“Looks like the wrecker beat us here,” Logan murmured when he took Darcy home on Monday after work. “Did they know where to take your car?”
“Red’s. I talked to Red this morning, and he said he could at least check it over by tomorrow afternoon. He’s going to drop off a loaner car after he gets done for the day. Just in case it doesn’t come in time, Mrs. Spencer said she would drop Emma off after six.”
“You’ve got one whole hour of freedom.” He grinned at her. “So, what would you like to do?”
“I’ll be prying up more pieces of that old linoleum in the kitchen. I figure at an hour every day, I’ll be done in 2025. Easy.”
“Perfect. Let’s go in so I can help.”
“Oh, no,” she protested. “All of that prying and tugging can’t be good for your shoulder. Anyway, I’m saving you for when the floors are all done so you can help me do the cabinets and countertops.”
He followed her into the house anyhow, on the pretext of taking another look at the kitchen layout, but soon joined her on his hands and knees, shoving a scraper under the stubborn, brittle old flooring.
A wonderful aroma was emanating from a Crock-Pot on the counter, and he thought he detected the sweet scent of apple pie. If Darcy invited him to stay for supper, he definitely wouldn’t be saying no.
“The bedrooms are both done, and the old wood flooring is beautiful,” she said, blowing a lock of hair out of her eyes. “I thought of doing the living room next but decided to get the worst part over with. Isn’t this fun?”
“Well worth the effort, though.” He shoved his scraper under another piece of flooring that abruptly released and sent a small missile zinging across the room.
“It sure feels like it when you hit a spot where someone didn’t go crazy with the glue.” She sat back on her heels, grabbed a rubber band from the counter, and pulled her thick, wavy hair into a haphazard ponytail. “You can’t imagine my elation when an entire two-foot-square section came off like a breeze. Best thing ever.”
With what Darcy had already done on her own, they reached the middle of the room by the time Emma came home.
“That’s it—I’m done,” she announced. “Who wants supper?”
Just as he’d hoped, there was a beef roast in the Crock-Pot with tender whole potatoes, carrots and onions. The rich gravy surrounding it all was redolent with garlic and seasonings he couldn’t name.
And after that came the pie. Wonderful pie.
The flaky, buttery crust sparkling with sugar crystals was perfection, the cinnamon-laced apples inside tender with just the right amount of juiciness.
“Thank you,” he said when Darcy handed him a cup of coffee. He turned to Emma. “If I’ve ever had a better meal, I can’t remember it. Your mom is an amazing cook.”
Emma nodded. “I like macaroni better.”
He hid a smile, remembering the neon-orange boxed macaroni of his childhood. “I’ll bet that’s good, too.”
“We put lots of cheese in it, and crunchy stuff on the top.”
“Those are buttery bread crumbs, Emma,” Darcy said with a laugh. “Do you remember what else we use? You always help.”
Emma’s face scrunched into a frown. “Um...brown noodles.”
“Whole wheat pasta.”
“And...?”
“White stuff.”
“A white sauce, with extra seasoning. Good job remembering, sweetie. Maybe you can help make it for Dr. Maxwell someday.”
Not boxed macaroni and cheese. Homemade. He found himself wishing he could join them every day, instead of facing meat on the grill and a salad at his place, alone, week after week. “I would love that, Emma.”
“Mommy would like that, too. And she really likes your horses.” Emma nodded solemnly as she glanced between her mom and him, then brightened. “Maybe you could even be my daddy.”
“Emma!” Darcy shot a mortified, warning look at her daughter, high color rising to her cheekbones.
The little matchmaker looked back at her, clearly mystified at why her mother was upset. “But you said—”
“I’m not sure what you think I said, but I have never alluded to anything of the sort, and you just can’t start asking guests something like that.”
“What’s looded?”
“Alluded. I didn’t say...” Darcy made a small noise of frustration, but now her mouth was twitching as she tried to suppress a smile. “It’s just that these things are between adults.”
“Sienna has a daddy. And she gots a playhouse, too.” Emma sat back in her chair, her lower lip thrust out in a pout, clearly thinking that Sienna had gotten a much better deal.
Ah, yes. The playhouse. Logan and his tomboy sister had grown up making forts up in the hayloft and ramshackle tree houses out in the cattle pastures with their cousins. But in a little girl’s world in the Midwest, apparently playhouses were the ultimate prize.
Emma pushed her plate away. “Can I go now?”
“Yes, you may be excused.” Darcy leaned out of her chair and caught her as she headed for the living room and gave her a hug. “Hannah says we can go back again tonight to see the puppies. Would you like that?”
“Yes!” All of her woes instantly forgotten, Emma threw her arms around her mother’s neck and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Now? Can we go now?”
“Dishes in the dishwasher first, and then we can go as soon as we get the loaner car.”
Logan cleared the table while Darcy rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. “We should go together. I can drive, and I’d like to go out there anyway to check on Cedar.”
“That poor, sweet dog. She probably has some ulcers under all of that matted fur.”
He nodded. “Hannah was going to bring her in this afternoon, but she had some sort of emergency at the hospital.”
Emma pulled her shoes on at the speed of light and waited at the door. “I’m ready!”
All the way to Hannah’s house she chattered nonstop, which precluded any other conversation.
“Sorry about that,” Darcy said as they all got out of the truck.
“It’s actually a revelation, discovering how much a four-year-old can talk.”
The final wisps of sweet-smelling pine smoke drifted upward from the ashes in a metal fire ring in the backyard, scenting the air as they walked back to the barn behind Hannah’s house.
Darcy shot an amused glance at him as they stepped inside the barn. “I remember rocking Emma as a baby, longing for the day when she could talk and tell me what she was thinking. Then she hit two, and hasn’t stopped talking since.”
Emma coughed as she made a beeline for Bonnie’s cage. Darcy knelt beside her, quietly talking to her about caring for a dog.
Emma coughed again.
Logan went on to Cedar’s pen and felt his heart grow heavy when he found the cage empty. The pile of soft blankets in the corner was missing, and even the feed and water bowls were gone.
Apparently Cedar hadn’t made it.
“I should’ve taken her to the clinic when we were here last,” he muttered, feeling a sense of loss. It had been three years since he’d lost his dog, and he’d never been able to bring himself to buy another.
He’d seen Cedar for only a short time, yet when her soulful eyes had made that long connection with his, he’d simply known that he had to take her home.
Darcy looked up as he moved on to look at the other dogs, then the puppies. “Did you say something?”
“No...”
“It’s been just a few days since we were here, but Bonnie already looks a little better, don’t you think?”
The yellow lab was pressed against the front of her pen, wagging her tail, her attention focused on Emma. “Definitely a brighter affect.”
“Hey, guys,” Hannah called from the doorway. “Sorry I’m late. We roasted marshmallows after supper, and then I had to help with homework. I’ve got someone for Logan to see, but I can’t bring her down here. Brace yourself. She looks far worse now.”
He followed Hannah to the garage, where she kept an isolation pen.
His heart lifted when he saw Cedar curled up in a ball on fresh blankets. The heavy, tangled mats of hair had been clipped away, revealing ulcerations where the mats had pulled relentlessly at her skin. She had bald patches, as well.
“Besides everything else, the poor thing had the start of mange, as you can see,” Hannah said unnecessarily. “I’ve seen it before, so when I started to clip her and discovered it, I took her up here to the isolation pen right away and disinfected everything she might have touched with bleach water. She had her first dip with a scabicide this evening, but from now on I’ll do it weekly for a month.”
“It’s good you caught it.” Logan looked down at the miserable dog, who had yet to lift her head at the sound of the voices nearby. “I’d like to bring her back to the clinic tonight to check this out under a microscope, if it’s all right with you.”
“Absolutely fine. Do whatever you need to do while she’s there. I’ve got a kennel that you can borrow to put in the back of your truck.”
“And...I’d rather not bring her back.”
Hannah’s eyes widened. “What?”
He smiled, remembering the depth of trust and intelligence in Cedar’s golden-brown eyes when she’d finally responded to him the last time he’d been here. “Whatever the adoption fee is, I’ll pay you right now. She’s found her forever home with me.”
* * *
Darcy scooped Emma into her arms and searched her pale face, then hurried through Hannah’s yard. Once again she caught the scent of smoke, and again she felt a surge of trepidation when Emma broke into another spasm of coughing.
She stepped through the open back door of the garage and found Hannah and Logan deep in conversation on canine vaccinations.
She sank onto a folding chair with Emma in her lap. Now her coughing was tight. Wheezy. “I need my purse, now. Is the truck locked?”
“No.” Logan glanced at them both. Then his eyes widened in alarm. He bolted out of the garage and returned in a moment with her purse. “Is everything in here?”
Hannah was a physician’s assistant and had been down this road before. “Here, I’ll find it.”
She dug through the purse and found the clear plastic bag with Emma’s asthma supplies, attached a clear plastic spacer to the quick-relief inhaler and placed it into Darcy’s waiting palm.
Darcy shook it a couple times and depressed the top button. “Okay...big breath out...now a deeeep breath in—that’s right. Hold it... Good. And another... Good girl.”
Emma sagged against her, still pale, but in a few minutes the wheezing was lessening. Darcy rubbed her back in slow, comforting motions. “You’ll be fine. Everything is fine.”
Logan pulled up a folding chair next to her. “Hey, punkin, are you feeling better?”
Emma nodded almost imperceptibly, though Darcy knew how much even a light episode scared her. Who wouldn’t panic if it was so hard to breathe?
“I’m so sorry—I wasn’t even thinking when I let the kids have their little fire for marshmallows,” Hannah said, her voice laced with regret. “I’ll bet it was the wood smoke.”
“Possibly.” Darcy looked up at her. “But don’t worry about it—she’ll be fine.”
Hannah rested a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Are her asthma episodes growing more frequent or worse?”
“No, though colds really exacerbate things, of course. The smoke sensitivity is fairly new.”
“How often does she need the quick-relief inhaler?” Hannah asked.
“A few times a week at the most. Some weeks she’s fine.” Darcy dropped a kiss on Emma’s head. “We haven’t needed a trip to the ER in a long time. She’s due to go into the clinic next month to see Dr. McClaren.”
“You can get in sooner if need be,” Hannah said. “Just give us a call.”
* * *
It took only a few minutes for Logan to load Cedar into the plastic kennel and fasten it snugly in the back of the pickup, up against the cab so there’d be less of a breeze as he drove.
“What about Bonnie, Mommy? Can’t we take her, too?” Emma twisted in her booster seat to look out the back window of the truck. “She could sit with me. Please?”
Darcy looked over her shoulder at Emma. “I told Hannah that we’ll definitely take her, so don’t worry. We’re going to pick her up Sunday afternoon.”
“Why not now?”
“Because I work the next four and a half days, and you’ll be with Mrs. Spencer. We need to be home and spend time with her when she first comes to our house.”
“You won’t forget?”
“Of course not, sweetie.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, of course. I promise.”
“What about a pony?”
Logan laughed aloud and gave Darcy a sidelong glance that did something funny to her insides. “Yes, Mom. Why not a pony, too, as long as you’re getting a dog?”
Darcy shot a dark look at him. “You are not helping.”
The laugh lines at the corner of his eyes and the dimple in his right cheek deepened, but he kept his eyes on the road. After a few miles he glanced at the rearview mirror again. “Looks like your little cowgirl just fell asleep.”
Darcy slumped in her seat. “That’s not good. She’ll wake up when we get home. A nap will set her bedtime back for a good hour—and that’s if I’m lucky. She’s quite a live wire at night.”
“Maybe she can help you with the floor.”
“You wait. Someday you’ll have kids, and then you won’t take these things lightly. Sleep means everything to a mom—or dad—who has to work every day.”
“I suppose you’re right,” he said quietly, giving the rearview mirror another glance. “But I doubt I’ll ever know firsthand.”
When he pulled into her driveway, he parked behind an older model sedan with dents in the bumper and a Red’s Auto frame around the license plate. He opened the back door of the truck. Emma was still asleep.
“I can get her,” Darcy said, opening the opposite door.
“Nah, I’ve got her—you grab the booster seat.” He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the front porch and waited while Darcy unlocked the door. Then he walked to Emma’s bedroom and laid her on her twin bed.
“Looks like you just got a break,” he whispered as he stepped back and watch Darcy carefully remove Emma’s shoes and jeans and cover her with a light blanket. “Does she need her pajamas on?”
“That would be pushing my luck. She might even stay asleep for the night if I don’t disturb her.”
They both tiptoed out of the room, and Logan headed for the front door, where he hesitated, then turned back with a look of regret.
“I suppose I should get Cedar settled at the clinic.”
She nodded, regretting the fact that he needed to leave. “I suppose.”
“Thanks. For the wonderful meal. And for...the company.”
“And thank you for helping with the floor, and taking us to Hannah’s. And—” she considered her words “—thank you for being so sweet to Emma. I know it means a lot to her.”
His gaze locked on hers. He took a single step closer, close enough that she could pick up his familiar scents of pine and fresh air, and a faint aftershave she couldn’t name. And for just a moment she felt enchanted, as if she might be taking the most important step in her life.
But then he shook his head as if he’d felt that same connection and was just as afraid as she was. He walked out the door.
And the moment was lost.