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I stood, stretching and grumbling, and took myself upstairs to take a shower. By the time the clock had reached a reasonable hour, I was dressed and feeling better. Except that it was Sunday and I had no idea what to do with myself. I ran through the usual chores—checking my phone, scanning for news, listening to voicemail (Dad and Wind.) And then I needed to make some decisions about what to do with myself. Just as I was considering my limited options, there was a knock at the door.
“Good, you’re here,” Cam said when I pulled the door open. He wore dark jeans and a tight blue T-shirt, along with an expression I hadn’t seen before—he looked apprehensive.
“Where else would I be on a Sunday morning?” It was still early, after all.
He appeared not to have thought of this until now, and suddenly looked abashed at being reminded that early morning visits on a Sunday weren’t necessarily neighborly. A big hand curled around the back of his neck and he stepped back, away from the open door. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I said, maybe too quickly. “I’m up. I’ve been up for a while.”
“Can you lend me a hand with something?” Cam’s face was anxious and his tone was much more tense than I’d heard it.
“What’s going on?”
“Better if I show you.” He turned and moved toward the steps, pausing for me to join him.
I pulled the door shut and followed, stepping to his side as he crossed the small space between our houses. “You’re making me nervous,” I told him.
“Sorry,” he said, but he didn’t explain why he looked worried, or what he could possibly need help with.
I followed Cam up the steps to his house and through the front door. His furniture was pushed around, and I was about to ask if he needed help rearranging the room or something when I heard the whine from the corner. My eyes tracked the sound to a nest of towels and blankets where an Australian Shepherd lay on her side with at least five pups nursing next to her and a wicked gash crusted with blood and dirt on her leg.
“Oh my goodness.” I moved toward the dog, dropping to my knees and putting my hand out to her.
“I wouldn’t—“ Cam said, but he stopped talking abruptly as my hand smoothed the fur on the dog’s head.
“Hello there,” I crooned in a soft voice, the one I reserved for tiny babies and cute furry things. “What a lucky mama you are, look at these adorable puppies.” I sat down next to her and let my hand run from her head to her back a few times, noticing that her fur was matted and clumped with pitch and pine needles as I checked for other injuries. “You need a bath and a comb,” I said, “And we need to get this wound clean.” The dog responded with a low whine. As I petted her, my eyes found Cam, who was standing in the center of the room, one hand on his hip and the other gripping the back of his neck, staring at me.
“She hasn’t let me touch her,” he said, and his voice held an edge of appreciation I hadn’t heard before.
“I’m like the dog whisperer,” I said. “I’ve always been good with animals. So this is the animal you were feeding? Across the hill?”
“Looks like it. She must’ve followed my scent. Found her on the porch when I got home last night, and she had the puppies early this morning. She’s got that nasty gash though. I called the vet, but haven’t heard anything.”
“She okay, you think?”
He shrugged. “I’m not really qualified to say. You know a lot about dogs?”
I laughed, quietly, not wanting to disturb the dogs. “Nope.”
“Can you stay with them while I go see if Annie Gish is home?”
“Annie?” The name was familiar. “I think I used to play with Annie Gish…”
Cam made a face, one side of his mouth lifting as his eyebrows came down. “Maybe, but…” his mind was clearly on helping the dogs, not on playmates I might’ve had when I was a kid. “She’s a vet. And she never remembers to take her phone home. I already tried her a few times. She must’ve left it at the office again.”
That sounded like the Annie I remembered. Even at seven, she’d been a little flighty, but smart as a whip. “Land line?” I suggested.
Cam shook his head.
“So, basically, you want me to dog sit.”
Another shrug. “If you’re busy…”
“I’m not busy. But you might owe me another game of cards for this.” I might have been thinking a little bit that maybe if we played cards he might kiss me again, but I didn’t want him to know that.
He narrowed his eyes at me, but a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Cards, huh?”
“Please?” I almost told him how much I hoped maybe he’d kiss me again some time.
