One Day in Apple Grove(11)
Unsure if she would, he made sure to drive at a snail’s pace for the first couple of minutes until he saw that she had pulled out behind him and was indeed following him home. The woman Caitlin had become intrigued him.
He’d been blindsided when she’d looked up at him with the ball of black fluff in her arms. The contrast of black and strawberry blonde caught his attention—and then she’d smiled up at him. Steadier now that there was enough distance between them, he gradually picked up speed until he was cruising along Eden Church Road toward the railroad tracks.
He’d bought his parents’ house from them when they’d told him their plans to retire. It was closer to the church than the center of town, but he loved the rambling old Victorian with the two-acre yard and detached garage. He’d spent his childhood exploring their yard and the trees just beyond, getting into scrapes and stumbling home with stories of the pretend battles he’d fought against imaginary foes. Little did he realize that he would relive that part of his life across the ocean in a land he could never have conjured up in his ten-year-old mind—in battles that were very, very real.
Flicking on his turn signal, he slowed down and eased his Jeep onto his street, grateful that he would have a few minutes to bury the distracting memories—both recent and childhood—before Caitlin pulled up alongside him in his driveway.
He got out and opened her door as she was reaching across the seat to pick up the little black dog. The little ball of fuzz nibbled on her braid. She was laughing as she corrected the pup and Jack wondered if he’d gone off the deep end or just broken through the surface and was experiencing life anew.
Unsure of himself for the first time since he’d shipped out on his first tour as a corpsman attached to a marine unit, he dug deep to keep his emotions under control. Rough water ahead, mate, he cautioned himself. Don’t get too close to the siren on the rocks—you’ll go down for sure!
Caitlin smiled up at him as she scooted out of her car, her arms filled with the wriggling little dog, and thoughts of sea sirens and mermaids filled his tired brain, twinning with the image of Caitlin’s long, wavy, strawberry-kissed hair streaming out around her. Shaking his head to clear it, he said, “Let’s see if we can find something for him to sleep in tonight.”
Unaware of the direction of his thoughts, the middle Mulcahy sister snuggled the puppy close to her heart and walked toward the house. “A box with an old blanket would probably work for this little guy.”
“How do you know if you’ve never had a dog?”
Her smile seemed wistful as she answered, “The McCormacks always had a dog.”
It wasn’t so much what she said as how she said it that made him realize that Caitlin needed to be a part of taking care of this little dog as much as he did. Anticipating their time together and the discoveries ahead of them, Jack opened the back door and held it for her. “Come on in. I’ll make us some coffee while you see if Butch here likes his temporary surroundings.”
Cait chuckled, holding the dog out in front of her to look at him. “You don’t look like a Butch to me. Maybe Scamp or Scooter. Something playful.” While he poured cold water into the coffeemaker and hit the brew button, he kept an eye on Caitlin. She lowered herself to the floor and sat Indian-style on the worn paint-speckled linoleum floor, encouraging his new tenant to curl up in her lap. The contrast of the willow-slim woman curving herself around the little dog so that he’d settle down tugged at his heart.
Cait’s slow smile had him wondering if his mom’s favorite saying was true and everything did happen for a reason.
Chapter 3
Her phone rang and she shifted to answer it, cradling the pup in her arms. Whoever it was, she told them she was busy and would call back. After she disconnected, he asked, “Milk? Sugar?”
Her sigh sounded so forlorn, he had to stifle the urge to reach out and pat the back of her hand. They’d known one another forever, but only as acquaintances, someone you passed on the street and waved to—not someone you would open your heart to or hug close to make the sadness go away.
Odd, but that last thought wormed its way closer to his heart…and for the first time in too many years to count, he yearned for a simpler life—one without complications—where he could hold a woman in his arms and let the world go by. He couldn’t change his past, but he could try to control his future. Setting those thoughts aside, he waited for her to answer.
She looked up at him, studying his face for a moment before responding. “I like milk.”
He held up the sugar bowl, but she wasn’t paying attention to him. When he cleared his throat, she finally looked up and laughed as he shook the sugar bowl from side to side.