28. Ledger
Ledger
Luke told me he and Will made contact at a bar, and things were okay.
But he looked tired. He’s doing what Kensington asks him to do.
They need to think I’m disappointed with Will’s performance as an officer and plan on bringing charges against him for stealing from the evidence lock-up because it reinforces his story, so I can’t contact him.
But concern for the entire operation is starting to turn into full-blown worry.
I knew it wasn’t the best idea to fire him.
But the other part of me didn’t see another choice.
No progress was being made. More arrests and safety issues with drugs, DUIs, and suspicious people doing out of the ordinary things. Something had to be done, so we did it.
But was the cost too high?
Pulling into my driveway, I open the garage and find Shiloh’s old jeep already parked. I’m surprised she’s home, and simultaneously mad she didn’t call me when she left work.
I head inside, hitting the button to close the garage door behind me. I don’t think the house is being watched, but in case it is, it’s better if they don’t know when she’s here.
I hang my hat on the hook, put my boots in their place, and trudge into the kitchen to find Shiloh with … a puppy.
“Hey, you’re home,” she says with a smile on her face.
My chest warms, and my shoulders lighten.
“Yeah, why didn’t you call me when you left work?” I ask her.
She shrugs. “I forgot. Sorry.”
“I see, and who is this?” I ask her, looking at the little mutt gnawing on her finger.
“I haven’t named him yet,” she says and pets his head.
The puppy looks up at her as if she holds the whole world.
I know how he feels.
He looks a little rough, might have skipped a few meals, or many, with the way his ribs stick out.
“And why do you have this dog?” I ask her.
She looks up at me, and the dog leaps into her arms, playfully batting at her hair. “I found him,” she says quickly.
I take a deep breath. “And how did you find him?” I can feel it coming, which is why she’s being so vague.
“I was driving home, and I took the long way, you know, to see if anyone was following me, and I went down one of the gravel side streets and —”
“Shiloh, I don’t want you going down those streets. There are too many places you could be surprised. Stay on the main roads where there’s people.”
She purses her lips and lifts her brow.
I sigh heavily. “Please continue…”
“Thank you,” she says as if she’s the one exasperated.
“I was driving down one of the gravel roads and he just came out. I thought there was more, so I stopped and looked around the woods back there, but I only found him. But I'm worried I left his brothers and sisters out there, so maybe we should—”
I hold up a finger and pull my phone out of my pocket to dial animal control. “Hey Tom, it’s Ledger. I was notified about a puppy being found on…” I trail off and look at Shiloh, waiting for a road.
“500 West, 100 North,” she says.
I repeat the location.
“Alrighty, I’ll head out there. Do you have a description of the animal?” he asks.
I look at the dog. “Looks like maybe a litter of puppies, mutts, a cross between a shepherd and a sheepdog, if I had to guess.”
Tom hums. “That’s a good thing, I doubt they’ll stay at the pound for long.”
“I was told that others were searched for, but none were found. Could you take a look just in case?”
“Yep, got it no problem. It’s possible out there, something larger got to them, but I’ll take a look around.”
“Thanks, Tom.”
We hang up, and I toss my phone on the counter.
“Can we keep him?” Shiloh asks.
I knew it was coming. I knew she was going to ask, especially since I spot two dog bowls, a little bed, and some toys tucked in the corner, like she was hoping I wouldn’t notice them right away.
“Shy, I work so much I can’t properly take care of a dog, let alone a puppy,” I say, running my hands through my hair.
She pouts, her lower lip puffing out more. “Please? We’ll kennel train him, and then you can bring him to work with you because I can’t have him at the diner. But I could take him to the Wooden Cowboy and keep him in the break room. We can make it work. Please?” she asks.
I now understand how my father felt when my mother already bought the goats, and convinced a ranch hand to build her a temporary pen, then looked at my dad like it’s all she ever wanted in the world.
He caved immediately.
Now we’ve had goats for the past twenty years.
She looks up at me with those hazel eyes expectantly, and I hate myself already, but I’ve always wanted a dog.
“Did you take him to the vet?” I ask her. He probably has worms.
“No, but I gave him a bath and cleaned him up.”
“As long as he doesn’t have something going on … fine,” I mumble, or sigh, probably both.
“Really?” Shiloh says.
“Yes, but we’re going to call June to take a look at him.”
She squeals and leaps into my arms.
I take a step back bearing her weight, and she grabs my face, smooching her lips all over my face.
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I’ve always wanted a dog, but my dad basically said the same thing, and I couldn’t argue with him.”
I smile at her excitement, and her eyes sparkle. “You’re welcome.”
She stays in my arms, hands still on my face, and it softens something inside me. She’s like sandpaper to my rough edges.
Shiloh leans forward, smiling against my mouth, and I hold her tighter while the puppy wanders around my feet. She kisses me deeply this time, and I savor it, letting it wash over me. She hums into my mouth and I nip her bottom lip before she pulls away.
“Thank you,” she rasps.
I grunt and set her down.
She drops down to the puppy, and he leaps at her. “What are we going to name him?” she asks.
I stare at the dog. Like horses and other animals, certain names either fit them or they don’t. Dropping to my haunches, I coax him over to me and look at his paws. He’s going to be a big boy.
“That might be more your department,” I mumble. The puppy grabs my thumb, mouthing it.
He is cute. He has the coloring of a German Shepherd, but the fur of a Collie; it’s speckled here and there with white and black spots.
His ears are floppy, and his big brown eyes look up at me, and I can see the intelligence in them.
He stands on his hind legs, reaching for me. I pet him on his soft head and stand.
“How about Dozer?” I ask her.
She looks down at the dog, and he sits there calmly, his eyes drooping in the process.
“Why, Dozer?” she asks.
I shrug. “If he’s anything like the dogs on the ranch, he’s got endless energy and will bulldoze through anything.”
She scratches under his chin, and he looks up at her. “Okay, I like it. Dozer, it is.”
The dog’s eyes brighten. Looks like that was the right name.
June came over and checked out the dog, and other than being a little too starved, he should be alright. We just need to get him to put on some weight.
I made us dinner and fed Dozer some chicken and rice. He gobbled it up so fast I don’t think he chewed.
June happened to have a kennel in her truck, so we were able to get that set up with the little bed that Shiloh bought.
She lets him outside in the back, and while I wash the dishes. She runs around with the puppy, and he’s utterly enthralled with her.
When I showed Shiloh the foundation for my house, I was hoping she saw more than that. She was hard to read in the moment, but I wanted to know how she’d react to it. I didn’t say it was going to be our house.
But I could see it. When I started building the place, it was simply part of the plan to move back onto Hayes land.
Now I have Shiloh, and we’re already halfway there.
But she either didn’t put two and two together, or she’s telling me something without saying a word.
Meaning, she’s not interested in a future with me.
I try to ignore the sting of defeat and look at it this way. She might not be ready for, and I need to remember there is a very good reason for her to be slow to move forward with me. Though I hope it doesn’t include leaving me behind in the process.
They come in the door and I finish up the last dish, rinsing it and setting it in the rack to dry. I let the water out and finish rinsing out the sink, like I always do.
Shiloh gets Dozer into his kennel, and the dog yips in response.
I sigh to myself. Not all dogs like being kenneled, even if it’s what’s best for them. But some want to be by their person too.
“You’ll be okay. I promise,” she says, sticking her finger through the holes.
The dog licks one and looks at her like she’s going to leave him in there forever.
It’s time for bed, but we’ve barely had any time together, and I want to see where she’s at.
Things have changed between us, yet it still feels like we’re just roommates, and I don’t know what to do with that.
There have been some nights I find myself reaching on the other side of the bed for her, but she was never there to begin with.
Or maybe she’s giving me the hint and I’m too dense to see it.
“Hey, I meant to ask you if you heard anything about Grey,” she says.
I shake my head, still studying her.
“Oh, okay.”
“I know you don’t like checking in, but Shy, I’m begging you to call me, please,” I tell her.
She nods, still looking at the dog.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“For?”
“Letting me keep him.”
I look at the puppy who looks like he’s about to collapse from all the excitement of his day. The dog makes her happy, and I’ll do whatever I can to make her happy. Even if that means caring and training a dog I didn’t intend on having.
“You’re welcome.”
She stands up and rounds the island to me, placing both of her hands on my chest, and tilts her head up.
I stoop down, sweeping my mouth over hers. It’s lazy and slow. It’s comfortable, feels like we’ve been doing this for years now.
I’ll do it until my dying breath if I have my way.
She pulls away and rubs her thumb over my mustache. “I’m going to get ready for bed, got an early shift.”
I peck her on the lips and release her.
“Alright,” I mumble and watch her disappear.
Am I missing something? Or am I not taking the action she’s waiting for?
The door closes and I head to my room to get ready for bed, but I wish she was here with me.
It’s midnight. I should be asleep, but the dog won’t stop crying.
Sometimes they’re like babies and they have to cry it out, but it’s been an hour and he won’t give up.
Sighing, I get up and go to the dog, who immediately stops the moment he sees me. I take him outside to let him pee. Then put him back in his kennel. The moment I close my door, he starts up again. Wonderful.
I open my door to get him, but Shiloh throws hers open, muttering to herself. Hair flying, she stomps over to the dog, picks up the kennel, and waddles with it into her room. She sees me and huffs. “I’m sorry. Hopefully he’ll shut up now.”
I nod, and she closes her door a minute later.
Crawling back into bed, I'm almost asleep when he starts up again.
This is not going to work.
I groan and turnover, then he stops, and my door flies open.
Shiloh stands there with Dozer still in his crate and a dazed look on her face. “He won’t shut up.”
“I’m aware,” I mutter.
She sets the kennel down, and the dog looks at both of us. Then he circles in his bed a few times and drops down, satisfied with the new arrangement.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she mumbles.
Exhausted yet thoroughly entertained, she huffs and doesn’t say a word to me and leaves my room, closing the door behind her.
Curious what he’ll do, he looks at me and starts howling again.
“Shy, I think he wants you in here too.”
My door opens and she stomps in there with a blanket and throws herself onto my bed.
Then she stops. “Is this okay?” she asks.
I nod and push back the covers.
She wiggles under them and gets herself settled. It’s not like she hasn’t been in my bed before. Only we weren’t doing a lick of sleeping.
“That dog is smarter than I thought.”
Shiloh opens her eyes and stares at me. “Maybe he is.”
I lay back and hold my arm open, hoping she’ll take the invitation. My heart settles when she snuggles up to me and rests her head on my chest.
Right where she’s meant to be.