Summer’s End (Summer #1)

Chapter 1

Someone was knocking on the door.

Oh, perfect. Molly was on her hands and knees in the kitchen scrubbing the floor; hot, dirty, and looking a mess, she did not need company.

And who could that possibly be? Her cabin was down a dead-end dirt road with a closed gate.

Anyone who needed to reach her would call her cell.

No one ever came to her door. She’d spilled a pitcher of syrup that morning and mopped it up, but the floor was still sticky when she came home from work, so there she was with a pan of hot, soapy water and a stiff brush.

She stood up, reluctant to answer the door.

First, she looked like a train wreck, tired from a rough day at work.

On the schedule were a hot shower and a cold beer by the lake.

Second, she lived alone in an isolated setting and didn’t like strangers at her door.

And this would be a stranger. Any friends or employees would have called.

The second round of knocks got her moving.

Better check it out. They were polite raps, but the second set was a little louder.

She moved quietly, pulling the loaded pistol out of the drawer in the stand by the door, and peering out her discreet peephole.

It was a man. A mountain man. A man she’d seen before at the resort but only from a distance.

A very hunky mountain man. She’d definitely noticed that part.

She’d never seen him in the store or restaurant.

He was usually with a loaded mule and a handsome German Shepherd.

What was he doing at her door? He’d knocked twice and backed down off the steps so he was standing in the yard. That suggested he didn’t want his presence to be threatening. Molly slipped the gun back in the drawer and opened the door, stepping out on her porch.

“Can I help you?”

That was when she saw Shadow, her own German Shepherd, sitting respectfully behind the man next to his dog.

Two beautiful German Shepherds sitting politely side by side.

Molly’s heart sank. Crap. She knew exactly why he was at her door.

How could this have possibly happened? Normally, Shadow would have run to her, but she was choosing to sit next to her new friend.

“I’m very sorry to bother you.” His voice was masculine but non-threatening. He seemed genuinely sorry to be there. “I see you’re living behind a gate so you’re probably not expecting people at your door.”

“That’s right.” She was neither friendly nor unfriendly. She knew why he was there but asked anyway. “What’s up?”

“Our dogs have become friends.”

“I can see that.” Molly was upset but tried not to show it. It wasn’t the man’s fault. She hadn’t done right by Shadow. She’d tried so hard to protect her from exactly this situation and she’d failed. Utterly failed. Double crap.

“Did you see them?”

“I’m afraid so. I was tending to business down at the corral and not paying attention to Bear. When I looked around, he was gone. I asked, and a girl pointed down a trail so I went looking for him, calling his name. It’s very unusual for Bear to not respond when I call him.”

“Oh boy. What were they doing when you saw them?”

“They were locked up.”

Triple crap. When dogs were tied, it maximized the chances of conception. She said politely with a smile, “The correct term is tied.”

“Tied?”

“Yes, it’s a breeding term for dogs.”

“Well, then, they were tied. It looked very uncomfortable to me. Glad it doesn’t work like that with humans.”

She chuckled. How could she laugh at a time like this? “Yeah, think about the female.”

“Ouch.” Then he got serious. “I’m really sorry. I had no idea your dog was even around. If she’s in heat, Bear would have picked that up a mile away and gone to investigate.”

“She’s definitely in heat. I have an appointment this week to have her bred.”

Mountain man didn’t know what to do with that. Finally, “I’m really sorry.”

She walked down the steps and knelt in front of Shadow, giving her a good scruff. “You’ve been a very bad girl, do you know that?” Shadow didn’t seem unhappy.

She then turned to Bear. “And you’ve been a very bad boy.” She gave Bear a scruff, and ran her hands along the beautiful dog’s neck and back, and around to the chest. He was a magnificent animal. No wonder Shadow was interested. She had excellent taste in everything.

Molly was tired and ready for her shower and beer, but her visitor had information she needed, and she was embarrassed to ask about it right now, so her invitation just rolled out.

“It looks like our dogs want to be together. I was about to have a beer. Would you like to join me?”

He looked surprised, then nodded, “Sure.”

“If you want to take the dogs around the cabin, there are a couple Adirondacks by the lake. The dogs can play there while we keep our eyes on them. I’ll grab some beers and meet you there.”

With that, Molly returned to the house. She realized she hadn’t introduced herself and she didn’t know the guy’s name.

Well, they could take care of that when she returned.

She went to her bathroom to wash up and comb her hair.

No need for makeup, it wasn’t a date. She slipped on a clean blouse and fussed in front of the mirror for a few minutes.

He was handsome and sexy, and she hadn’t been laid for a while, so she could feel the tingling in the right places.

What was there not to like about tall, lean, muscular, and very western.

But something didn’t fit the image. He was a curious mix.

There were certainly strong elements of cowboy: the dark, tanned, outdoor skin, long, black hair shaggy over the ears, a week’s worth of heavy beard.

And the worn blue jeans, buckle belt, western shirt, and vest with silver buttons.

Yes, very cowboy. The parts that suggested mountain man were the hat, vest, and moccasins, all leather, and all handmade.

But most mountain men had a harder edge: poor grammar, unsightly teeth, shaggy grooming, more crude mannerisms. This man had the rugged outdoor look but with a refined finish.

Was it just the piercing blue eyes and perfect white teeth?

No, he spoke like an educated man—complete sentences, proper grammar, articulate.

That was the difference; an air of refinement in a rustic package.

Hmm, an unusual combination. She gave herself a final once over in the mirror and headed to the kitchen, gathering her supplies from the floor. She could finish the clean up later.

She put six beers in a cooler with ice. She was planning to drink at least two, so she might as well be prepared.

She debated on a platter but decided against. She threw in a wedge of cheese, a round of salami, and a knife and plate just in case.

She could always make it there. She was in the mood for a cold beer and it was late Saturday afternoon, just in time for happy hour.

She walked out the back door and down the path to where he was sitting in one of her chairs with a view of the lake.

The dogs were running around, but still visible.

Molly wasn’t going to let Shadow out of her sight again.

Geez, how did this happen the very week she was scheduled for her first breeding session?

She plopped down in the chair next to her guest.

“I’m Molly McGuire.” She extended her hand.

“Bart McKinnon.” He shook her hand.

“How’s Brett?”

“You’re going to laugh.”

“Why?”

“My brother’s name actually is Brett.”

“Your parents watched Maverick.”

“My grandparents watched the originals. My parents watched the reruns. Brett and I paid the price.”

She reached in the cooler and pulled out two Republic IPAs, popping the top off both, and handed one to Bart.

Molly lifted her bottle for a toast, “To Bear and Shadow.”

The bottle necks clinked and they both took deep drinks. Then Molly took another long, deep drink. She was hot, tired, and needed separation from work. Her bottle half empty, she noticed his was the same. Glad she brought three bottles.

He pointed to the dogs. Molly looked over to see a lot of sniffing. Oh boy, they were ready again.

Her voice was stern, “Shadow, come here.”

Shadow looked at her master with pleading eyes that said, “Please, master, not now. I’m busy.”

Molly repeated the command, and Shadow obediently came over and sat next to her. Molly turned to Bart, “Sorry to have to ask this, but does Bear have papers by chance?”

Bart chuckled. “Well, I don’t have them, and I don’t know what they say but, yes, he has papers somewhere.”

“Did you get papers when you bought him?”

“Didn’t really buy him.”

“How’d you get him?”

“He was a trade with my sister.”

“Okay, can you tell me about it?”

“What do you want to know?”

“I just want to know everything that got said.”

He put the bottle up and emptied it, and Molly did the same, pulling out two more beers, popping the tops and handing him one.

“You want the verbatim?”

“Mainly, I want to know what she said.”

“Okay, well, it went something like this.”

Molly was having a good time now. The beer was doing its job. Or was it the hunky guy?

He started the story, “Hey, Bart, what do you want for the paint?”

Molly started laughing. “Okay, hold it right there. What’s your sister’s name?”

“Kitty.”

Molly burst into a fit of laughter, managing to gasp, “Your folks watched Gunsmoke too?”

Bart was chuckling, she guessed at her outburst. “So, do you want to hear the story?”

“No, I just have to know. Do you have any other brothers and sisters?”

“One more sister.”

“And, what’s her name?”

“Cheyenne.”

And, at that, Molly totally lost it. She almost fell out of her chair laughing.

He was chuckling, “Are you having a good time?”

“I just knew her name was going to be Cheyenne. Let me see: Brett, Bart, Kitty, and Cheyenne.” All prominent names from old TV westerns.

“Do you want to hear the story?”

“Just one more thing. Where is this conversation happening between you and Kitty?”