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September hugged Macy. He cheek-rubbed her face and nuzzled her short wavy hair as though they'd been apart for years instead of a single day. Six days ago, the hospital insisted she stay, but she'd signed herself out after one night against the doctor's orders. She'd been frantic to reunite with her cat, the only thing left of her family, and had visited Macy every day since.
"He missed you." Doc Eugene smiled.
"Thanks for keeping him." She forced a return smile. "Mom isn't a cat person." Or a dog person. Not that it mattered any more.
"No problem. He's welcome to stay as long as you want. Macy has become a favorite around here."
"What's Robin think of that?" September hadn't noticed the sour woman the past few days.
"Had to let her go. She wanted more than I could give."
"A raise?"
He hesitated. "She’d been helping herself to more than the cash drawer. Pills missing, and a whole stack of my prescription pad. The local pharmacists called when my signature looked off. I’d already caught her mishandling a couple of the dogs.” He shook his head sadly. “Did you know she was BeeBo’s cousin? Makes you wonder what turns some people on the wrong path. Anyway, I turned her in but I don’t think they’ve caught up to her, yet.”
“I’m sorry.” She knew about misplaced trust and betrayal, had experienced enough to last nine lives. She looked around the clinic, still stroking Macy. “Guess you’ll need a new office manager, huh?”
He chuckled. “Nikki’s already campaigning for the job. That kid can't get enough of the animals, especially the cats. She loves showing Macy off. Surprises the heck out of clients when he takes his medicine without a fuss." He took off his glasses and polished them on his smock as he spoke, avoiding her eyes. "I'm sorry about Shadow. But he's the reason we found Lenny. Well, with help from Steven's mad computer skills."
She stiffened, and then made herself relax. Doc Eugene meant to make her feel better.
She'd been out of her mind with grief, and insisted they search for Shadow's GPS signal. They'd found the dog's collar looped over Lenny's ankle, when Steven used his iPad to track the signal as neatly as any computer geek quadruple his age.
Lenny had floated over a mile on his straw bale before it hung up on a tree. He suffered internal injuries but would survive, in part due to the protective warmth of the young orange cat that refused to leave him. A miracle. The boy's parents agreed that Lenny could keep the little cat Willie insisted they name Waffles.
Mom wouldn't stop talking about her genius grandson. Despite Steven's irksome rhymes, September made an effort to connect. She needed to, for herself as much as him.
Of course, Mom got on her nerves even more. Nothing new there. It sucked not having a car. Or a house. She hadn't decided whether to repair, rebuild or relocate. A clean break would put distance between her and painful memories. Besides, Heartland wasn't truly home, and hadn't been for years. She couldn’t pretend any more. Even her family acted uncomfortable around her, and she couldn't blame them. Coming back to Heartland had been running from the past, and she no longer needed to run. Now she could choose. Live in the present, and plan a future.
But until the insurance claims processed, she'd put up with being an uncomfortable guest in her parent's home. Mom treated her like a fifteen-year-old again, before all the bad stuff happened. But she’d put up with it, for now. Mom couldn’t compare to the conflict she’d already survived.
These days, September walked eggshells without Shadow to keep her grounded. Surprisingly, she’d suffered no flashbacks. Stress and memories triggered the attacks, and both were a package deal with her family, another good reason for a fresh start. Even the rescued animals conjured memories. That's why she'd turned down the offer to take BeeBo's dogs.
After the news broke, pet lovers rallied to adopt the furry victims, including Kelvin's sweet dog Hercules. September wanted to scream when they found Sunny two days ago trying to sneak across the Mexican border. It wasn't fair a murderer survived when Shadow had perished saving innocent lives.
Sunny even tried to blame Kelvin for BeeBo's death, and might have gotten away with it, if not for the torn claw festering in her neck. September had no doubt forensics would confirm the claw came from the kitten BeeBo rescued. Fuzzit now lived the life of Riley as Doc Eugene's clinic cat.
Boris Kitty and his person celebrated a joyous reunion filmed by local TV news crews, and started a blog featuring the hero cat. Delays continued over the spotted Pit Bull puppy’s adoption, though a waiting list clamored for the honor. The police considered him evidence. Samples of his blood, sent to the Pit Bull DNA database, would trace his bloodlines back to breeders and others for prosecution in the sordid dogfight business. A forensic veterinary team continued to collect evidence at the barn.
Her phone rang, and she checked before answering. Parker Belk again, the orchestra conductor from the theater. She sighed and let it go to voice mail. She'd already told him she wasn't interested. Thankfully, the other cellist recovered enough to play the rest of the Secret Garden run. She’d pick up Harmony later. Macy and her cello were the only two things of value she had from her old life. Time to start a new one. Maybe even tonight.
The front door binged bringing a warm glow of anticipation. She handed Macy to Doc Eugene as Combs appeared.
"Ready?" He crossed to shake the veterinarian’s hand before turning back to her. "I like your hair. Different, but I like it."
Mom insisted on a makeover: hair, makeup, the works, even a new outfit with a tailored emerald blouse to match her eyes, and a slinky white skirt. But September drew the line at dying the white streak. It looked even more pronounced with the short hairstyle.
September blushed when Combs put an arm around her waist, and brushed her cheek with a kiss. But she liked it. "Yes, I'm ready." They had a long overdue Valentine's make-up date.
She'd promised herself she'd smile and act happy, despite her aching sorrow. For Combs. He deserved that, and she did care for him. Loved him, in fact. She had a hard time saying so, or showing it. Tonight, though, she'd show him. Or try to. Wasn't sure she knew how. She blushed again.
"I've got news first. Not to spoil the mood or anything." Combs scratched Macy's ears, and the cat purred. "We found Larry Pitts."
"Who?" Doc Eugene leaned forward.
"September found him first, I think." Combs turned to her. "Remember when Shadow tracked Kinsler?"
"Oh my God. The hand." The dog had perched on top of a body. How had she forgotten?
"That was Larry Pitts. Young high school kid, only seventeen. Found his car swamped not too far from his body. He had scratches on his back and neck consistent with dog claws." He rubbed his face. "Haven't told Melinda yet, not sure what to say. It's different, when you have kids."
September touched his arm. "I know. And I'm sorry."
Doc Eugene frowned. "But you don't think Kinsler—"
"No, he's too little. Larry had been missing before Kinsler went AWOL." Combs snorted. "Damn dog still goes nuts for the squirrels, but now we've Kinsler-proofed the fence." He cleared his throat. "We also found the Doctor." He nodded at September. "Just like you said. Dead."
"Good." Another chapter closed. "Where?" She wouldn’t apologize for being glad.
"About six miles from the barn." Combs kept petting Macy as he spoke. "Inside a floating dumpster, an appropriate coffin for a very bad piece of garbage. He'd been mauled." He avoided meeting September’s eyes. "No sign of the dog. Or dogs. Forensics will figure it out."
"Shadow saved me. He died for me. But he didn't kill the Doctor." She stuck out her chin. "I'm glad that evil man got what he deserved. Poetic justice, if one of his canine victims sent him to hell." She sounded like a monster, and for once, she didn't care. "Did you find the drugs?"
He scowled. "Not a trace. Must have all floated away when the loft collapsed. I'm thankful you and the kids were well away by then."
She forced a smile. "I'm ready if you are. Let's go."
September liked the weight of his arm around her shoulders. She leaned against Combs as they walked together to his car. "Where are we going?"
"To a secret garden." He smiled, and took her hand, lacing their fingers together before opening the car door for her. He waited as she pulled her long skirt inside. "I hope you like it, that it's okay." He shut the door, and cracked his knuckles.
He's as nervous as me. Somehow, that made September relax.
They drove in companionable silence until she recognized the route. When he turned on Rabbit Run Road, she finally spoke. "My house? But there's nothing left. You said so."
He shrugged. "There's some of it left. Enough of the important parts, anyway." He cleared his throat. "I know with everything that's happened, you've got no choice except to move forward. To do that, you have to start somewhere. Right? Put the past in perspective so you can build on it and make a new future?" He rubbed his face. "Hell, I don't know what I'm saying. Maybe this was a bad idea."
Although puzzled, she reassured him. "It's fine. I want to go, need to see. Only I wasn't planning on it tonight." She reviewed her outfit, carefully chosen for a romantic evening, and sighed. September steeled herself, but still wasn't ready.
The old Victorian had stood for over a hundred years. Previous owners let it go to seed. It had been the designated witchy house when she was a kid, but had always intrigued her and made her sad, like an old dog once loved and now neglected. So, when September returned to Heartland last year, she'd bought the place, determined to restore it to its former glory.
In the process of creating her own personal safe haven, she'd created a gorgeous, glorious prison. The tornado had torn away the locks, ripped bars off stained glass windows, and destroyed the fancy security system. Only the shell of the haunted house remained. She wondered if ghosts ever stopped haunting the living.
They drove through the broken front gate, pulled into the circle drive and stopped. Combs waited, silent.
She took a big breath, smiled at him and pushed open the car door. "Since we're here, why not look, right?"
He got out, and hurried to meet her. "It's not all wrecked." He took her hand, and tugged her across the brick sidewalk past the missing carriage house to the back of the house. "Wait." He dropped her hand, hurried over to the damaged wall, and flipped a switch. Outside lights lit the back garden.
September’s mouth fell open. A gentle breeze moved dozens of wind chimes, creating fairy music. A stained glass table from her kitchen now sat on the grass, and held two place settings. A picnic basket waited for them, and a small stained glass lamp shined a cheery kaleidoscope on the brick walkway. "I can't believe anything survived."
"Like I said, not everything was trashed. Your brother's lamp and the table were untouched. The living room, too. The piano didn't make it, though. Sorry."
"Oh my heavens, the roses. That perfume. I wanted to rip them out. But now, oh my." She walked quickly to a busy plant covered with tiny pink blossoms, and another nearby boasting white starbursts. "The rain, all that cursed rain. It brought the roses back to life."
"Ripped some away, too." Combs pointed out several bare spots sandblasted by the storm. "And there." He pointed up, and she saw a bright rambler transplanted to the eaves, spilling a profusion of butter-colored petals in the wind.
Awed, she sighed. "That's Fortune's Double Yellow. Way too early for it to bloom."
Combs smiled. "Texas roses are tenacious; they bloom and grow wherever they land."
"Guess the bare spots make room for the new. For the future, maybe?"
He smiled, and held out his hand. "There's food. Don't worry, it's catered, I wouldn't dare try to cook. But it smells pretty yummy."
Before she'd taken two steps toward the table, a sound stopped her cold. "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" He held the chair for her, but cocked his head. "September?"
It came again, a soughing carried on the wind she felt more than heard. She took another step toward him. "You must hear that. Please, tell me I'm not crazy." Her breath quickened. Please, not now. But it didn't feel like any flashback she'd had.
"Are you okay? I'm here." Combs wrapped her in his arms. And then he stiffened when it came again.
"You heard it too. You did." And she tore out of his arms, running, running, stumbling, getting up and racing toward the sound, the whimpering cry, the voice she'd heard every night in her dreams for a week, certain it would never come again. "I'm coming, I'm coming!"
Combs raced with her, matching her step for step, their breath as one. There. Now louder. He stopped when they saw him. Combs let her go on by herself.
Shadow stood on the other side of the garden fence. Covered in caked mud from paw to shoulder, muzzle and neck stained with blood, she could count his ribs. He couldn't get through to reach her, but tried with all his might to force his way in. His voice nearly gone, he still warbled his happiness with garbled, heart-breaking gasps.
September dropped to her knees as close as she could get. "Oh baby-dog, my sweet boy." She pushed her arms through the fence, trying to hold him, to touch him, but the bars kept them apart. Her hand came back red with blood. "He's hurt."
Combs grabbed her waist and lifted her, and she struggled. "No, no, no I can't leave him; we have to get him help." And he set her gently down on the other side of the fence.
Then Shadow was in her arms, burrowing his head into her neck, licking her face, tail bruising her—oh, bliss. And Combs had leaped the fence.
"I'm not leaving either of you." His strong arms encircled them both. "You're my family. This is where we begin."
