Giselle had tried to think up anything that wouldn’t sound totally manufactured and cowardly, so as not to have to go on the damn walk. Had it been inside her fence, she could have done it easily enough, but moving about in open terrain—not so much. In the end, she realized that Tierney’s happy expression tipped the scale in favor of a walk. Her assistant had looked so excited to involve her in Charley’s training, which reminded Giselle of Tierney’s offhand comment about her leaving. Why this had brought everything inside Giselle’s mind to a complete stop, she couldn’t figure out, only that it didn’t sit well with her. Tierney had worked for her only five days, but it seemed much longer.
She pulled on her hiking boots, which felt like overkill for a walk back and forth on her gravel road, but knowing Charley’s antics, she’d need something with a good grip. The weather looked nice, and Giselle opted for a light windbreaker. When she walked out the door, she found Tierney and Charley waiting for her. Charley was sitting by Tierney’s left side but looked like she might shiver out of her skin from sheer happiness. When she saw Giselle, she made a half a move, as if she was about to jump up on her, something Giselle had found it impossible to teach her not to do.
“Ah-ah, Charley,” Tierney said, her voice low and firm. “Stay.”
To Giselle’s amazement, Charley remained sitting, even if her tail did its usual frenetic wagging.
“Why don’t we walk up to the meadow and let her run off-leash a little?” Tierney smiled. “If she burns off some steam, she’ll listen more carefully to us later.”
“To you, no doubt. To me? We’ll see.” Giselle walked to Tierney’s right, not at all comfortable as they approached the gate. Normally, she ventured outside her property only in her car, which she could reach indoors by way of the garage door that led to the mudroom.
“Oh, you’ll be surprised. Just use the same tone you use when I annoy you.” Grinning, Tierney winked at Giselle, who wondered if she was imagining the tiny hurt tone in Tierney’s voice.
Tierney smiled warmly and the moment passed. “Charley needs a firm hand but also a very loving one. You can easily break a retriever’s spirit if you’re too angry, but you can also be too lenient with them as well, since they’re such goofballs.”
“And here I thought it was just my dog.” Giselle spoke tongue-in-cheek, but her remark had some truth to it. Whenever she would see well-behaved dogs with good manners, she wondered what she was doing wrong with Charley. Had she given up when nothing seemed to go right? Yes. She had. She’d settled for Charley running wild on the property. Frances had taken her for walks, and it had stung that Charley usually minded her better. “I think it has more to do with me than her.”
Tierney snorted irreverently. “Perhaps to a degree, but retrievers usually mature later in life. They’re cheeky brats for the first three years, I’d say.”
“How do you know so much about dogs?” Giselle asked.
“One of the places where I stayed had a kennel. It was the one place I really liked. I lived there only six months, but I soaked up everything they taught me about dogs, training them, and different breeds. I practically camped out at the libraries of the towns where I stayed, reading all kinds of books about dogs. Occasionally I read about other pets, but dogs are my favorites.” Tierney shrugged. “Guess I can be educated, right?”
Giselle tried to wrap her brain around what Tierney had just said. “You said ‘one of the places you stayed.’ What do you mean?”
“I…oh, damn. You know I was in the system for most of my childhood and adolescence. In fact, I stayed in several different foster homes. Much like being an army brat, you know. A lot of moving.”
Tierney sounded like she’d repeated this information a million times. Dispassionately, she talked about what had to have been a hard childhood and adolescence as if it meant nothing. But this was clearly not the case. Aware that she didn’t know Tierney deep down, Giselle still could tell with reasonable accuracy that Tierney had to hide strong emotions to keep them from taking over. She recognized that particular trait, as she was the same way.
“Guess it can be hard to feel at home at any given place after such a start in life.” Giselle kept close to the tree line of the woods to their left as she spoke. The stunning vision of the open fields to the right elevated her pulse.
“Sure can.” Tierney eyed her carefully. “How long have you had problems with being outside?”
Guess that was only fair. Giselle rarely talked about her phobia with anyone, since the people around her already knew. “Always. It’s grown worse over time. Crowded places and stress make it even worse.”
“Do you feel safe only at the house?”
“My property, the car, and once I was on a secluded island when I wrote music for a movie.” The tropical island had been remote and heavily guarded, but very few people could live like that. “Like this, surrounded by woods, is all right. Open areas…are difficult for me.”
“What do you miss the most?” Tierney bent down and unhooked the leash from Charley’s collar.
“I didn’t know this walk would turn into a therapy session.” Tensing, Giselle shoved her hands into her pockets. Was this when she asked Tierney why the hell she’d written that song about her? She hedged. Did she really want to know? Could she handle that?
“Oh, God. It’s not that. We’re just talking about our illustrious pasts.” Tierney laughed, and again it dawned on Giselle how irreverent she sounded—but not callous. Perhaps that bubbling laughter was a coping mechanism. And who was playing psychologist now? Giselle sighed and was about to keep walking when she realized the tree line had ended and they stood several yards into the open field that was now twice the size of the former one.
“No.” Taking two steps back, she bumped into Tierney. “No.”
Tierney placed a gentle hand at the small of her back, not to stop her, Giselle realized, but to keep her from falling on the uneven ground. “Easy there.” Her voice wasn’t cheery now, but instead calm and with a tinge of alto. Much like her singing voice sounded. “It’s just us here. And Charley. Look at her. That proves my point.” She pointed at the racing dog that every now and then came to a dead stop, listened, sniffed, performed a ninja roll, and went on running again. “Goofball.”
Giselle remained where she was. Tierney’s hand against her back grounded her somehow, and she could breathe without wheezing. “She has so much energy.”
“Dogs are nuts that way. They can go at it until they’re totally bushed, and then they rest for twenty minutes, only to be ready for round two. I think they invented the term power nap.”
“I think you’re right.” Giselle glanced at Tierney, who stood so close, her presence should have crowded all her senses. Instead it felt reassuring and not invasive in any way. That was so strange. “I don’t think I want to go farther out into the field.”
“Then Charley better come on cue, because I’m not leaving you alone here.” Tierney stuck two fingers of her free hand into her mouth and gave a piercing whistle. “Charley. Come!”
Charley stopped so fast, she nearly fell. Looking over at them, she seemed to ponder if she could get away with tearing around the field one more time. If it was the fact that they gave her time to figure it out, Giselle had no way of knowing, but Charley gave a muted “woof” and came running.
“Here. Give her these and praise her to bits.” Tierney handed Giselle five treats.
Charley came to a sudden halt, nearly slamming into Giselle’s legs, and then sat down, her tongue lolling as she panted happily.
“Clever dog. Good girl.” Giselle gave Charley the treats and was rewarded with an affectionate lick along the back of her hand. “You’re such a clever dog. “
Charley clearly took that as an invitation and threw herself in her favorite position, on her back with her legs waving madly. Unable to resist, Giselle chuckled and crouched next to her crazy dog and rubbed her belly. “Such a lovebug, aren’t you?”
“Moff,” Charley replied.
Standing up, Giselle smiled at Tierney. “This is new. I mean, she’s always been cuddly, but this, coming to me, especially when you’re right next to me, is very special.”
Tierney blinked and looked bewildered. Clasping her hands behind her back, she opened her mouth twice to speak before she said, “She wants to please you, but she needs to learn what you want from her. Once dogs, especially retrievers, learn what you expect and that they have no other option than to obey, they love working. And if Charley spends more time with you, working together, her training will go exponentially faster.”
“I believe you. You’ve done more with her than I’ve managed to accomplish in two years.” Still mystified at why Tierney seemed to feel awkward and now also appeared flustered, Giselle spoke quickly before she lost her nerve. “I realize this takes longer than we first agreed on. I mean, training both me and Charley.”
“I’m game if you are,” Tierney said lightly, shaking her arms loose.
“I am. If you can imagine remaining in East Quay for a little while longer, I’d be very grateful.”
Tierney now beamed, her open smile making her eyes sparkle. “I’ll stay as long as you need me, okay?”
Taken aback, Giselle could barely breathe. “How can…you can’t just say that.” Nobody could promise such a thing, give a carte blanche of promised time. “What if something happens to your family or friends?”
“I don’t have any family, remember? And as for my friends, I mostly see them online. I’m in contact with a few of my former foster-siblings and others with the same past.”
“But still—”
“I’m a nomad. I confess. But as out of character as it is for you to let me, a stranger, into your home, it’s just as strange for me to really want to stay and be of help to you.”
So. There it was. Giselle needed an assistant to help with her dog, take care of the house, and run errands. Tierney saw herself as the one for the job. Still, it was more than that. “You realize you sell yourself short, don’t you?” Giselle narrowed her eyes, rather pleased at the effect her expression had on Tierney. Back went her hands behind her again.
“What do you mean?”
“You offer to be my assistant and help train my dog. That’s great, but I need you in another capacity. It would be a crime to overlook that skill. Vivian and Mike arrive in an hour. I want you to bring more of whatever lyrics you have, and we can try to fit them to my melodies.”
“And the lyrics from earlier?” Tierney asked carefully.
Giselle wanted to say no, which would have been her usual method of operation. She always protected herself at all costs to keep from having that final panic attack that would defy what all her doctors or therapists claimed wasn’t possible—and kill her. And now, here she stood, next to a young woman who wasn’t free of scars. Tierney possessed the heart of a warrior. Giselle could feel it. She seemed to lead a nomadic life, so perhaps she was running from something, or someone. Still, she dared to write such revealing lyrics that they might well have caused her to be fired, but instead she had, in a moment of wanting to help Giselle, bared them, and herself.
This woman was vibrant and ready for whatever she could do to help, and then some. The lyrics scared Giselle, but she had to put them together with her melody, regardless of her own fears. Her heart landed with a sickening sound in the center of her abdomen. “Even those.”