Man's Best Friend (The Dogmothers Book 6) Page 11

  He shrugged. “I can cover the expenses. Judah’s my responsibility now.”

  “That’s very kind. I’m sure this is why his owner abandoned him,” she said, closing her eyes and shaking her head, always empathetic to an animal’s plight.

  “No doubt,” he agreed. “Medical costs are probably the number one reason people surrender animals.”

  She leaned in. “But then, thank God, someone like you, with a heart of gold, pays for their medical treatments.”

  “You think I have a heart of gold?”

  “Yes.” She answered without a second’s hesitation, which did something stupid to his insides. Or maybe that was being less than two feet from Evie, making plans, solving problems, and talking like they used to.

  “We’ve always been a good team, E.”

  “Do you want to be in the OR, too?” she asked with a smile.

  “I’m saying that…the thing your grandfather mentioned, about the ba—”

  She put her hand over his mouth. “Don’t.”

  “I want to know if you—”

  “It’s off the table,” she said simply. “In fact, there isn’t a table. Discussion closed.”

  But he had to ask. He had to know. “You don’t want a baby, Evie? You don’t want a child of your own?”

  She searched his face for a long time, silent, no doubt formulating an answer that could formally end the conversation.

  “That’s just it,” she finally whispered. “It wouldn’t be my own.”

  Of course. She was right. It would be his, too. And that was obviously a problem for her.

  Who could blame her after how he’d shut her out all those years? He deserved this. And didn’t deserve her.

  The door opened, and Judah came galumphing in with Dr. Rafferty, reminding Declan that he already sort of had a kid now—a four-legged one. And that might have to be enough.

  * * *

  Granddaddy was asleep when Evie went up to get his tray and check on Judah, who was curled up and comfy in his bed, snoozing as deeply as the other guy in the room. So she took the tray downstairs, knowing the conversation she wanted to have with her grandfather would have to wait until tomorrow.

  She’d had a chance earlier, but the truth was, since she’d been home from Vestal Valley College, she hadn’t had the heart—or nerve—to ask Granddaddy about…

  Declan’s baby.

  Why would Granddaddy suggest something like that? And why couldn’t she stop obsessing about it? She’d done such a good job of putting the baby dream in a compartment she rarely opened, and now, there it was, calling her and demanding she…imagine.

  No, she wouldn’t go there.

  Instead, she hummed to herself while she put dishes in the dishwasher and wiped off the tray, then checked the time and realized she hadn’t made herself dinner yet. As she was walking to the fridge to see what she could scare up, she heard a soft tap at the front door, and her heart did a little jump.

  Declan?

  She tamped down the little jolt of excitement, heading to the front hall to see the silhouette of a person who was definitely a man, but that wasn’t Declan’s tall, commanding physique.

  “Can I help you?” she called through the leaded glass.

  “I’m looking for the owner of this house,” a man said. “My name is James Bell. I’ve left a few messages with Mr. Hewitt, but I understand he’s not feeling well.”

  Bitter Bark wasn’t exactly a hotbed of crime, but she wasn’t about to open the door to a stranger. Plus, it was too late for company even if Granddaddy did know the man.

  “Can you leave your number and what you need? I can speak to him tomorrow and see if he can contact you.”

  “Sure. I’ll leave my card. I’m interested in buying this house.”

  She inched back, eyes wide. “Really?”

  “If you’re not selling, ma’am, I understand. But I’ve been in love with this house for years. I don’t want to miss the opportunity to make an offer on it, should you be accepting them.”

  Curiosity got the better of her, making her open the door, but she left the chain on. “It’s not on the market,” she said.

  A man in his mid-forties, with reddish hair, wire frames, and a narrow build, stood a few feet away, wearing a button-down shirt and crisp khaki pants, writing something on a card.

  “I’m giving you my office and cell numbers on here.” He smiled at her and pushed back his glasses with his wrist, where lines of black ink peeked out from his cuff. Surprising for a guy who looked like an accountant. “I really hate to be this bold, walking up to the door and ringing the bell like a loon, but…God, I want this house.”

  A thread of something curled through her, a feeling she couldn’t quite describe. Not jealousy, exactly. Not pride. Not resentment. But a bit of all three. “It’s a wonderful house,” she agreed. And whoever got to live in it would be very lucky.

  He lowered the card and pen, and his shoulders sank. “You’re not going to sell it, are you.” It wasn’t a question, and his disappointment was clear. “I figured it was a crazy dream.”

  “Actually, we might. Hang on.” Someone in love with the house might pay top dollar when the time came—and with all that had to be done to bring it up to date, that could be a blessing for her parents. Mom would want to at least get a read on the guy. If they sold it without a realtor, it would be easy and fast, when the time came. Better for people living in the Caribbean, for sure.

  With all that rationalization and the fact that the man seemed sincere and was not the least bit threatening, she closed the door, slid the chain, and then reopened it to have a proper conversation. “I’m Evie Hewitt,” she said, extending her hand. “My grandfather is Max.”

  “James Bell.” His fingers were cold, his grip strong. “Will you be managing his estate?”

  She flinched at that. “He’s very much alive and sleeping upstairs.”

  “Oh, sorry. God.” He shook his head and pushed at those glasses again. “I know that. I do. I’ve done a little digging around town. In fact, I used to live near here, but now I’m in Charlotte.”

  “And you’re looking to buy a house in Bitter Bark?”

  “I run my own consulting business and can work anywhere. Truth is, my fiancée and I have driven by here a million times, and she’s nuts about this place, too.” He let out a little sigh and added a goofy smile. “I want to give her the house as a wedding present. I happened to be nearby on business today and thought I’d give this a try. I know, knocking on the door and asking to buy a house is a little strange, but if I get it, I want it to be a surprise for Jenny. I mean, assuming…if there’s any chance…if you sell.”

  His nervousness was a little endearing, along with his story. “Well, we’re not selling yet, Mr. Bell. We likely won’t before your wedding.”

  “Please, call me Jim.” He handed her his card. “And we can wait on the wedding. In fact…” He let out a sigh. “The house might be the very thing to make my hard-to-pin-down lady finally set a date.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  He laughed nervously. “I’m babbling, ma’am, and I’m sure you’re not interested in my story. But this is the closest I’ve ever gotten…” He inched to one side to look past her into the house, closing his eyes with a grunt. “And of course the stairs are red. Exactly like we imagined.”

  Well, she wasn’t going to invite him in, no matter how sweet his story or how much he hinted at it. Not to mention how sad it would make Granddaddy to know they were even talking about selling.

  “I’ll keep your card, Mr. Bell. If and when we’re ready to put it on the market, I’ll call you.”

  “Could I make an appointment to see it sometime? Not now, obviously. I would never be that rude. But sometime?”

  “Let me think about it.”

  “All right, and while you’re at it, turn over that card and think about that number. Please consider it a starting offer.”

  She glanced down.

  “Go a
head, take a look. I want you to know I’m serious.”

  She flipped the card and stared at the seven-digit number. “Oh…” She barely breathed the word.

  “I’m interested in the furnishings, too. Any and all that you’d leave. I’ll take everything as is.”

  Which would thrill her mother.

  “I want the house, ma’am.”

  He certainly did. “Well, thank you so—” A high-pitched howl echoed behind her, making her suck in a sudden breath. “Judah!”

  “Your dog? Or a wolf?” he joked.

  “Right the first time.” She inched back and put a hand on the door to close it, lifting the card with the other. “Thank you, Mr. Bell…Jim.”

  “Think about it, please.”

  “I will.”

  Judah howled again, even louder, if that was possible, so she closed the door quickly, flipped the dead bolt, and jogged toward the stairs. She picked up speed on the third howl, not at all sure of what she’d find when she finally reached Granddaddy’s door.

  Rushing into the room, she came to a sudden stop…not expecting that.

  “He wants to get on the bed, Evie.” Her grandfather was sitting up, smoothing the covers next to him as if he was making space. “But every time he lifts his head, he cries.”

  “It’s his spine,” she said. “He could probably use another dose of medicine, and…do you want him up there?”

  “More than anything, right, boy?” He patted the bed and gave a toothless grin to Judah, who stood next to the bed with nothing but longing and frustration on his face. “He’s good company.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Granddaddy. I thought you were asleep.”

  “He woke me up. Can you put him up here?”

  “Let me get a pill in him and take him out one last time. Then I’ll bring him back and get him on the bed.”

  “Well, hurry it up, or I’ll be asleep again.” He beamed at Judah. “But I need some company in here.”

  She took care of the dog and gave him some chicken with his painkiller, then walked him back upstairs to find Granddaddy still wide awake.

  “Okay, Judah.” Evie wrapped her arms around him. “Up you go, big guy.”

  With a soft grunt and braced feet, she lifted his back half, helping him onto the bed.

  He immediately walked up to get next to Granddaddy, going right to his face to give it a grateful lick with his long tongue.

  “Well, he sure likes you,” she said with a chuckle.

  “I like him right back. Now you settle there, Judah, and I’ll tell you a story until we’re both asleep.”

  Her heart practically folded in half as she watched the dog carefully position himself where he was comfortable and Granddaddy was safe.

  “God, we don’t deserve dogs,” she whispered as her whole being swelled with affection.

  Granddaddy patted the thick fur with his spotted, knotted hand. “Once upon a time,” he started, “there was a man named Thad.”

  “The first or junior?” Evie asked with a smile.

  “The first. I’m going to tell him the whole story of our great family line, since he’s part of it now.”

  “Um, he’s Declan’s dog.”

  “Like I said, he’s family now.”

  She shot him a look, but he was fully immersed in petting Judah, and the last thing she wanted to do was get him worked up over whatever he’d said to Declan. It could wait until morning.

  She walked over to the window seat to settle in and listen. He started with how Thaddeus Ambrose Bushrod, a captain in the British Royal Navy, had moved to America to stake his claim and build a small town in North Carolina. From there, Big Bad Thad, as they called the man who stood more than six and a half feet, marked off the town square and opened the first business, a bar the locals still called Bushrod’s.

  Evie looked out the window as the evening lights of that very town flickered to life, a half moon rising over the square named after her great-great-great-grandfather.

  He said you should have a baby…my baby.

  She closed her eyes and listened to the biographies of all the Bushrods and Hewitts who’d come before her and gave up the fight.

  While Granddaddy droned on, she let herself sink into a dream she thought she’d long ago given up.

  Chapter Ten

  Declan had texted only, Coming over around ten, because texting Evie, I can’t freaking stay away, would probably have a stalker-y tone. Let her think he wanted to check on Judah, which he did, but he’d thrown enough tools in the truck to do more than that.

  He’d start with the broken stair rail, take a look at the warped windows, then work his way through the house to help with whatever it needed. It was the least he could do for how much she was doing for Judah.

  And it was the best way to spend more time with her…which, face it, was all he really wanted. And maybe, with a little time, he could find a way to say the words she deserved to hear. Over the past few days, it had been all about Judah, but now, he had to man up and take whatever fury or heartache he had coming his way.

  She opened the door before he made his way up the walk, locking her hands on her hips, which accentuated the narrowness of her waist and long legs in jeans, eyeing the toolbox he carried. “Bringing a screwdriver so you can loosen up?”

  Laughing, he lifted the metal toolbox in his right hand. “Friends don’t let friends’ windows stick.”

  “Declan.”

  “Evie,” he echoed, their old joke so natural it kind of took his breath away. “I told you I’d be your handyman.”

  Her eyes flickered at that, and an expression he couldn’t quite decipher crossed her face, which looked prettier every time he saw her. “You don’t have to work today?” she asked as she let him in.

  “I’m off today. I have twelve hours tomorrow and twenty-four on Thursday and Friday, but then I’m free all weekend.” He stepped past her, stealing a whiff of her feminine scent and letting their arms brush because it was nice.

  “That’s not too bad.”

  “Perk of being the one who makes the schedule,” he said, heading right to the newel to set the toolbox on the stairs. “How’s Judah?”

  “Attached to his new best friend.”

  He turned, a smile pulling. “Max?”

  “They’re inseparable. They slept together last night.”

  He fought the urge to let his gaze travel over her T-shirt and jeans again and crack a joke about sleeping together. Nope. Too soon. “No word from Vestal Valley on the surgery yet?”

  “Not yet.” She joined him at the bottom of the steps, looking up at him with those bright blue eyes that always reminded him of a cut-glass perfume bottle Gramma Finnie owned. “But you might not have too much work to do after all.”

  “How’s that?”

  “A man came by here last night and made an offer on the house. As is.”

  “You have it on the market?” How did he not know that?

  “No. But if it ever is, he wants to buy it as a surprise wedding present for his fiancée, because they’ve been in love with the house for years. He made a starting offer that knocked my socks off.”

  “Wow.” He shifted his attention to the newel, rocking the solid wood back and forth in his hands to try to figure out how the original carpenter had affixed it and why it wasn’t a solid piece of wood.

  And why this news of hers sent a punch into his gut that he didn’t understand. Not that it was hard to surmise. Once her grandfather died and she sold this house, Evie Hewitt would have no reason to ever come back to Bitter Bark.

  “Wow is right. I called my parents this morning, and they were pretty psyched.”

  “They really don’t want to keep this house?” He flipped open the toolbox.

  “They really don’t,” she confirmed. “Plus, the offer was seven digits, and the first wasn’t a one.”

  He let out a low whistle. “Holy…wow. That’s a lot of cash for Bitter Bark.”

  “Seriously.” She reached
into the toolbox and pulled out a wrench, holding it up. “This is not a drill. Repeat. Not a drill.”

  “Har-har. Nailed it.”

  “Ooh, good one.” She plucked through the box, picking up a wire cutter. “Unlike this guy who tried to be punny, but he just couldn’t cut it.”

  He cracked up, swamped by a sudden rush of good feeling. “So how does Max feel about this house offer?”

  “I kind of avoid the subject of the house with him,” she admitted, putting the wire cutter down. “He knows my parents aren’t leaving the Caribbean, and I can’t take care of the house from three and a half hours away. Plus, who wants to talk about it when it means talking about him…” She lifted a shoulder. “Obviously, he’s not going to live forever, but I personally would like to believe that he might.”

  “He thinks he’s checking out any minute,” Declan said. “But nothing is really wrong with him, right?”

  “Nothing but boredom with this world and hope he’ll see Grandmama Penelope in the next,” she said wistfully.

  He found the weak spot in the newel, bracing on the top step to work on it. “Well, it sure is a one-of-a-kind house.”

  She studied him for a long time, and he could practically taste the question before she asked it.

  “Is it hard for you to come here, Dec?” she asked gently. “I would understand if it is.”

  He didn’t answer right away, still using all his strength to try to jiggle the jammed but unsteady newel free. “Not gonna lie, I’ve never liked driving by this place. And not only because of the bad memory, but…” He looked at her. “All the good ones, too.”

  She smiled. “Like the time we stayed up all night doing our science projects?”

  “And yours won, naturally.” He shook his head, remembering what a mess his had been, while her presentation boards had been perfect. “And remember when you dared me to ride a flattened cardboard box down these stairs and your grandmother caught me?”

  She laughed so hard she almost snorted, the sound like music to his ears. “Oh my God, your face when she came around that corner.”

  “I told her I was practicing for sledding season.” He did snort on the next laugh. “I damn near peed my pants in fear.”