“Perfect?” Garrick echoed Rain, only with a lot more skepticism. He wasn’t sure which set of pleading big brown eyes was worse, Cookie’s or Rain’s.
“Yes. She likes you. And you don’t have any other pets, right? No one else to ask permission from? It’s perfect.”
“Sure, no other pets and I live alone, but she’s scared of me.”
“Oh, at first, maybe.” Rain waved this concern away with a flick of his long elegant fingers.
“She’s a sweetie,” the vet added, nodding along. “A few more biscuits and head scratches, and she’ll be your new best friend. A lot of dogs are skittish around wheelchairs at first, but then they warm up.”
“Maybe so, and I’m not unsympathetic to her situation.” He really wasn’t, and the old him would have likely given in to the twin set of puppy-dog eyes directed his way. “However, in case you didn’t notice, I’m kinda...mobility impaired these days. And unlike Shirley’s, my backyard is hardly suitable for a dog.”
“I have an answer for that.” Rain held up a hand, stopping Garrick’s list of reasons why this was a bad idea.
“Somehow I’m not surprised.”
“As good as she listens, I’m going to bet she’s at least somewhat housebroken. I can come walk her twice a day. And help you dog-proof today. I’ll give you my cell—you can call if she has an accident or spills water or something and you need me.”
“I’m not sure—”
“I’d take the bet on her being housebroken,” the vet said, voice as coaxing as Rain’s. “I can have Lydia give you a bag of kibble to get started, and I’ll prorate our services for the wound cleanup.”
“Just until the owner is found?” Neck muscles tensing, Garrick already knew he was beat.
“Yup.” Rain nodded like the Blazers bobblehead Garrick kept in the truck he hadn’t driven in months.
“Only the weekend,” Garrick allowed. “And we’ll try hard to find her owners or a more permanent place for her.”
“Deal.” Rain grinned widely, and damn, that was the kind of smile that Garrick would promise a heck of a lot more than canine babysitting for. Warmth spread across Garrick’s chest as Rain continued, “What do you say we find the pet store?”
“Ha.” Garrick had to laugh again at his big city assumptions. “We don’t even have any of the big box stores in town. But the feed store will have food and stuff.”
“Good. And maybe a bed—”
“The weekend. Only,” Garrick reminded him.
“Sounds like we have a plan.” The vet hustled them to the front before Garrick could offer more protests. He paid the nominal fee while the vet tech presented him with meds and a small sack of kibble. Judging by how hungry Cookie looked, he figured that wouldn’t last more than a feeding or two.
“Add more chow to the list,” he told Rain on the way to the car. “Same brand if possible. We don’t want to overly shock her system.”
“You know dogs?” As before, Rain hung back, letting Garrick transfer himself to the car before taking care of loading up the wheelchair and dog.
“Oh yeah. Like I said, my friends have a trio now. And growing up, we had a sweet little terrier with a fickle stomach. Mom took her in the divorce.” The memory made his stomach churn, even all these years later. “Then Dad got a cranky beagle who ate like a goat.” That memory was easier, and he made himself laugh, keep his voice light. Rain didn’t need to hear about his family drama. “Now he’s got two old grumpy farm dogs who tolerate horses far better than humans or other dogs. I’m not an expert or anything, but I’ve been around them plenty.”
“Good. A lot of people get scared of big black dogs like her. I don’t get it, but I’ve seen people cross the street to avoid certain breeds.”
“Like your grandma. But before you go pleading Cookie’s case to me again, I’m sure there’s a home somewhere out there for her.” Not Garrick. He couldn’t afford the distraction of a permanent pet, not when he needed all his focus for his recovery, and not when he wasn’t sure what kind of life he could provide himself, let alone an animal.
“Fair enough.” Rain sounded neither convinced nor like he was going to drop the subject more than temporarily. “Now, tell me how to get to this farm store place.”
Garrick gave the directions to the feed store a couple of blocks over. As Rain drove, Garrick fished out his wallet, emptied his cash. “Tell you what. Cookie and I will wait in the car. You’ve got a sixty-eight dollar budget to get her set for the weekend.”
“That might be enough for chow and a cheap bed,” Rain said happily, almost dancing in his seat, and damn if making him happy wasn’t fun and worth parting with the money.
“Try to get a few toys too. I don’t want her chewing my couch.”
“You’ve got it.” Rain deftly parked next to a line of pickups at the farm store. He opened the windows before he shut off the SUV. “You sure you don’t want to come in? It’s no problem getting your chair out and we can crack all the windows for Cookie.”
“Nah.” Garrick wasn’t about to explain that simply this amount of exertion had done him in for a while. Damn he missed his stamina. “She needs me to keep her company. You have fun. If you can’t find something, Morty at customer service is a friend of my dad’s. Great guy. He’ll help you track down the chow or whatever.”
And maybe that too was why he was staying put. He didn’t need another round of questioning from well-meaning folks who’d known him his whole life, sympathy a double-edged sword he’d had far too much of the past several months. But it turned out there was no escaping his life as not even five minutes after Rain walked away, he heard a familiar voice.
“Nelson? Been a long time, man.” Jimenez, one of his fellow smoke jumpers, came striding over, pretty blonde in skintight jeans trailing behind him. He was one of the rookies—
Wait. Not a rookie anymore. The new season was about to start. Jimenez would be an old hand by now, working all the fires Garrick had missed after the accident, all the jumps and climbs and everything else he missed with all his soul but couldn’t show. Keep it light, he reminded himself.
“Hey there. Yeah, been a while. How’s it going? Getting lots of jumps in? Heard you did some tourist work in the off-season.”
“You know it. Gotta get my air time.” Slinging an arm around his companion, Jimenez gave him an easy smile that faded into something approaching concern. “We miss you, man. Feels weird gearing up for the season without you. What’s the latest word on when you’ll be back at it?”
Wish I knew. Garrick swallowed hard. “Hopefully not long. I’m working hard at PT. Putting my reps in. Finally back home at my own place. Progress, you know?”
“That’s great.” Jimenez’s voice was just this side of too hearty. “You keep at it. Chin up. I’m sure they’re saving a spot for you. And if you need anything, anything at all, you call me.”
Call me. Everyone said it, but he was never sure how much people meant it. Like he and Jimenez had never hung out off-duty before the accident. Was he supposed to call him for a favor now? Did the guy really want to fetch Garrick some groceries or was he simply being nice? Not knowing made Garrick frustrated with these sorts of offers, but he couldn’t show it, could only nod. “Thanks.”
“Okay, dog stuff obtained!” Rain came striding toward the car, wide smile still in place as he pushed a cart with a big bag of chow and a fluffy pet bed a ridiculous shade of bubblegum pink. Some of his hair had come loose, curls spilling down his face. In the sunlight, the shimmer on his shirt was more evident, making him look ready for clubbing, not a farm store.
And Jimenez, the worst gossip on the crew, went all bug-eyed. “You getting a dog?”
“Meet Cookie. She’s temporary. And this is Rain. My neighbor.” Garrick refused to get flustered over any assumptions Jimenez wanted to make. And it wasn’t like Jimenez, who had a well-earned rep as the worst sort of love-them-and-leave-them player, was in any position to judge who Garrick hung around with.
“Ah. Gotcha.” Jimenez shook Rain’s hand before his companion tugged on his arm, reminding him of their errand for flowers. “We’ll catch up later. And I mean it, Nelson. You call me. Can’t wait to see you back out there.”
“Me too.” Garrick nodded even as he knew the chances of him calling Jimenez were slim. And as for getting back on the crew...well, he was trying. Every damn day. A little further. A little faster. He’d hadn’t come this far to fail.
“Sorry if I cut short your conversation with your friend,” Rain said as he loaded his purchases next to Cookie.
“Nah. It’s okay. I’m sure he needed to get on with his day.”
“Is it...” Rain started to ask something then trailed off as he slid behind the wheel.
“Is what?”
“Nothing. I was going to ask if it was hard, being around other smoke jumpers right now, then realized that was really nosy of me.”
“It’s okay. You can ask me about the accident. I’m not gonna bite your head off for asking questions.” Garrick might be crankier these days, but he was still himself, still happy to talk to almost anyone and wasn’t one to make certain topics taboo, even if he’d rather listen to his dad discuss the minutiae of new horse tack than recount that day of the accident. And as to Rain’s specific question, he had to pause, flip response at the ready. But strangely what came out was closer to the truth. “And sometimes. I mean, I love seeing my buddies. But yeah...sometimes it’s...different.”
Different. That was it. Not hard precisely, although it could be that too, but different. Changed. And he hated it even as he tried to ignore those feelings, the jumble of emotions better left shoved in the crawlspaces of his psyche, not strewn about for public consumption.
“I bet.” Rain’s look was sympathetic, but he didn’t press, instead backing out of the space and heading toward their neighborhood without needing further directions. He was a quick study, something Garrick appreciated in a person. Perceptive too, not continuing down that line of conversation. “Is it okay if I park in your driveway while we unload?”
“Of course.” Speaking of ignoring things, Garrick tried to squelch the weird mix of anticipation and dread at the prospect of having Rain in his space. A million years ago, he would have known exactly what to do with his Saturday, wouldn’t have had dog-proofing remotely on the agenda, and would have needed a cutie like Rain for far sexier purposes. Different. That was his life now and there was nothing served by dwelling on the less-than-fun parts. All he could do was go forward. He’d make the best of this situation with the dog, same as he did any other. And if that meant enjoying Rain’s company a little longer...well, he was only human, after all.
As they unloaded in the driveway, Garrick’s demeanor had a certain stiffness that hadn’t been there earlier—lines around his mouth, hunched shoulders—and Rain hated it. He should have known better than to bring up unhappy topics. But he’d seen how tense Garrick was around his fellow smoke jumper. Watching them, his chest had pinched in an unfamiliar way. At first he’d wondered if perhaps it was he himself who had Garrick on edge—the whole dude bro thing of not wanting to look like he was on a date or otherwise entangled with another person of the masculine variety. And Rain hadn’t missed Jimenez’s blatantly speculative gaze. But then when Garrick had easily made introductions but still been oddly stilted, he’d figured that it was probably Jimenez’s sympathy and offer of help. It had to be tough on Garrick, not being able to be out there with his crew.
If Garrick was a friend, Rain would know better what to say, how to distract him or get him to open up, and would be able to tell which he needed more. Not knowing made him want to try harder to get Garrick smiling again.
“Wait till you see the toys I picked for her. I found a clearance bin with some fun items,” he said as he positioned the wheelchair for Garrick. A couple of years prior, his parents had had a close friend who used a wheelchair, so Rain had some experience unfolding the device. However, Paula had needed more help transferring, and it was hard not to hover as Garrick completed the maneuver.
“I’m more concerned with why she needs a pink fluffy bed.”
“Everyone needs a pink fluffy bed.” He grinned as he let the dog out of the back seat. “And I know, I know, the pink undoubtedly doesn’t go with your style, but it’s part of a plan I’ve got.”
“I’m listening.” Garrick spared a pat for Cookie before heading up the ramp to his porch, leaving Rain to follow with Cookie’s new loot.
“I want to take some more pictures of her, both to find her owner, and if that doesn’t work, to get her a forever home. And I was thinking about how to make her look less scary and decided to make her a pretty, pretty pink princess. Like lean into all the gendered stuff, but in a fun way that makes her seem more approachable. Pink sparkly collar, pink bed, unicorn chew toy...”
“If it gets her a home.” Garrick didn’t seem too put out as he unlocked the door, which was nice. “And if you had fun picking it out, then that’s cool.”
“Trust me. I’m jealous of the bed. And the collar.” For a second, Rain forgot that he wasn’t in Portland, wasn’t around friends who understood him, but whatever. He wasn’t making any apologies for liking what he liked. And instead of looking disgusted, Garrick looked...speculative. And wasn’t that interesting?
“Not everyone can pull off sparkles.” With a welcome laugh, Garrick ushered them into a small living area.
“Some of us never outgrew our princess phase.” He winked at Garrick before looking around. Like at Grandma’s house, the space was an upside-down L-shape with living room and dining room in a line with a sliding glass door to the backyard beyond the dining room and a kitchen to the side. But whereas Grandma’s kitchen was walled off, art clutter on every available surface in the older house, Garrick’s home was recently remodeled with the kitchen open to the rest of the space, clean ivory walls and light wood cabinets and floors making it look far bigger than Grandma’s.
“Did you do the remodel yourself? This is really nice.”
“Most of it, yeah. Got a great deal on the house because it hadn’t been touched since it was built. Still had the original avocado-colored countertops and walnut cabinets with gold carpet everywhere. I worked a couple of winters for a home store in Bend, got some good discounts on materials and got lucky with some friends who could help. Demo was hella fun, bashing everything in.” Garrick got a wistful expression on his face, making Rain worry they were heading into uncomfortable memory territory again, but then he shook his head, as if making a conscious choice to reach for something happy. “Man, that work party for the backyard was epic too. Come on, I’ll show you why it’s not the best for a dog.”
Still holding Cookie’s leash, Rain followed him to the glass doors. Like Garrick’s front yard, which was mainly concrete and artful use of rock and gravel, the backyard didn’t have any grass, instead consisting of a wide patio that ran the whole length of the house, multiple seating areas, a hot tub, a firepit, and several raised beds and trellis structures with hearty-looking plants.
“Wow. Forget the work party, you must have epic parties period. This is the most entertaining-friendly space I’ve seen outside of the common areas at the cohousing community where I grew up, and those are more functional—lots of vegetable gardens and benches—but this is begging for some drinks and a dude on a guitar.”
“Yeah. I’ve had more than a few of those gatherings.” Garrick’s toothy grin radiated pride. “We work long, unpredictable hours as smoke jumpers, so I wanted a really chill, low-maintenance space for hanging out. Only drought-resistant plants and no grass. Sorry, Cookie.”
“I think she’ll be okay. There’s a patch of dirt over there. If she has to come back here in a pinch, I’ll clean for you. Otherwise, I’ll do the walks like we talked about. Now, let’s see the rest of the place, things she could get into, maybe see where you want to keep her at night. I thought about a crate, but I wasn’t sure how you felt about crate training.”
“It works for puppies, but I can probably keep her with me, honestly.” Backing up, Garrick rolled down a short hallway near the kitchen. He sounded exactly like a dog-loving guy who could be Cookie’s forever home if he’d only give it a chance. Garrick pushed open the door to a larger-than-expected bedroom.
“You took out the third bedroom and added a slider to the patio,” Rain guessed. The room was about double the size of Grandma’s and dominated by a large bed. It had to be one of those adjustable kinds because the head on one side was raised. A hanging metal triangle for getting up and a wheeled tray table added to the functional vibe—not a ton of color or art outside a tie-dyed duvet cover he recognized as one of Grandma’s designs, and a large plant in the corner by the door, but it had a well-lived-in vibe, complete with a gas fireplace that Rain dug.
“Yeah, we bashed in the wall to the smallest bedroom. I really only needed two rooms, one for sleeping and one as an office-slash-gym, and getting a king-size bed to fit was a priority when planning the bachelor pad of my dreams.”
“Bachelor dream house, huh?” Rain was trying to not be too nosy, but it was hard when he was so curious. “Never tempted to do the whole family thing?”
Another storm cloud crossed Garrick’s face. Damn it. Rain had stepped in it again.
“I was engaged. Million years ago, feels like it. Nice woman. Loved her pink and sparkles, so you and Cookie would have approved.”
“I’m sure.” Rain sent a quick wish out to the universe that the past tense didn’t mean this was a super tragic story.
“Anyway, she and her glitter-loving self moved to LA. Just couldn’t stand country life any longer. And me... I got pretty damn good at the whole bachelor life thing.”
“Damn. That sucks.” So, not a tragedy, but still he felt for Garrick’s younger self. Even if he was playing it lightly, Rain could sense his underlying tension. It had to have hurt. And the existence of an ex-fiancée was, if not definitive proof, strong evidence that he was as straight as Rain had originally assumed, speculative look notwithstanding.
“How about you? Oh wait. You’re like what? Twenty?” Garrick laughed. And there he went, dismissing Rain as a kid again. Rain couldn’t help bristling.
“Twenty-three. I look young, I know.”
“It’s the hair and cheeks,” Garrick teased. “You’re going to be one of those people who gets carded at forty.”
“Not much I can do there. And to answer the question, I’ve dated. Not a ton, but some. No engagements.” He was deliberately gender neutral, not particularly feeling like coming out, but also he was never very good at hiding it very long. Garrick would undoubtedly figure out that Rain marched to a rainbow beat sooner rather than later if he hadn’t already.
“Good. You’ve got all the time in the world to wait on that stuff. Have fun. Play the field.”
“You make it sound like you’re ancient.”
“Nah. But...my partying days are likely behind me.”
“With that backyard? Hardly.” Rain still wasn’t entirely sure about the extent of Garrick’s injuries, but he didn’t see any reason why his social life should take a nosedive.
“Yeah. We’ll see what the summer brings.” Garrick made a dismissive gesture. “So, do you think if we bring Cookie’s bed in here and put it in the corner, she’ll stay if I shut the door at night?”
“It’s worth a try. And I’m a night owl. If she starts howling or something, I could come back.” He tried to keep the offer from sounding flirty by patting Cookie at the same time. “No people bed for you, you hear? I’d say the biggest risk is you tripping on her in the middle of the night with the crutches, so maybe leave a light on?”
“That’s smart.” Garrick rubbed his shaggy hair. “That’s my worry too. She was scared of the crutches earlier though, so maybe she’ll stay back. You see anything in here she might eat? Guess I should have you move the plant to the deck.”
“I can do that.” Rain dragged the plant out the sliding door before studying the rest of the room, which didn’t even have as much as a throw rug out of place. “And you’re remarkably clean—no socks for her to eat on the floor or things like that.”
“Well I have to keep a clear floor for the crutches and the wheelchair. My dad helps, and he found me a service that’s doing some cleaning too. I stayed with him for a while after the hospital and rehab facility, but I really missed my own place.”
“That’s cool. I’ve always lived with family or roommates, but I’d be ready to be home too. It’s just different being in someone else’s space.”
“Exactly. I know my dad worries about me falling or something, but I’m happier here.”
“I feel you both. And I know you’re worried about tripping on Cookie or one of her belongings. We’ll stash the bed out of the way, and I bet we could train Cookie to pick up her toys if you point to them.”
“The weekend. She is staying the weekend,” Garrick reminded him, but his tone was less firm than it had been at the vet’s.
“Yes, yes. Still bet I can teach her before I leave. Let me find the biscuits and the toys.”
Forget his pretty pink adoptable princess plan, Rain was totally going to convince him to keep the dog if the owner couldn’t be found. The guy seemed a little at loose ends, like his grandma had when she’d first decided to stop traveling and buy the house, and before she’d adopted Mimi and Molly as a bonded pair of siblings. They could be little demons, but they gave Grandma a structured routine that she seemed to need, the same way chores at the cohousing community kept people engaged and involved. People needed to be needed, even if they didn’t always realize it, and Rain was going to prove to Garrick that he and Cookie were meant to be together. After all, Rain himself was swimming in free time until he could sort out his employment situation. He could spare the time to play canine matchmaker.