Rozsa Gaston Approx

Within forty-five minutes, they were back at Tom and Nic's home in Scarsdale. Jack wasn't crazy about the idea of sleeping outdoors, but he admired Hint's sense of adventure. He hoped he'd find her in his arms again when they woke up the following morning.

"These yoga pants don't do much for me." He pointed to the hem of the black yoga pants she had lent him. They ended midway down his calves. She had also given him an oversized tee shirt so he could change out of the black sports jacket and shirt he'd worn into Manhattan.

"They won't, if you tuck your sleeping bag around you tightly enough. Haven't you ever gone camping before?" She rolled her eyes as she spread out a dark green sleeping bag on one of the chaise longues on the patio.

"Yes. Four nights ago was the last time. And I don't remember anyone I ever camped with sleeping on a chaise longue, either. Is that some sort of city slicker camping style?"

"I just thought we'd be more comfortable sleeping on some padding. Look at how thick it is." She bounced as she sat on the green-and-white striped cushion of the chaise longue. He tried not to notice the motion of her curves under the white tee shirt she wore. Impossible.

"I see. Look at how wide it is, too." The contours of the night ahead were taking on a different shape from the one he'd envisioned.

"It's wide enough for you. What's your problem?" she asked, folding down one corner of the sleeping bag into a neat vee.

It is wide enough for one, not two, he thought as he watched her shake out the second sleeping bag on the other chaise longue. Shouldering her out of the way, he rolled it across the patio directly next to the first one. Only two wrought-iron arms now stood in the way of his plans for the night.

"What do you mean?" She pushed him aside, rolling the second chaise longue back to its former position, on the other side of the patio from the first.

"I mean this is how Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz's beds were set up in I Love Lucy."

"This is our last night to find Percy. We're going to do whatever we can to make him feel safe enough to come back here," she said firmly. With hands on hips, she looked like a schoolteacher scolding her class.

"Why will he feel safer with twin beds? Do you think he'll be jealous of me just because he's been fixed?" The inanity of what he'd said dawned on him too late.

"So it doesn't help if they sleep in twin beds," he said, exasperated. "Where do you think it leads?"

"Jack, get your mind out of bed and onto Percy." Hint laughed. "We're trying to lure him back. He knows my smell. He doesn't know yours."

"He'll come to me if I'm alone. Over here. He may not come to me if your smell is anywhere near mine."

"Great. So I guess that leaves us telling campfire stories before we fall asleep," he said.

He watched as she neatly brushed off the soles of her feet then climbed into her sleeping bag on the chaise longue facing his.

He quietly climbed out of bed and was at her side in five steps. He leaned over her and put one hand on her forehead, smoothing back silky tendrils of hair framing her face.

Carefully, he sat on the side of her chaise longue and lightly touched her face. Feeling no resistance, he began to massage her forehead and temples.

"Empty your head," he intoned. "Don't think. Let Percy wander in, in his own time. Don't force him." He was beginning to feel like a dog whisperer himself.

He continued stroking her face. Beneath his hands, she slid into sleep. He hadn't gotten a goodnight kiss, but tomorrow was another day. With Hint, the tempo would be slow but steady. Steadiness was something he hadn't experienced with women before. She was unlocking something inside him that he had previously slammed shut against her sex. But that took time. The same kind of time she required to allow him closer.

Silently rising, he slipped away. There was something he needed to do. He hadn't wanted to scare her earlier, but it had occurred to him that the coyote out there might just as well as any other living creature examine them sleeping on Tom and Nic's patio in the small of the night. He didn't think coyotes attacked human beings larger than infants. But as a precaution, he'd make sure no animal visited without them knowing about it. Where Hint's safety was concerned, he would take no chances.

Quietly, so as not to wake her, he walked to his car and opened the trunk. There he took out a coil of thin copper wire and his emergency tool kit. Each item in the kit had a hole at one end, so it could be hung up on hooks on a wall. Quickly, he strung them together onto the copper wire, fashioning a wire fence of metal objects that would clank together noisily should anything or anyone step into it.

Holding one end, he draped the other over his shoulders then made his way back to the patio.

As he approached the chaise longue where she lay, she stirred in her sleep, murmuring. "Snull," she seemed to say.

Snull bun. It didn't sound like a man's name. Why couldn't she have just said his name? He roped the wire cord around the patio furniture and through the tiki lamps at two corners of the low stone wall, marking the end of the flagstone where the backyard lawn began.

In a minute, he was done. He hopped into his own sleeping bag and lay back, hands crossed under his head, gazing at the stars.

Then it came to him — snull bun, snuggle bunny. Looking at the sleeping beauty six feet away from him, he asked God to substitute himself for Percy as the snuggle bunny of her heart.

The next morning, Jack woke up to birds singing and a clear sky overhead. He got up, stretched, and walked over to where Hint lay. As he watched her smooth, sleeping face, she opened her eyes and smiled up at him.

"Good morning," she said sleepily.

"Good morning, Dog Whisperer."

"Your eye's a real mess today," she observed.

He sat next to her on the edge of the chaise longue. Her slim fingers wandered over the left side of his face, probing his bruise. Breathing in the scent of her skin, he grabbed her wrist and kissed the sensitive pulse point.

Lazily, she smiled. "No coyotes."

"Only a wolf." His eyes locked onto hers, then he leaned down and pressed his mouth to her lips. In a minute, his body stretched full-length on hers.

For a long moment they lay there, serenaded by the noisy chirping of morning birds. Jack sensed an invisible line drawn that couldn't be crossed until the situation with Percy was resolved. He shuddered, thinking of the possibility of the dog never showing up again.

"Our last day to find him," she finally said, breaking their silence.

"We will." If he said it with confidence, maybe it would chase away her doubts.

"Yes. We will," she agreed. She stretched her arms overhead, like a gorgeous hothouse flower. He reached for her again, but with a languid stretch of her slender arm, she pushed him off the chaise longue.

"I'll be back," he said. "If you need to take care of any business, I promise not to look on that side of the house." He pointed in the opposite direction of the toolshed then headed for the shed.

In a minute, they met back on the patio. She looked him up and down.

"You need to go home and change," she said.

"What — the light of day doesn't favor your clothes on me?" he teased.

"You look better in your own clothes." Then she studied his face. "And you need a shave."

"Thanks."

"Let's get going." She folded her sleeping bag into three vertical sections then sat on it as she tightly rolled it up. She looked as if she knew what she was doing.

After a minute, they were headed down the Bronx River Parkway on their way to Hint's apartment.

"Listen, how about I go pick up the steaks for our barbecue while you get ready?" he suggested as he pulled up in front of her building. "Then we can go up to my place, so I can change — then head on back to Tom and Nic's."

"When are they due back this afternoon?" she asked.

"They told me they'd swing by my place around five to pick up Percy."

"That doesn't give us much time." She shuddered then thought a moment. "Is there somewhere to go for a fast run in your neighborhood?"

"There's the high school track at the bottom of the hill near my house."

"Good. While you're doing whatever you need to do, I'll take a run down there."

"You can shower at my place afterwards," he offered.

"No shower. I want to get as sweaty as possible so Percy smells me while we're barbecuing. We've got to try whatever it takes to attract him back to his own backyard."

"Great. I can hardly wait to smell you myself." He pulled a strand of her hair. "Should I also resist cleaning myself up?"

"No. You need to clean up." She smiled at him playfully. "He doesn't know your smell. He knows mine. So go get the steaks, if you're offering." She pointed toward Bronxville's main street. "The butcher's closed Sundays, but there's a supermarket two blocks in that direction."

"Meet you back here in half an hour."

"Stay in the car. I'll come down." She grabbed the two sleeping bags and got out. He watched her enter her building then drove off. For once, he hoped Brian O'Connell had been spying on her. Maybe he'd add things up and realize Hint was off the market, if she was being delivered home at eight in the morning.

He picked up three large sirloin steaks and four ears of corn at the store. He was ready to eat a horse. To stave off starvation, he also got bagels and coffee with the Sunday paper then drove back to Hint's building to wait outside in his car.

A minute later, she was next to him, her hair wet and smelling delicious. She wore a fresh tee shirt and running shorts.

"Hey, no fair. You did take a shower," he said.

"Yes, but I'm not taking another one after I run. I just needed to wash my hair."

"It smells great. What did you put on it?"

"Something from one of those magic bottles in my bathroom," she explained.

"Well worth it. I applaud your support of the toiletries industry."

"Drive. And thanks for the coffee." She took a sip from the foam cup he had handed her. "Mmm. Hazelnut. Delicious."

"Not just any old hazelnut. Chocolate hazelnut." He'd seen that flavor of coffee in her kitchen cupboard the other morning when he'd made coffee for her.

"I like it. What else is in there?" She indicated the paper bag lying in his lap.

"A bagel for my lady."

"What's on it?"

"Butter."

"How did you know I liked butter on my bagel?"

"I'm getting to know you." He hadn't had any idea, but he'd bought one with butter and one with cream cheese, just to cover all bases. He congratulated himself on guessing correctly as he handed the buttered bagel to her.

"Hmm." She rolled down her window as he swung out of Meadow Lane onto Bronxville's main road. In another minute, they were on the highway heading toward Jack's home.

Suddenly, he remembered that he hadn't picked up around the house last time he'd been there. He hoped she'd forgive his lack of domestic skills. What was the point of picking up when there was no one around to notice?

After twenty-five minutes, they were in Pleasantville, in mid-Westchester County. It took him five more minutes to navigate the back roads on the way to his house. Finally, after climbing a long, gentle hill, he pulled into the driveway of his neat, pale yellow, clapboard farmhouse.

"It's beautiful," Hint exclaimed, jumping out of the car.

"It's a former pickle farm. The farmhouse had been restored by the previous owners, so it was move-in ready when I bought it."

"When was that?" she asked, looking up at a tall, stately maple tree in his front yard.

"About three years ago."

"I love your trees," she said.

"Wait till you see the ones out back."

Quickly, he led her through the house to the back deck, conscious of the piles of unopened junk mail on the kitchen table and the basket of dirty laundry next to the washer and dryer in the butler's pantry. If he could just get her out to the back, she might maintain her favorable first impression.

"Here's where my favorite trees are," he said as they stepped out the sliding glass door to the back deck.

Hint said nothing, taking in the expanse of Jack's backyard. The breeze ruffled her hair as she leaned over the deck railing. While she surveyed the three tall trees, he marveled at the myriad shades of red and dark gold mingled in her hair. The variety was uncountable.

"They're beautiful," she finally said. "What kind of trees are they?"

"That one's a maple, like the one in front." He pointed to the tallest tree directly in front of them. "Then there's a chestnut over here. And that one in the corner is an oak."

"I like the oak the best."

He smiled. That was Prayer, his friend and counselor on quiet summer evenings when he sat out here alone, a cold beer in hand.

"Why?" he couldn't help asking.

"I don't know. It looks almost human, somehow. Like a watchman protecting your property." She paused.

"He is sort of doing that. Or so Marguerite says."

"It's a he, huh? Does he have a name?" She looked at him out of the corner of one eye.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. He does." He wasn't ready to share it with her just yet. Would she think he was nuts to have a tree named Prayer?

"Are you going to tell me what it is?" she asked.

"No, but maybe Marguerite will."

"I'll ask her next week." A smile flickered on her face. She seemed pleased to remember their plans for next weekend. Would not finding Percy throw a kink in them? He hoped she could separate whatever feelings she had for him from their dog hunt, no matter what its outcome.

"I'll go for my run now, if you show me which way the track is," she said.

"Sure," he agreed, pride washing over him in introducing her to his neighborhood. "It's right down this hill on the other side of the street. Probably less than an eighth of a mile."

"Great. See you in about thirty minutes."

He watched as her slender form jogged down the hill. Then he turned and bounded upstairs, taking them two at a time. They were going to find the dog that day. If Hint thought so, then he did, too. Great minds think alike, it was said. Greatly in-sync minds think alike, too, as far as he was concerned.

Within twenty minutes he was showered, shaved, and dressed. Back downstairs, he slipped a container of his sister's homemade potato salad he had found in his fridge into an ice cooler, along with a few cans of ginger ale, two bottles of beer, and some water. Going out to his car to load the cooler into his trunk, he spotted Hint slowly jogging up the hill. As he watched her approach, it struck him that she was the first woman visiting his home to guess that his trees had names.

"Sweaty enough?" he asked.

"I'm pretty smelly. Great track." Breathing heavily, she climbed the porch steps and leaned against one of the white support columns with both hands to stretch her calf muscles.

"Percy will be happy," he commented. "Ready for a barbecue?"

"Ready for a cold drink."

He returned with a bottle of ice-cold water and a small towel, which he slung around her neck. Surreptitiously, he inhaled as he leaned toward her, enjoying her sweaty, natural scent.

An hour later, they were back in Tom and Nicole's backyard. Hint had brought a few of Percy's squeaky toys.

"Should we start the grill then take a walk around while it's firing up?" she asked.

"Sure. Let's bring a couple of these while we're looking." He picked out a bedraggled white stuffed cat, handed it to her, then took a red and white ball for himself. Squeezing it, he laughed at its gasping squeak. He pushed the cooler holding food and drinks under one of the chaise longues out of the sun fired up the grill and closed the top. It would take a few minutes to heat up before they could slap on the steaks.

They started down the driveway.

"Looks different in the daytime, huh?" he asked.

"A little less scary than last night when the coyote was howling."

"A little less exciting too," he continued.

"No flamenco music coming from the neighbor's house," she said.

"Or from inside your head." He smiled at her, remembering her visions from the night before. She had seen Percy lying in long grass. Where could that have been? All around them were well-manicured lawns and tidy sidewalks.

"Why don't we walk through the meadow behind the backyard?" she suggested.

"The meadow?" Then he remembered the wild, undeveloped piece of land that lay beyond the backyard. "Oh, right." He led the way past the far side of the house into the tall grass on the other side of the low stone fence that bordered Tom and Nicole's property. He squeaked the ball from time to time. Each time he did, Hint followed with a squeak from the stuffed cat. Already a savory scent wafted from the grill, left over from remnants of whatever Tom and Nicole had cooked last time they had used it.

Suddenly, Hint stopped short. "What's that sound?"

Jack paused. Something was rustling in the grass up ahead just to the right.

"Percy?" he tried.

"Percy," Hint whispered then squeaked the cat. "Good boy. Come on, boy. Come here."

Silence followed.

Jack wanted to hear her call for Snuggle Bunny, but he didn't want to embarrass her. It was a hands-off sort of nickname, like Prayer for his oak tree.

"Hey, buddy. Come over here," he stage-whispered.

A flash of gray zipped past them up ahead.

"Percy," she sang out. She moved in the direction where the animal had gone, but it had disappeared.

"Do you think that was him?" he asked.

"I don't know." She gave him an unexpectedly confident look. "But let's believe it was."

They fanned out, each squeaking a toy, slowly walking through the field. No more creatures crossed their paths.

Finally, Jack made his way back to Hint. He found her crouched down at the base of a broad maple tree, examining an opening amidst its roots.

"Something in there?"

"Not now. But it looks like some sort of animal's home." She glanced back at him, her face animated. "Do you think he might have slept there at night or to get out of the rain?"

"I don't know. Why don't you rub his squeaky cat around the opening? Then if he comes back, maybe he'll follow its scent to the patio."

"Good idea." She dragged the stuffed animal along the ground and on the tree roots around the hole's opening. Soon the dirty white toy was completely gray. Standing up, she shook it out then signaled she was ready to go. He caught her scrutinizing the banged-up side of his face.

"How'm I doing?" He pointed to his shiner.

"It's turning yellow, which means it's healing. Why don't we slap a steak on your face for a minute before we grill it?"

"What's that supposed to do?" he asked, as they headed back to Tom and Nicole's property.

"They say there are enzymes in the meat that help heal bruises. In any case, it's cold, so it will help reduce the swelling."

"Awesome. You won't be the only one to attract Percy with your smell."

She punched his arm then ran ahead. He jogged behind her to the patio, again admiring her slim, cello shape, for reasons unrelated to music.

"You check the grill. I'll get the steaks," she ordered.

He complied, turning down the temperature slightly on the fully-fired grill. Then he reached into the cooler and pulled out two ginger ales.

"Not for me, right now," she said. She was carving something into one of the raw steaks. Peering over her shoulder, he saw she had made an X on the meat with her knife.

"I've got beer in here too, if you're in the mood," he offered.

"I'll be in the mood when Percy saunters into range, and we've got his leash on."

"I like your confidence."

"Lie back and put this on your face" was her response.

Once he reclined, her fingertips dabbed at his left temple, laying the cold slab of steak on his eye. The sensation was refreshing; the smell unusual, but not unpleasant. He felt a tingling sensation, as if the meat was drawing something out of his skin.

He jumped up after several pleasant minutes, slapped the slab of meat with the X on it that had just been on his face onto the grill, then grabbing the other two she handed him. "Time for steak?"

"The one with the X is for Percy, okay?" she told him.

"I gathered that. But if he doesn't show up, can I eat it?"

"He'll show up." Her voice was firmer than he'd ever heard it sound before. She unpacked a pale blue, purple, and green striped tablecloth then laid out cutlery, plates, and glasses on it, along with the potato salad he'd brought. She also pulled out a container of perfectly ripe cut-up watermelon.

In less than fifteen minutes, the steaks were done. Jack piled two onto a serving plate, leaving the third one on the grill, which he turned off. The scent of the grilled meat was out of this world. Even a rock would work up an appetite. He certainly had.

Salivating madly, he joined Hint at the patio table. "Here's to Percy," he toasted, raising his can of ginger ale.

"Here's to Percy with us." Her voice was serene and confident, but her hand trembled as she picked up her drink.

"Here's to us," he rejoined.

She said nothing, but her eyes sparkled as she clinked his soda can. Then she cut a large piece of steak and forked it into her mouth.

"Nice. You can cook," she said approvingly.

"I can grill. And I have access to the best potato salad in the universe." He served her his sister's potato salad.

"This is great. What's in it?" she asked, after taking a bite.

"Bacon. And horseradish to give it some edge. One of my sister's best dishes."

"Umm. Your sister is gifted. Percy would gobble this up."

"Will gobble this up," he corrected her. Picking up one of the less dirty squeaky toys, he squeezed it.

Several minutes later, Hint pushed back her seat with a sigh. The steaks were gone, except for the one left on the grill. Large, white, puffy clouds lounged overhead, dotting a china blue sky.

Idly, she picked up the filthy stuffed cat and squeaked it. "Do you think we should put the last steak down on the ground on the edge of the patio?"

"Let's cut it up and put part of it down," he suggested. "That way, if an animal other than Percy shows up, we'll still have something left for him." He cut the remaining steak into several pieces, put some on a paper plate, then walked to the edge of the patio, where he put the plate on the ground.

Minutes passed. For Jack, they weren't empty, but full of being there with Hint.

"I think I'm ready for a beer," she finally said, surprising him.

"With pleasure, my lady." He opened the cooler, extracting two bottles of ice-cold Pilsners. With a practiced touch, he held them both in one hand, twisting off the tops with the other. He handed her one.

She took a long draught. "Ahhh. That tastes good. And I usually don't drink beer." She slowly swung back her head, her neck arched, as she searched the sky.

"Relaxing already? I'm surprised," he said. She'd just told him she wouldn't have a beer until Percy was within range. He couldn't figure her out. Ever.

"I'm celebrating Percy's return," she explained.

"You are, huh? That's funny, because I don't see him anywhere."

"Ye of little faith," Hint admonished him. "Didn't you say that to me recently?"

"I might have," Jack admitted. What did that have to do with anything?

"Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of…"

"Things not seen," he finished for her. The verse from the Book of Hebrews in the New Testament was one of his favorites.

"Right. So drink your beer and believe," Hint commanded.

"Good call." Taking a long draught, he relished the sting of the cold, foamy liquid as it went down his throat. While he drank, he told himself the dog was back. If Hint could believe it, so could he. "Ahh, there's something about a warm day and a cold beer that goes together," he finally remarked.

"You can say that again," she agreed.

"There's something about—" He stopped short. A movement just beyond the patio had caught his eye. Something was out there in the brush.

She looked to see why he hadn't finished his sentence then glanced in the same direction.

Frozen, he held the beer bottle midair, afraid to move. Something gray was coming out of the bushes, moving toward the paper plate on the ground.

Jack lightly squeaked the red and white ball he held. If it was Percy, he'd respond. If it wasn't, the noise would scare off whatever was out there.

The small animal stopped, its ears perking up.

"It's him," Hint whispered, not moving a muscle.

Together they stared as Percy found his way to the plate and gobbled up the steak.

Stealthily, Jack moved to the grill and slid the other pieces of steak onto a second plate. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hint fish out a blue leash from the same bag that had held the dog's squeaky toys.

The sound of the rustling paper bag caught the schnoodle's attention. Warily, he looked up.

"Percy," Hint murmured, gesturing to Jack for the plate.

He handed it to her. The dog didn't seem ready to bolt, but he wasn't rushing into her arms either. Jack noted the matted, bedraggled condition of his coat. Apparently, he hadn't had an easy time of it out there.

"Come here, boy. Here, Snuggle Bunny. Some more steak for you." She put the dish down in front of her, crouching behind it.

Percy sniffed. He moved forward two steps then stopped. Jack remained motionless. He knew he'd bungle it if he made a big, sweeping man-sized move. He'd wait to see what Hint did, then help her, if it looked like she couldn't collar the schnoodle.

"Good, Percy. Good, boy. Come on, Snuggle Boy. This steak's for you." She gently moved the plate another foot in his direction then retreated, still crouching.

The dog didn't take his eyes off the steak. Slowly, he inched forward. Finally, he reached his goal and gobbled down the meat.

Leash in hand, Hint sprang forward. In one smooth move, she grabbed the dog's collar. He twitched at her touch, but continued to devour the bits on the plate. Quickly, she snapped the leash onto his collar then moved back to give him room.

Jack marveled. Who knew what kind of psychological state the dog was in? Most likely he was fearful of strangers, and perhaps viewing he and Hint as such. Quiet as a mouse, he picked up Percy's filthy cat toy and squeaked it.

Percy's ears went up, and he looked at it. Cautiously, Jack bent down and dropped the stuffed animal on the ground. The schnoodle immediately went over to sniff it.

For one long moment, neither Hint nor Jack moved. Their persistence had paid off, with a dose of magic tossed in — or had it been faith? The dog was back. Inside, Jack was on fire. He hoped Hint was, too.

She couldn't fathom it. She had repeatedly told Jack it would happen, but now that it had — she almost couldn't believe their good fortune. Relief flooded every cell of her body, mingled with anticipation. Now she could allow her focus to shift — but the direction it would move in was uncharted territory. Trembling, she stole a glance at Jack. He looked amazed, staring at the dirt-encrusted dog in front of them.

"I can't believe it," she finally said.

"You should believe it. You kept saying he was nearby. Your confidence pulled him back to us," he told her.

"I wasn't confident at all. I was just saying that."

"Sometimes just saying something gives it credence," he said. "You breathed hope into reality with your words."

"Thanks, but this is a miracle." The confident pose she'd learned from Jack just the day before as he'd convinced Derek Simpson of her high professional value had worked to lure Percy back. That wasn't all she had learned from meeting Jack less than one week earlier. He'd shown her how to open her heart. Now, with the dog back, she could finally act upon it.

"It is," he agreed.

"Percy, can I hold you?" She eyeballed the schnoodle nuzzling his dirty cat. As she moved quietly toward the dog, he paid her no mind. His original leash was missing, a short, jagged remnant of it still hanging to his collar. She wondered how and by what it had been torn off.

Jack, beside her, put a plate of his sister's potato salad on the ground.

The schnoodle immediately stood up, took two steps to the plate and devoured its contents in less than three seconds.

"Hungry," he said.

"And dirty," she added.

"Should we hose him down?" Jack asked.

"We should give him a nice, warm bath."

"Your place or mine?"

She stood, looking at Jack. "I'd say mine, but if we go there first, will you have enough time to get him back to your place by five?" Her practical words belied her joy. There was a lot to celebrate. Percy's return was just the start of it.

"Will we have enough time, you mean. And no, not really. Let's take him to my place. Believe it or not, I have not only shampoo, but conditioner in my bathroom, all-in-one."

"Okay, Jack." She was glad she'd visited his home earlier that day. Maybe now he'd tell her the name of the oak tree in his backyard.

She dipped her finger in the potato salad and slowly crept toward the dog. She wouldn't initiate touch, but would wait for Percy to respond. Sure enough, the schnoodle sniffed her hand then licked it. A minute later, she was stroking his tangled, dusty coat. Soon Percy raised his head to lick her face. She gathered him into her lap, petting and snuggling him.

"You two look very happy together," Jack remarked, as he gathered up the remains of their barbecue.

"I just can't believe it."

"You should believe it. You were born under a lucky star," he told her.

"We always like to think so," she said, "but it's rare that something this lucky happens." Yet his comment felt right. For the first time in her life, luck and skill had converged in the space of a few days. Perhaps faith had been the glue that had brought them together.

"Not for you, Dog Whisperer," he reassured her. "You landed a big, fat professional contract yesterday, and found Percy today. Your stars lined up this weekend."

"Yours, too," she said, thinking of how she would personally help line them up, now that Percy was found. Inside, she danced on air.

"They're still aligning," he said, reaching down to pick up a paper plate. Was he hiding his face deliberately?

A blush worked its way up from the pit of her stomach to her neck. Quickly, she turned away, fishing in her bag for the dog treat she'd brought, in the hopes they would find him.

"Shall we go?" he asked, a minute later.

While she'd snuggled with Percy, he'd cleaned the grill, packed everything in the ice cooler, and even folded her tablecloth. She was Mary to Jack's Martha. The dog looked happy, his tail wagging and his liquid brown eyes on hers.

"Sure. I'm ready. She stood up, holding the leash tightly. As she walked toward the car, the dog followed easily. He seemed ready to go wherever her hugs and cuddles led him.

In twenty minutes, they were back at Jack's place in Pleasantville. Hint's adrenaline raced as she got out of the car. For the past six days, all of her emotions had been tempered by worry at Percy's disappearance. But now the weight dragging her down was finally gone, and reality itself had lightened her mood. Bounding onto Jack's front porch, she danced a few steps from sheer joy. Percy jumped at her heels, sensing her exuberance. A minute later, strong, warm arms stole around her from behind.

"Finally," Jack murmured into her hair.

"Finally." She turned around, straight into his arms. Tension melted off her into an invisible puddle of relief at her feet.

Percy barked at their ankles, and the leash tightened. He had spotted a squirrel scrambling up the side of the giant maple in the front yard.

"Not now, boy. It's time for your bath." She scooped him into her arms and followed Jack inside.

He led the way upstairs.

At the head of the landing stood a large bathroom. A skylight overhead let in light and framed a leafy panorama of trees. She was impressed. She knelt at the side of the bathtub, motioning to Jack to close the door. He did so, leaning against it on the inside.

Finally, finally, finally. She ran water from both faucets until the temperature was pleasantly warm, but not hot. Then she realized she hadn't showered after her run. An idea dawned on her — naughty but nice at the same time.

"Jack, would you go downstairs and get me something cold to drink?" she asked, looking up through half-lidded eyes.

"My lady, your wish is my command. Perhaps you would like another cold Pilsner, to quench your thirst?"

"No. Some ice-cold water would be fine." She turned back to Percy, unsnapping the collar from around his neck. His coat was filthy, covered with crusted dirt, which now settled onto the bathroom floor. Quickly, she lifted him into the bathtub.

Once the door closed behind Jack, she reached over and locked it. She would rinse off Percy first, to remove the initial layer of dirt, then soak him in the bath.

Within five seconds, her sweaty running clothes lay in a heap on the floor. She stepped into the bathtub then pulled the shower nozzle out of its holder on the wall. Carefully picking up Percy, she sat on the side of the tub then turned on the shower spray.

The dog didn't seem to mind at all. She sensed his joy in having a warm human being with whom to snuggle. Evidently, it trumped whatever discomfort he felt in getting wet. She sprayed the length of his body with warm water then reached for the shampoo bottle. She opened the top and squirted a quarter-sized glob onto the schnoodle.

Two knocks sounded at the door. "Hey. Can I come in?" Jack called from the other side.

"No. I'm busy."

"I've got your drink here."

"Thanks. Just leave it outside the door," she ordered.

"Okay. I'll be downstairs. There are fresh towels in the cupboard next to the sink. Help yourself," he offered.

"I will. Bye." She didn't mean to sound dismissive, but she had a job to do.

After lathering and rinsing Percy twice, she was finished. He seemed thrilled with the double massage he'd been given. She took her own shower, the schnoodle staying behind her in the tub, avoiding the spray of water.

Finally, she stepped out, grabbed the large white bathrobe hanging on the back of the door, and wrapped herself in it. Then she found a fluffy towel to dry off Percy. Now it was time for the fun part. She always got a kick out of seeing dogs shake themselves dry after a bath or swim.

Percy didn't fail her expectations. Drops of water flew in every direction as he shook himself vigorously. She giggled.

Another knock came at the door.

"Everything okay in there?" Jack's voice called, this time lower.

"Yes. We're fine."

"You didn't take your drink. It's here waiting for you," he pressed.

Okay, Pirate Boy, I get the message. Then, inspiration struck. The dust, dirt and tension of the past six days had all been washed away in the shower. With one graceful motion, she swung the bathroom door open and smiled into the face of the man waiting on the other side.

"What's here waiting for me?" she asked sweetly.

"Umm. Your drink, my lady." He handed it to her. His eyes were warm as they looked into hers with perfect understanding. Then they danced over her form, wrapped in his white bathrobe that did nothing to hide her curves. "And, if I might add…"

"Yes?" She lifted an eyebrow, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

"Your future."

Chapter Thirteen