Home is Where the Hound Is
Auteur
Melissa Senate
Lezers
17,0K
Hoofdstukken
20
Chapter One
Years ago, Bethany Robeson had figured out the secret cure for whatever ailed her. If she was feeling grumpy, had a bad day, got socked by old memories or had too many bills to pay, all she had to do was look for the nearest dog. And given that she’d worked in animal rescue until very recently, dogs had been aplenty. From purebreds to mixed breeds, from tiny toy poodles to shaggy medium-sized mutts to mighty Newfoundlands, a furry body and wagging tail would warm her heart and restore her spirit.
She needed that right now. She sat in her car in a parking spot on Main Street, windows down to let in the early spring breeze, and watched a beagle pad beside his owner on the sidewalk. The adorable dog stopped to sniff a patch of grass near the curb by the coffee shop, and Bethany grinned as he lifted his head and let out a joyful howl. Ahoooo.
The beagle was very helpful right now. Bethany had just arrived in Spring Forest, and being back here—for only the second time in twelve years—made her feel equally stabby and sad. And more than a little nervous about what she was about to face.
Questions. Rumors. Old classmates. Particular old classmates.
Bethany had been the black sheep of her hometown. Never mind that she’d been quiet, studious, had kept to herself and hadn’t had her first kiss until her senior year. She’d been branded the town good-time girl in middle school because of who her mother was. Assumptions made, lies told, conclusions drawn.
As Bethany got out of her car, she wanted to jump back in and drive away. Which was silly. She had to be here to take care of some uncomfortable business. Then she’d leave. She’d be in Spring Forest a few days, tops. Besides, she and her supposed past were surely long forgotten in the small North Carolina town.
Or not.
Because the moment she shut the car door, she could hear whispers. About herself.
“Omigod, is that Bethany Robeson?”
“Did you hear she inherited Elliot Bradley’s house?”
Audible gasp. “So he was her father?”
Bethany sighed. You’ve got to be kidding me, she thought as she walked over to the two women—yup, old classmates—sitting outside the coffee shop at a round table. “Number one,” she said to them, “I can hear you. Number two, my life is none of your concern. Wasn’t back in high school, isn’t now.”
Head held high, she pulled open the door to the coffee shop and walked in without waiting to listen to their stammered apologies or protests. The old Bethany, who hadn’t known how to stand up for herself, was gone. She liked this new version of herself. A little time, some life experience and many years spent far from Spring Forest had taken care of that. She ordered an iced mocha and glanced out the front window. The two women who’d been talking about her were getting up, taking turns staring at her as they left. Some things never changed. But Bethany had.
Thing was, though, Bethany also wanted to know if she was Elliot Bradley’s daughter. Her mother had been his longtime mistress, and despite their discretion, everyone in town had seemed to know about the affair. Elliot had never come to the apartment before Bethany was asleep, had never spent the night, yet she’d spied them together several times. One instance stood out. She’d been twelve, had woken up in the middle of the night and had seen them by the door of her and her mother’s apartment, whispering goodbye with such feeling in their eyes and voices, and then kissing—the way couples did in the movies. Her relationship with her mother had always been complicated, but in that moment, she’d known one thing with absolute certainty. Her mother loved Elliot. And he loved her.
That love didn’t change anything, of course. They were cheating, running around behind Elliot’s wife’s back—for years. Decades. At the very least, for all of Bethany’s life, until her mother’s death. But something about the depth of their feelings for each other had affected Bethany, both positively and negatively.
People were complicated. Life was complicated. Love was complicated.
Vows shouldn’t be, though. Maybe that was why Bethany had never gotten married. Lack of trust in the institution. Or maybe that was just an excuse. She’d really tried to figure it out over the years. She’d gotten her heart broken hard at eighteen, not even by the guy involved—talk about complicated—and that had made her wary of even committing to relationships.
She’d surprised herself by her trust in Shane Dupree back then. At seventeen, she’d had years of practice in expecting disdain from others. She was twelve when she first heard the word trashy thrown at her, fifteen when slut had been written in marker on her high school locker, on her desk. She’d spent most of high school running into bathroom stalls to quietly break down and cry only to find cruel things written about her on the walls. Bethany Robeson is such a whore. Like mother like daughter.
She’d gotten through those years by studying hard, working part-time, volunteering and keeping very busy. If she developed a crush on a boy she’d tamp down her feelings, afraid he’d shun her the way girls did, afraid he’d expect the rumors to be true. She turned down every boy who asked her out. The ones who didn’t like that just acted as if she’d said yes and then spread rumors about what they’d done during their “date.” That was how she’d ended up seventeen and unkissed—with a very bad reputation.
Then came senior year, when everything changed—including her unexpected friendship with Shane Dupree. Her relationship with the very cute guy who sat beside her in history class had turned into everything Bethany had ever dreamed of. He’d been her first everything.
Don’t think about him, she told herself as she sipped her iced mocha on the way out of the coffee shop. Focus on the house Elliot Bradley left you and getting rid of it.
Was he her father? The rumors had trailed Bethany all her life and now, at age thirty, she still wasn’t sure. The inheritance sure made it seem so. They’d really only known each other in passing. He’d said maybe ten words to her over the decades, a hello here and there around town if it couldn’t be avoided.
He hadn’t come to her mom’s funeral. That had made her certain he wasn’t her father.
Maybe there’d been no one else to leave the house to but the daughter of his mistress of twenty-five years. He had no family. His wife had passed four years ago—a year after Bethany’s mother—and there were no children. Except perhaps her. Her mom hadn’t been one to give straight answers, not when Bethany was a child and had asked repeatedly, and not even on the day she died. Maybe her mother truly hadn’t known either. Local talk made it clear that before she’d met Elliot, Kate Robeson had had a few other boyfriends, then the sun rose and set on the tall, handsome lawyer. Bethany had come along within a year of Kate meeting Elliot. She was either his child—or one of the previous boyfriends’. The question had frustrated her over the years to the point that she’d made a deal with herself to stop thinking about it for her own peace of mind.
But then Elliot, whose sterling reputation hadn’t been the least tarnished by his extramarital affair in a typical double standard, had brought it all back up again by leaving Bethany his beautiful colonial on Oak Street.
Right next door to the Dupree family.
Another...issue.
Chances were pretty good that the Duprees still lived there. The house had been in the family for three generations. After she fortified herself with enough caffeine, Bethany would drive over to Elliot’s place. If she were lucky, and sometimes she was, she wouldn’t run into a Dupree while she was pulling into the driveway next door, intending to give the house a quick once-over to see how fast she could sell it.
Her plan: get it on the market ASAP and then put Spring Forest in her rearview mirror.
Iced coffee finished, she tossed the cup in a trash can and headed to her car, almost colliding with a woman walking a basset hound with an Adopt Me banner over his back. Bethany glanced at the woman’s sweatshirt logo: Furever Paws Animal Rescue. A place Bethany knew well. The dog, low to the ground with soulful brown eyes and long droopy ears, was so beautiful.
Bethany asked if she could pet him, getting a smile and a “Go right ahead” and “Are you interested in adopting Meatball? He’s been with Furever Paws for too long and needs a loving home.”
Meatball. Aww. Bethany knelt beside him, her heart unexpectedly clenching, the dog’s soft hair feeling so good in her hands as he sheepishly looked at her, head cast down.
Or maybe not so unexpectedly. Yes, dogs always cheered her up, but she was quick to empathize with them, too—especially when they seemed to be having their own rough time. Meatball was overweight, definitely on the shy side and appeared to be in his senior years. Advanced age alone would make it a struggle to find him a forever home. Add the weight and timidity, and a darling dog was left behind. Bethany was practically an expert in hard-to-adopt dogs. Until just two weeks ago, she’d been the assistant director of an animal shelter three hours south of Spring Forest, but the place had closed due to lack of funds. Bethany had practically gone bankrupt trying to save the shelter. She’d exhausted herself, working so many extra hours to fundraise and then, when it was hopeless, to help place their dear animals with fosters or other area shelters.
If only the call from Elliot’s lawyer about the house had come two weeks earlier, she could have single-handedly saved the shelter. But it was too late, the building sold and already razed for a big-box store as if the staff and volunteers hadn’t left huge pieces of their hearts there.
She gave Meatball a good rub, earning a slight raise of his sweet face. Aww. “I’m just visiting,” she said to the woman, noting the pin under the Furever Paws logo: Volunteer. Just as Bethany had been for years before she’d left town.
A couple with an excited young child came up to the woman and Meatball, asking questions, so Bethany smiled and hurried to her car.
How can anyone resist you, Meatball? she wondered, turning on the engine. What a sweet, calm dog.
Thinking of the needs of animals like Meatball just reinforced her plan for her future. She’d sell Elliot Bradley’s house and use the money to open her own shelter back in Berryville, where she lived. That was part two of the plan. Hard to adopt dogs—bring ’em.
She wanted nothing to do with Elliot Bradley’s money for herself. But funding for a nonprofit animal rescue that would find loving homes for dogs and cats and the occasional rabbit or bird or lizard or rodent? You bet she’d use every penny of the money for the good in that.
On the way to Elliot’s house—she still couldn’t think of it as her house—she tried to steel herself. She slowly drove past the Dupree home just as the white front door opened. Her heart sped up and she quickly pulled into Elliot’s driveway, slinking down and turning away.
Ugh. Please don’t let it be Shane’s mother about to come outside. The woman who drove me out of town twelve years ago just when I’d finally found a reason to stay.
Bethany dared a peek at the neighboring home’s front door.
It wasn’t Anna Dupree.
No. The person walking out of the house, holding the pink leash of a cinnamon-colored Chihuahua, was at least six foot two. Tall and leanly muscular. With slightly long, sexy sandy-brown hair.
And had a blue-and-white baby carrier strapped to his chest, a big-cheeked baby surveying Oak Street.
Bethany’s heart was now pounding.
Shane Dupree was a father?
That shouldn’t surprise her. He was thirty, just like her. And hadn’t he always wanted a big family?
She ducked farther down in her seat, but she was unable to look away.
Shane was now locking the door.
Her heart beating way too fast, she sat in the car, looking to the left, away from the Dupree house. Maybe he wouldn’t see her.
“Ruff, ruff-ruff! Ruff! Grrr-ruff!”
Bethany glanced over to see the Chihuahua dashing to her car, barking bloody murder.
Oh boy.
“Princess Dupree!” called a familiar voice.
Bethany couldn’t help but smile at that. Not only did Shane Dupree have a Chihuahua, but she was named Princess.
Maybe the wife had named the dog.
“Grrr-woof! Grrr-ruff!” The dog barked and barked.
“So she gets the full name treatment when she’s naughty, huh?” Bethany said, leaning toward the passenger-side window as Shane got closer. Where she got the nerve to actually speak, the light lilt of humor in her voice, was beyond her.
He stopped dead in his tracks.
He stared at her. Hard.
“Bethany?”
Dammit, those blue eyes of his. Those eyes had looked into hers for six months twelve years ago and made her feel hopeful. Six months that had actually changed her entire life, how she felt about herself and people and possibilities.
And then it was all over, and she’d never seen those eyes again.
Until now.
She sucked in a deep breath and got out of the car, staying on the driver’s side. She needed the width of her SUV between them. “Yup, it’s me,” she said over the roof of the vehicle.
He was still staring, then seemed to remember the loose dog and knelt down to reattach the collar, holding the leash tightly. “She slipped her collar,” he added, standing up. “My mother insists on keeping it too loose.”
Please don’t let Anna come outside. She was not ready to deal with her too. “So this is your mother’s dog?”
Talking about the Chihuahua was easier than asking about the baby. Name, age, how long Shane had been married.
Except her gaze slipped to his hand and there was no ring.
Shane nodded. “I’m taking care of Princess until my mom returns from a spa vacation with her sister. Today’s day one of five. I’m already wondering if I’ll survive, and I’m a dog trainer by profession.” He smiled, the smile that used to transfix her, and shook his head.
She barely registered her relief that she wouldn’t have to deal with his mom while in town because she was so focused on the last thing he said. “A dog trainer? You didn’t become a doctor?”
“Nope,” he said. And didn’t elaborate. She wondered what happened. He’d been so focused on his goal of becoming a physician. His dream had been to become a rural doctor, to help those who lived very far from town and the nearest hospital.
For a moment, they just looked at each other. She could hardly believe she was standing just feet away from Shane, talking to him. After all these years.
He came around the side of the SUV, and the full view of him, this man she’d fallen so hard for back then, almost made her knees buckle.
“And this little guy,” he said, glancing down at the baby on his chest, “is Wyatt. Seven months and teething. Wyatt, meet Bethany Robeson. An old friend of Daddy’s.”
“He’s adorable,” she said, smiling at the sweet-faced baby, one tooth in his gummy mouth. He looked a lot like Shane.
“I remember you wanted five kids,” she said. “What number is this cutie?” Again, how she sounded so casual, like she ran into Shane Dupree all the time, was beyond her.
“One and only,” he said. “I was married...it didn’t work out.”
“Sorry,” she said. And she was. She’d never been married herself, but she knew what heartache felt like. And the dissolution of a marriage had to be really rough stuff. Still, she was grateful she wouldn’t be bumping into him and his wife—that would have been too painful.
He looked away for a moment, giving Wyatt’s brown hair a gentle caress, then turned back to her. “I did hear that Elliot left you the house. I hate gossip, and I know you do, too. Or used to. But the subject’s come up.”
Bethany had no doubt the entire town knew. She stared over at the gorgeous white colonial with the red door and black shutters. A classic. The couple of times when she’d gone to Shane’s after they’d become friends, and then more, she’d glance at the Bradley house and wonder how such an awful person—a cheating liar—could live in such a pretty home.
“Before I drove to Spring Forest, I arranged to have the power turned on in my name. I thought I’d just go in and look around, see what needs doing before I can get it on the market,” she said, “but now the thought of going inside makes me feel sick.”
“Yeah, I can imagine.” He cleared his throat. “If you need some backup going in, Princess, Wyatt and I are available.”
“Grrr-ruff!”
Bethany smiled at the tiny light brown dog. “Is that agreement, Princess?”
Princess stared her down. No wagging tail. She gave a little growl and looked like she wanted to bite Bethany’s leg.
Eh, Bethany would win her over. That was her job. Or had been. Either way, she had plenty of experience winning over the scared or the simply untrained—and she’d say Princess Dupree was simply untrained.
“I’ve got five days to get this dog in shape,” Shane said. “And by in shape, I mean well-behaved. All on the down low. My mother says Princess listens to her enough and doesn’t want me ‘being mean’ to her, so she’s never let me work with her. I’ve tried to explain the rudiments of dog training till I’m blue in the face, but...”
Bethany smiled and nodded. “I know all about that. I’ve been working in animal rescue for years.”
“Seems we both got rerouted from our original plans,” he said.
My original plan was to get the hell out of Spring Forest. But then I met you and couldn’t imagine leaving. Until...
Old news. That she didn’t want to think about anymore.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll walk you in.”
She bit her lip and took another glance at the house. She definitely didn’t want to go in there by herself. She hadn’t realized until this moment just how spooked the house would make her.
With her mind churning over memories of how she and her mother had been treated in town, she just wanted to stick a For Sale sign in the yard and get out of here.
But Shane had always had a way of making her feel stronger. More sure of herself.
“Thank you,” she said. “And thank you, Princess,” she added to the Chihuahua. “You might be little, but I can already tell you’re tough. And I need tough surrounding me to walk in there.”
Princess eyed her. No sweet head tilt, but no growl either. Hey, it was a start.
Bethany got out the silver key the lawyer had sent her and headed up the walkway, Shane, Wyatt and Princess right behind her. She could smell Shane’s soap or shampoo, something clean and citrusy. She could feel his presence, all that height, his long, lean body in faded jeans and a brown leather jacket.
Twelve years. And here he was, inches from her.
And she had thought dealing with the house would test her?
Bethany Robeson. Back in town. Twelve years had done little to dim his reaction to her.
He followed her inside the house, catching the scent of a light floral perfume. Shane had always found Bethany beautiful, but she was even more so now. She was tall, five-seven or -eight, with silky long brown hair shot through with honeyed strands, a bit longer now than it had been the last time he’d seen her, and green eyes that had always been impossible to look away from. She was strong and curvy and so damned sexy in jeans and a sweater that he couldn’t drag his gaze off her.
Their brief romance senior year of high school had been intense. A slow start and then fire. Given her reputation, what was whispered about her, he’d felt wrong for fantasizing about Bethany when they’d just been getting to know each other, as if he were adding to it all, but he couldn’t help it. Besides, nothing about the rumors matched the girl he’d known. It had taken Shane two weeks to even get close enough to kiss her. And the look in her eyes when he had...she’d been so beautifully surprised and delighted. How could anyone have taken a single look at her and not seen how sweet and amazing she was?
All these years, he’d never forgotten her, barely stopped thinking about her.
The girl who’d gotten away. Maybe that was it.
More like the girl who’d dumped him with a five-second phone call, leaving him unable to understand what the hell had happened.
Good riddance, his mother had said when he told her that Bethany had left town, just like that. To bad rubbish, she had added under her breath.
But he’d heard it. Loud and clear. Shane, eighteen then, newly graduated from high school, had stopped speaking to his mother after that until she actually apologized for what she’d said, something Anna Dupree rarely did. He’d forgiven her then, but he’d never forgotten it and though he never stopped loving his mother, her meanness, over someone special to him, had done its damage. He’d distanced himself in countless ways. Things were rough in their household in those days, compounded by his father’s troubles, and the way that Shane’s plans, dreams he’d had for years, disintegrated.
All water under the ole bridge.
What mattered now was Wyatt. Everything he did, he did for that little human who he loved so much that sometimes it stole his breath. He had his son, he had his business, Barkyard Boarding—and those were the most important things in the world to him. Sure, he was glad that his business was doing well. In fact, it was one of the most successful dog boarding and training facilities in the county. The money it brought in allowed him to afford the ridiculously large four-bedroom house his now ex-wife had wanted in the fancy Kingdom Creek development. But he didn’t need the house or all that money he’d earned.
Nope, his son and his work. Those were his true priorities. Everything else, he’d learned to take as it came. When his marriage couldn’t hold together, he wished Nina well and was pleased to have a low-drama divorce and an amicable shared custody arrangement. She had a serious boyfriend now, a nice, dependable accountant who played peekaboo with Wyatt every time he dropped off Wyatt at their even bigger house. Shane was happy for them. He didn’t bear grudges and he didn’t dwell on the past.
But now, here was Bethany. A piece of his past walking back into his life and rattling him more than anything had in a long time.
No, thanks. He didn’t need the roller coaster. Not with a baby to single parent half the week and every other weekend.
“Huh,” Bethany said, looking around. “The place is a bit more run-down than I expected. And I can’t see getting a decent price with that outdated kitchen. I’ll have to put some work in.”
A lot of work. The door to the dining room was hanging off one hinge. And Elliot’s cigar habit had yellowed the walls.
After a trip upstairs revealed the bathroom was in even more dire need of updating than the kitchen, Shane could already tell it would be a couple of weeks at least before the house would be ready for a For Sale sign.
Bethany sighed, her gaze on the cracked pink sink, then moving over to the pink bathtub, the grout in need of replacing. “I don’t have money to invest in repairs.” She shook her head and frowned. “I guess I’ll just have to list it as is.”
“Or,” Shane said, “you could talk to Harris Vega. He flips houses. Sometimes, if you don’t have much to spend upfront, he’ll take a percentage of the sale in exchange for the price for materials and labor. You’d be amazed at what he can do on a limited budget too.” He reached into his wallet and searched the many business cards stuffed in the little compartments. “Here.”
She took the card and read it. “Um, thanks. I’ll call him for sure.”
They headed back downstairs. “And I’ll help you,” Shane said before he even thought about it, noting the bits of tape covering holes in the window screen. “I can take care of the small stuff—get that closet door rehung correctly, clear out some of the heavy furniture. I don’t think those massive, beat-up leather his-and-her recliners in the living room will be a draw.”
Bethany stared at the recliners, then looked at him. “You don’t have to do that. Between Wyatt and your business, I’m sure your days are pretty packed.”
“I’ll be coming round to Mom’s place to take care of Princess four times a day. So I’ll be right here anyway.” And I want to help you. Something about her had always brought out the white knight in him that wanted to support and protect her. It was kind of inconvenient that that instinct hadn’t gone away after she’d stepped on his heart...but he couldn’t see that sad, overwhelmed, all-too-familiar look on her face without wanting to make it better. No matter what had happened between them, she’d been very special to him once. “And that way, you won’t have to be alone here, going through the clutter. And man, is there clutter,” he added, glancing around.
“I see you haven’t changed,” she said. “Still really nice.”
“Oh, trust me. I’ve changed in a lot of ways. But I know being here has to be hard for you. In town and in this house. So, I’m helping. And that’s final.”
She smiled. “I really appreciate that. Thank you,” she said slowly, as if forcing herself to accept his offer. He could tell she was uncomfortable. As was he. “I wasn’t planning on staying here, but since I won’t be able to wrap this up quickly, the way I’d hoped, I can’t justify spending money on a motel or anything. I just have to remember that it’s only a house. It’s not going to bite me. It’s not haunted.”
“It’s definitely just a house,” he said.
Except houses were never just houses. They were pieces of history. Filled with memories. He and Bethany had spent a lot of time in the Robesons’ rental apartment above the bar where her mother had worked. The place had been small and shabby and often smelled like the onion rings constantly cooking downstairs, but all he’d cared about was that he was with Bethany. The apartment had become special to both of them.
“I am surprised at how run-down the house is,” she said. “Elliot was a wealthy lawyer.”
“Yeah, he definitely let things slide. Once he was on his own, he kept to himself more, stopped accepting invitations.”
“The guilt got him, I suppose,” she said. “Though it hadn’t seemed to while he was carrying on the affair.”
“Maybe the loneliness, then.”
She wrapped her arms around herself and turned away. “Well,” she said.
He waited for her to add to that, but she didn’t.
Her shoulders sagged, and he wanted to go over and hold her. But he’d smush Wyatt. And possibly his own heart as well, but he was better at protecting his son than at protecting himself. Especially when the urge to comfort Bethany was so strong.
But he wasn’t going anywhere near a romantic reunion. He was done with romance. At least for now, while Wyatt was a baby. While he had so much to juggle. He’d failed at love enough to not dust himself off and get back up again. This time, he was staying down.
Especially because it was clear Bethany would be sticking around for a few weeks to get the house ready for sale.
Long enough for him to fall for her all over again. And he couldn’t let that happen.
It’s you and me, Wyatt, he said silently to his son with a gentle caress on his brown hair.
“Ba!” Wyatt said with his gummy smile.
“Is that so?” Bethany asked, laughing, coming over and bending down a bit to Wyatt’s level.
She reached out and touched his son’s cheek, the sweet gesture going straight to his heart.
Yeah, he was in trouble here.
