Compared to the grandness of everything she’d seen in the house, Hope liked the closed-in feel of the space. She stroked a velvety petal and inhaled the sweet and spicy scents of white gardenia and jasmine. She had her nose buried in the center of a bright red blossom, eyes closed, when the bush vibrated and she heard a scraping noise at its base. She stumbled back, causing both motion and sound to be repeated.
Crouching down, she cautiously pushed aside a large branch to have a look...and started to laugh. Unmindful of the damp grass, she fell to her knees. Still laughing, she reached under the base of the bush and hauled out a squirming, wiggling, mud-covered puppy. “What are you doing here?” she inquired of the little dog.
The puppy mewed and continued to wriggle. Hope leaned in to nuzzle him and pulled back quickly. “Wow! What they say about sweet puppy breath doesn’t apply to you, does it? You stink! I bet that’s more than just mud covering you.”
In response, he slathered Hope’s face with his tongue, landing one grimy paw on her white shirt and another on her cheek. “Thanks, pal,” Hope exclaimed. She swiped her upper arm across her face, smearing the mud.
“I have our refreshments,” Priscilla announced as she emerged from the house carrying a tray laden with a pitcher, glasses and a plate of sliced lemons. She almost dropped the tray when she noticed Hope kneeling on the grass. Depositing it on the patio table with a clatter, she rushed over. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Let me take him.” She made a grab for the puppy, but Hope drew him back, streaking more dirt on her shirt and along her arms.
“Look at you! You’re covered in muck,” Priscilla said. “Morris was supposed to have taken that little dog to the pound a week ago.”
Hope’s eyes rounded, and she tightened her hold on the puppy. “To the pound?”
“Well, we didn’t want to. Morris and I thought it would be nice to have a dog around, but your father...”
“He didn’t want a dog,” Hope concluded.
Priscilla nodded.
“Where did he come from?”
The puppy in question enthusiastically licked the side of Hope’s neck.
“We have no idea. He just appeared a couple of weeks ago.”
Sinking back on her heels, Hope placed the puppy on the ground, where he executed a somersault in pursuit of his tail, before clambering onto her lap again. Hope nudged him, and he rolled over on his back, where he remained with an expectant look on his face. When Hope obliged with a tummy rub, his gleeful squeals stole her heart. “So, he doesn’t belong to anyone?” she asked.
“Not that we could determine.” Priscilla squatted down, too, and patted the puppy on the top of his upside-down head.
Hope looked at her thoughtfully. “My father asked me last night if there was anything he could do to make me feel more comfortable here.” She continued to rub the little dog’s belly, while he nipped at her fingers with his needle-sharp teeth. “I’ve always wanted a dog, but I couldn’t have one in Canyon Creek because Mom was allergic. What if I told my father I wanted to keep the pup?”
Priscilla smiled. “There’s always a chance. Why don’t we take the little guy into the mudroom and get him cleaned up first? Make him more presentable.”
It took several cycles of lathering and rinsing until the bathwater finally ran clear. The pup was still mostly black, but the brown had washed away with the sudsy water to reveal a bright white belly and white boots on three of his paws.
“How big do you think he’ll get when he’s full grown?” Hope asked as she toweled him off.
Priscilla pursed her lips. “I’m no expert on dogs, but the shape of his face makes me think he’s got some Irish wolfhound in him, but the rest of him looks like Labrador. If he’s mostly Lab, he won’t grow too large. Probably about sixty pounds when he’s full grown.”
“That’s not so big. My father wouldn’t object to me keeping him, if I promise to take care of him and keep him out of his way, would he?”
Before Priscilla could answer, the outside door swung open and Morris strode in, the screen door slamming behind him. He took one look at the two women, the little dog between them, and started to back out.
“Not so fast, Morris!” Priscilla called.
He stopped in his tracks, but kept his hand on the door handle.
The puppy—having aptly demonstrated his displeasure with the entire bathing process—must have seen his opportunity to escape. He squirmed out of Hope’s grasp and charged straight for the doorway, crashing headfirst into the screen. Fortunately, he bounced off it, landing ingloriously on his backside.
Hope rushed forward to make sure he was unharmed, but Morris was quicker. He held the puppy up and stared directly into his eyes. “Way to go, Einstein. I thought we’d learned about screen doors.”
Hope grinned as Morris passed him to her. She studied the pup. “Why don’t we call him Einstein?”
“I know him a little better than you do,” Morris said, “and I can assure you, he’s no genius.”
“That’s the point! He’s exactly the opposite, which is why the name is perfect for him. Hey, Einstein,” Hope said, testing it. When the puppy’s ears perked up in apparent recognition, she dropped a kiss on his now-sweet-smelling, fuzzy snout.
“Einstein it is,” Priscilla concurred. She shifted her gaze to Morris. “Where were we?”
Morris started to back out of the room again.
Priscilla laid a hand on his arm. “Whoa, my friend. Weren’t you supposed to have taken this little guy to the pound?”
“Well...yes,” he replied, looking everywhere except into her eyes.
“And yet here he is,” she said, stating the obvious. Annoyance flashed in her normally calm blue eyes. “He could’ve starved. Or worse, he could’ve wandered out into the road and been hit by a car.”
“No, not really.”
“And why would that be?”
Morris rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, because I was feeding him, and I set up a space in the garage for him. I’m not sure how he managed to get out, since it’s fenced.”
“You always did have a soft heart under that tough exterior, Morris, to go with your soft head!”
Hope grinned widely, watching the interplay between her father’s two employees as she squatted down to finish towel-drying Einstein.
The pup had other ideas. With a series of rapid-fire yips, he barreled as fast as his oversize paws could carry him toward the screen door again. This time he landed spread-eagled on his belly.
Laughing, Hope gathered him back in her arms.
When she approached her father that evening about Einstein, he relented. She could have him, with the understanding that she’d keep “the pesky dog” out of his way.
That wasn’t a problem, as Hope tried to avoid her father as much as possible. From that day onward, she and Einstein were inseparable.
* * *
THREE WEEKS AFTER Hope’s arrival at Glencastle, the first call came. Hope was in her room, going through the frustrating exercise of teaching Einstein basic commands, when Priscilla appeared in her doorway. “You have a call, Hope.”
“I do?”
“He says he knows you from Canyon Creek. His name is Luke.”
“Luke?” Hope glanced at the telephone on her desk. “How did he get this number?”
“I