, he failed obedience training,” Kelly added. “He lets that dog run all over him. Labs have so much energy. You have to either tire them out or really take the lead as an alpha they’ll respect.”
I could see why Jamie might have trouble with that. He was too darn sweet to discipline Tramp. But then I was no better with Bruno.
I cast my gaze around the park, realizing I hadn’t seen where my little trouble-maker ran off to.
I handed out the forms we’d managed to round up and thanked my volunteers, then grabbed up my box and went to find Bruno.
Along the way, I collected stray papers caught in the brambles of bushes, plastered against the trunk of a tree, or continuing to float along the ground, carried by the wind.
I found Bruno snoozing under a tree—right next to Lady. Jamie was a few feet away, scolding Tramp in a crooning voice that made the ornery guy wag his tail. No wondered he’d failed obedience training.
“You will clean up your mess, Mister,” he told him. “And you’ll apologize to Hank, won’t you?”
“No apology necessary,” I said as I walked up behind him.
Jamie jumped and whirled toward me. Tramp—who was now on a leash—ran around him at the sound of my voice. He wound the leash around Jamie’s legs twice, causing him to fall—
Right into my arms.