Ruff Around the Edges Page 8

  “Good to see you again, Beck.”

  She inched back from the light embrace. “Did you get my message? I wanted to thank you for all you did to get Ruff home to me.” She added a smile. “Or to Aidan.”

  He sighed noisily. “It’s a tough situation, and I wanted you two to work it out. The only reason I hadn’t returned your call yet was overextended office hours. I’m sorry.”

  “No apology necessary. I’m so grateful, and happy you can see him today. But…” She turned to the woman next to her. “But I guess you’re next in line.”

  The cat lady smiled, her pretty green eyes sparking as she looked at the vet and not Beck. “I’m in no hurry, Daniel. Rosie’s shots can wait a few minutes.”

  “Thanks, Bella. I appreciate your patience.”

  The woman closed the magazine and waved a pink-tipped hand. “No problem. You can pay me back with that cup of coffee you promised.”

  “Of course.” He took a few steps closer and crouched down next to Ruff. “It definitely looks like this guy needs some attention.”

  “Do you think something’s seriously wrong?” Beck asked, unable to hide her worry.

  Dr. Kilcannon stroked the dog’s head and looked at Beck, his blue eyes startling and familiar. It was easy to see where Aidan got his looks. “Let’s take him back and do an exam,” he said, standing and gently bringing the dog with him. “But I’m pretty sure I have a son at home suffering from the same malaise. They miss each other.”

  Beck sighed. “I’m doing my best with him.”

  “I’ve no doubt of that. And you did the right thing by bringing him in.”

  Following him to the back of the office, Beck glanced over her shoulder to thank the woman for giving up her place in line and Pru for the help. As she did, she could have sworn Pru and the woman were looking at each other with raised brows and secret smiles.

  She didn’t quite know what to make of that, but if they thought she was giving up Ruff because Aidan wanted him, they were barking up the wrong tree…so to speak.

  But if seeing Aidan would make Ruff feel better, she would take him for a visit in a heartbeat. She already loved the dog and would do anything for him. Even face the man who wanted to take him from her.

  * * *

  From the corner of his eye, Aidan saw something move, but he kept his head down, pushing the edging machine, drowning out everything with the blaring wail of a prog rock guitarist screaming in his earbuds.

  Suddenly, someone poked his back, and he spun around, whipping one earpiece off at the sight of his little sister, all made up and wearing a dress.

  “We’re back from church,” Darcy announced, like the world should stop on this news. “Where are you?”

  As always, her blue eyes danced with some kind of secret, probably the knowledge that she was and always would be the brightest and most beautiful creature for miles. Her long blond hair fell in waves over her shoulders, and even the prissy sundress she wore to church looked like the latest fashion on her.

  “I’m right in front of you, numskull.” As the two youngest in the Kilcannon pack, they shared an unspoken bond, and though she was as pesky as that hairball she called a dog and was given to wandering the globe every time she had a chance, Aidan adored her. She knew it and gave him a toothy grin in response.

  “Very funny, goober breath.”

  He rolled his eyes, refusing to be dragged back to elementary school with a thirty-year-old woman. “What do you want, Darcy?”

  “You. At Sunday dinner. Dad’s home from covering for Molly in town, and the rest of us are back from church. You know what that means.”

  It meant another interminable family meal where any and all Kilcannons who were in town would gather at the house. They’d drink in the kitchen, talk family business, tease each other relentlessly, and probably finish up the day with a rousing game of Mario Kart or, if the trails were good, a late afternoon ride on the four-wheelers. And they’d all act like nothing had changed at Waterford Farm, like it was still the same place they’d grown up.

  Except now it was a business and no longer a home.

  Aidan swallowed and wiped his brow with his forearm, sweat stinging his eyes. “I want to finish cleaning this pen. I promised Shane I’d get it done before some buttload of trainees shows up tomorrow.”

  Her delicately brushed brows drew together. “You’d rather mow the lawn than drink cocktails? What’s up with that?”

  He shrugged and stuck the earbud back in, turning around. “I’ll get something to eat later.”

  She snapped the thing right out again and got in his face. “What the heck is wrong with you, Aidan?”

  “Darcy, let it go.”

  “Let go of the fact that you want to cut grass instead of coming to Sunday dinner? I guess you don’t mind Gramma Finnie marching over here and knocking you upside the head. Church might be optional, but Sunday dinner isn’t.”

  He studied her for a minute, knowing his sister’s proclivity to leave home at the first sign of anything less than perfect. Yet, here she stayed. Sometimes for months at a time, before taking a trip to satisfy her wanderlust, then she came back. Lived here, actually, in a suite of rooms on the second floor. And, God knew, she was a tad old to be living at home, as Dad gently reminded her on occasion.

  “Haven’t you ever not wanted to be part of a big family thing every week, Darcy?”

  “I travel enough to appreciate the family when I’m back.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “And you’ve been gone the better part of ten years, big brother. I’d think you’d love some good old-fashioned family time.”

  “If it was the good old-fashioned family.”

  She drew back. “What’s that supposed to mean? You have problems with the additional in-laws around the table? Because your brothers have never been happier, and Molly is positively on a cloud with Trace.”

  “I have problems with…” He jammed the edger into the ground and looked past her. “It’s not the same as when I left.”

  “That’s the beauty of it,” she lobbed back.

  His eyes widened in disbelief. “Mom’s gone, Darcy.”

  She flinched, but lifted her chin in defense of any pain that reminder might cause. “Yes, she is, and we all miss her more than there are words to describe. But she would not want us to mope around miserable. Can’t you remember her, Aidan? All she wanted was for us to be happy.”

  Remember her? She was all he could think about around here. “‘You’re only as happy as your least-happy child,’” he said, quoting the words that really should be on Annie Kilcannon’s gravestone.

  “So she sure wouldn’t be happy seeing her big, beautiful warrior listening to…” She took the earbud and put it to her ear. “Ugh. Progressive rock. All alone in the training pen while the rest of us are tossing back Bloody Marys and Jamesons.”

  “She wouldn’t know what the training pen is, because this used to be her old cement-floor kennel rimmed in wire for her fosters that we hosed off when we were kids.”

  She searched his face, thinking before responding. “Waterford has changed, Aidan, that’s true. Do you think Dad’s idea to turn this place into the largest facility of its type in the state was a bad one?” When he didn’t answer, she leaned closer. “You were here when he came down the morning after her funeral. You heard him tell us about her dream to build a place like this and have every one of the Kilcannons and their families be part of it. It was her plan to love dogs and keep her family together. And this place is her legacy, keeping her alive forever.”

  He swallowed when she finished her speech. “Of course I remember that day.” How could he forget that sad morning when Dad, a brand-new and broken widower, stood in front of his six grown children and presented them with a new life plan. They’d all jumped on it, upending successful lives in different cities to move here and start this new version of Waterford Farm. Aidan had agreed, of course, but he’d known he was headed for Green Platoon and thought he’d be in the Arm
y for many more years. “But I wasn’t here for it all, Darcy.”

  “So you resent the rest of us for making it happen?”

  “No,” he denied hotly. “I don’t resent you. I just don’t feel like I’m part of it.”

  “So be part of it.”

  “How?” He looked around, his head shaking. “Look, kid, I know this might be Kilcannon family heresy, but I’m not a dog person. I love dogs, yes. I want one or two in my life forever.” Especially Ruff, but he stuffed that down, still not having come up with a way to get Beck Spencer to change her mind. “But I don’t know if I want to make a living training them or matching recues with new owners. That’s all well and good and honorable, but it’s not me.”

  She nodded, listening, taking it in. “Not all of us are dog whisperers,” she said. “Shane is, of course, and Liam is gifted with K-9 training, but Garrett couldn’t get Lola to eat until Jessie showed up. And Molly’s a doctor, not a trainer. And, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m a glorified hair stylist for puppies.”

  “You’re building a grooming business,” he countered.

  “One that works for me. Not too successful, because then I couldn’t take extended vacations and scratch my itch to travel.” She fluttered her fingers by her face, pretending to scratch and making a goofy face that still didn’t diminish her good looks.

  He ruffled her silky hair. “You’re so stinkin’ cute, Darcy. I’ll miss you if I leave.”

  Her smile evaporated instantly. “You’re leaving?”

  Shoot. Shouldn’t have said that. “No, no, I…” But his voice trailed off. “I’m restless.”

  “You’re looking at the queen of restless, big man. Let’s go hiking in Patagonia, and then we’ll settle in for another six months. Want to?” Her whole face lit up like sunshine, blinding and bright.

  “I don’t want to go to Patagonia.”

  “Where do you want to go?” He heard the heartbreak in her voice and knew they’d all feel that way if he up and left.

  “I don’t want to go anywhere, but…” He glanced out at the property, beyond the facility outbuildings, to the rolling foothills bursting with spring green. “Back to where this was when I left.”

  “You know what Gramma Finnie would say.”

  He laughed. “‘The past is yesterday’s tomorrow that only happened in a dream?’ Stitched on a pillow in Gaelic?”

  She shrugged, not joining in the joke. “Her sayings make sense to me. And one of them is ‘don’t let the past steal your present.’ And that’s what you’re doing, Aidan.”

  “Maybe I am, but I can’t help it if I feel like I don’t belong here.”

  “You have to find your place here,” she said. “You might have to make it.”

  He frowned, not entirely sure what she meant, but then he glanced over her shoulder, catching sight of his father, flanked by brothers Shane and Liam on one side and Garrett on the other, all crossing the wide wraparound porch and walking briskly toward them.

  “Oh man, you sent in backup.”

  Darcy turned to look at them. “No, but no one wants to have Sunday dinner without you, Aidan. We’ve had an empty chair for too many years where you should be.”

  But Mom’s wasn’t empty. That spot had somehow been…filled. Removed. Erased. Forgotten.

  “You can officially hang up your edging shears,” Shane called, lifting a glass in a mock toast. “In Molly’s absence, Liam made the Bloodys, and I don’t think I could have done better.”

  “Which is saying a lot coming from that ego,” Darcy joked under her breath, making Aidan laugh even though he wanted to hang on to his sour mood. And, to be fair, Shane had toned down his over-confidence since Chloe came into his life. He wasn’t cocky anymore, just happy and settled. Which was exactly what Aidan wasn’t.

  “I wanted to finish up,” he said as the four of them entered the pen and came closer. Dad was wearing work clothes, and it looked like the rest of them had joined the family for Mass. Gramma Finnie would be spewing joyful Irish proverbs of jubilation today.

  “You should clean up and come inside,” Dad said, the order issued with his usual ease and grace and the undertone of a general’s authority. “A surprise guest is coming, and I’m sure you’ll want to be there, Aidan.”

  “I didn’t know we had a guest,” Shane said. “Who’s coming?”

  Dad gestured toward the end of the long drive as if his mystery guest would be pulling up any minute. Who could be coming here that Aidan could possibly care about?

  “You’ll see,” Dad said. “Someone came into the office today, and I invited her for dinner.”

  “Her?” Garrett lifted a brow.

  “I know who it is,” Darcy said. “Pru told me the crazy cat lady, Bella Peterson, was in the office eyeing Dad like he was six feet o’ catnip. Dad, something you want to tell us?”

  Liam almost choked, but Dad laughed. “Give it up, all of you.”

  “Seriously.” Liam elbowed his brother. “Dad’s too busy setting us all up to worry about himself.”

  So they were actually joking about their father dating? What the hell?

  “I told you this special guest isn’t for me, it’s for Aidan.”

  “Oh yeah. Forgot the Dogfather has fresh blood,” Shane cracked.

  “Who is it?” Aidan asked, not really in the mood for games.

  At the sound of a car coming around from the front gate, they all turned, but Aidan caught the look of satisfaction on his father’s face. Whoever he’d invited, the old dog was happy about it.

  He squinted at the dark red compact, not recognizing it and not able to see the driver with the sun on the windshield. But then he saw a big brown head poking out of the passenger side, and the sight literally kicked him in the chest.

  “Ruff.” He threw a grateful look at Dad. “Is he back for good?”

  “No, but he’s got the blues bad enough that Beck brought him in for a checkup this morning. We agreed it was a good idea you two have a little reunion.”

  “So Ruff’s the dinner guest?” Garrett asked, fighting a laugh.

  “Well, Beck is staying, of course.”

  “Of course.” Shane’s emphasis might have amused his brothers, but Aidan didn’t give a crap.

  He was so damn glad to see Ruff, he walked away from the four men and his sister and headed straight to the car as she parked. The smile on his face was so big, he could feel it pulling his cheeks.

  When he opened the door and Ruff pounced, Aidan fell to the ground, his heart light for the first time in days. And with each lick of that stupid tongue and pounding of those relentless paws, it felt like the damn thing would pop right out of his chest.

  God, he missed this dog.

  “Hey, Aidan.”

  He managed to look over the crazy dog on top of him and up at Beck Spencer’s long dark hair and big brown eyes. This was what he needed. Ruff. Beck. And another chance.

  “Hi, Beck.” He gave her a slow smile. Time for round two, gorgeous. But this time, he’d fly at a completely different altitude.

  For the first time in months, he was looking forward to Sunday dinner.

  Chapter Eight

  No wonder her brother had spent so much time at Waterford Farm.

  Beck closed her eyes and listened to Daniel Kilcannon deliver a simple prayer of grace, not fifteen seconds in length. Right before he finished, she lifted her head to capture a mental picture of a family gathered in love, ranging in age from six to eighty-six, at least four dogs around the room or under the table. Every head was bowed while the man at the head of the table asked for a blessing on the food.

  If she’d gotten an actual photograph, Beck imagined she might study that shot for hours, trying to learn something about each person there and trying not to fall into an abyss that felt a lot like envy.

  She’d never had anything like this, at least not in Bitter Bark, North Carolina. Today, she felt like a person who’d gotten through life on a bicycle with flat tires suddenly ta
king a ride in a Rolls-Royce. Overwhelmed, inspired, thrilled, and envious of anyone who got to actually live like this.

  But not two seconds after “Amen,” the fun kicked in. Chatter arose, and the plates were passed with as much frequency and speed as the jokes. She’d figured out the pecking order pretty quickly during the “cocktail hour”—which was essentially the entire family around the kitchen island teasing their father about his lackluster cooking skills while sipping Bloody Marys.

  Aidan had disappeared for a while then, presumably to shower after running around the training pen with a very happy Ruff, and each of the Kilcannons had taken the time to introduce themselves and make her feel comfortable. Aidan had been warm—nice, even—but not overly so.

  She couldn’t quite get a read on how he felt about her being there, but it was obvious that seeing Ruff had made him happy. And vice versa.

  So, Beck gave in and got to know the family.

  Liam, the oldest, was married to a beautiful and quite pregnant Andi. They had a son, Christian, and they owned Jag, a German shepherd who was never more than two feet from the little boy. The baby was lovingly referred to as “BTB” for “Baby to Be” since they’d opted not to find out the gender in advance.

  Then there was Shane, the wisecracker, married to Chloe last month. She was the mastermind behind the Better Bark campaign to build tourism in town by attracting families with dogs, including their own sweetheart, Ruby.

  Garrett, the middle brother and former dot-com sensation, sat next to his wife, Jessie, who evidently had been Molly’s best friend as a kid, and it was Molly’s empty seat, next to her daughter, Pru, where Beck sat right now. In addition to Jag, there were dogs named Lola, Kookie, and Rusty, and one named Meatball stayed close to Pru.

  And Ruff, of course, who planted himself under Aidan’s chair.

  “You look befuddled.” Across the table, Darcy, who was about a year or so younger than Aidan, beamed a gorgeous smile at Beck. Everything about her was gorgeous, Beck mused, like all the fabulous Kilcannon genes had come together for one last hurrah on the final child.