How to Train a Husband (Must Love Dogs Book 2) Page 8

  Tanya drove her MINI Cooper up Sunset Drive. Was she in the right place? These homes were valued in the millions. She parked on the street in front of what appeared to be a rustic brick and canary yellow Historic Victorian home, complete with a windowed tower wrapped in a wooden porch.

  Tanya gave her signature knock at the door. A tall hunk opened the door with a massive dog at his side.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for Paxton. I have a letter from a friend.”

  “Come in. I’m Paxton.”

  “He won’t eat me, right?” Tanya said with apprehension.

  “Only if I tell him to,” Paxton smiled.

  His smile turned Tanya’s brain to mush. She wiped her chin, thinking that she might have drooled while staring at this Athenian deity.

  Kai appeared at the top of the stairs. “I thought I recognized that knock.”

  Tanya was dumbstruck. Did they live together. “Um, these are for you. And you. I didn’t realize you were together,” she said nervously, holding up the packages. Her anxiety mounted. “I need to go,” she squeaked, as she opened the door. “Bye.”

  Before they could respond, she had briskly walked to the end of the driveway.

  How was she going to tell Annie? she wondered. It was starting to make sense how put together and handsome Kai was. His glowing eyes, paired with his designer suits, should have given him away. And Paxton, with that handsome face and amazing body. Figures.

  “You know her?” Paxton asked Kai.

  “She’s a good friend of Annie’s.”

  “And now she knows we live together. She thinks we’re a couple,” Paxton spat out, his annoyance turning to anger. “Dude, why do you have to wear black turtlenecks?”

  “Haven’t you ever heard of kissing cousins. Come here, cuz,” Kai said with a laugh, reaching for Paxton.

  Instead of a loving embrace, Kai was grappled onto his back and held in a wrestling pose. It wasn’t necessary to hold Kai’s face down against the ruff carpet, but it somehow made Paxton feel better. After all, Kai had deviated from their plan. He made a move on Annie.

  Paxton rubbed Kai’s face even deeper into the carpet. “Try to get up and kiss me again, and see what happens.”

  “You forget, soldier, that I wrestled in high school,” Kai said, unwinding from his captive state. “The match is on.”

  Chapter 13

  The trees glistened with silvery white icicles. It was magical here in the winter, as long as you were admiring the view from inside a car. The snow-covered fields zipped past Annie’s foggy window.

  “We’ve missed you, Pumpkin,” her dad said, touching her mother’s arm across the center console. Her dad always drove. He wasn’t one of those macho men who didn’t want their wives driving, Mom just never wanted to drive, and he was happy behind the wheel.

  Annie’s mom looked in the back seat at her only daughter. Mom’s hair was just starting to gray. Dad wanted her to gray naturally with him, not be one of those women who were wrinkly and puckered, with jet black hair. Mom’s tears slowly formed. “This separation was hard on us.”

  “I’ve lived in California for a few years now. You act like I’m eighteen and home from my first semester at college,” Annie said, suddenly feeling like a little girl who was trying to appease her parents’ every wish. “I miss you too. Why don’t you sell the farm and move out west.”

  “I could get me a cowboy hat and wrestle me up some steer.”

  “Daddy, you’re more a cowboy than any guy in California. You’re thinking of Texas. Come visit me in Sonoma Valley, and I’ll spoil you rotten.”

  “With lattes and fancy cookies,” he teased.

  “Fancy cookies?”

  “You’ve been making those French style whatchamacallit…macarons.” Her dad scratched the short, salt and pepper, beard on his chin. It reminded Annie how much she loved the feel of his prickly beard after he trimmed it. As a child, she would sit on his lap and scratch it while he told her a bedtime story.

  “Yes, those are to die for. Why had I never tasted a macaron before?”

  To answer her question Annie’s mom leaned over, elongating her neck and back, similar to how Annie’s favorite childhood rooster would just before he crowed, and said, “Nothing beats the Kringles from Racine. I guess when you’ve got it that good, why try something new?”

  “You have a point, Mom. Those circular Danishes are to die for— flaky, sweet and filled with sunshine itself. I’ll take a few of those back to Tanya, and the Johnsons.”

  Annie’s father sat up straight in his seat. “So, are we going to meet this Maybe fella?”

  “I think I need to find another Maybe.”

  He looked back in the rear-view mirror. His frown from her comment increased the depths of the parentheses-wrinkles around his lips. Her parents were getting older. It was a difficult transformation to watch. How much longer could her father physically work the organic dairy farm? It was no more than a boutique, really, compared to the commercial dairy farms in the area. Perhaps during this trip, she could finally convince them to sell the farm, and move somewhere a little warmer.

  “Organic dairy products, and grass-fed beef, are all the rage in my area. You could transport your Holsteins and Jerseys,” Annie said enthusiastically. “And start over.”

  Dad nodded, turning his eyes to her mom.

  “What am I missing here?” Annie questioned.

  Mom cocked her head around back again and said, “Your father has brought on a DGA apprentice, with the expectation that he’ll buy the farm when he’s ready.”

  “What’s a DGA Apprentice?”

  Dad responded, “Dairy Grazing Apprenticeship. It’s meant to aid the dairy farmer with an apprentice, and teach the ropes to the rookie.”

  “I’m speechless. Meaning, the speech I had intended to give is now mute.”

  “How would you like to spend your holidays in Florida, or North Carolina on the beach?” her mom said with excitement.

  “Not California?” Annie’s bottom lip extended into a pout.

  “There’s my little girl,” her father smiled. “Living expenses are through the roof there. Southeast coast is more reasonable, but that’s not an absolute. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

  Annie peered out her window at the frozen field where she and the neighbor boy once lit a bonfire that was contained only after three firetrucks, and a good spanking. The neighbor’s red barn came into view, where she first learned to kiss that reckless boy. The loss of his love still constricted her heart. She sighed. This town would never hurt her again.

  Annie’s laptop sat at the end of her bed. Her screensaver was a cute photo of her and Mr. Famous, snuggling amongst the reeds. It was taken just inland from the beach on a moist winter’s day in California, her happy place. Tanya was right, she wouldn’t last a month here. The sun had not emerged through the thin gray clouds in days. The diffuser that she had brought with her could not tackle the fresh dairy air, as her father enjoyed calling it. And here she sat, staring at her computer in her PJs.

  “Annie,” her mom called from the kitchen, “Would you rather head out and help your father graze the cows, or come with me to the store to pick up supplies for Thanksgiving dinner?”

  “I’m writing.”

  “I’m leaving in ten minutes. I expect you to be in the truck, or out on the pasture in that time, understood?”

  “Fine.”

  “You need fresh air to get those creative juices pumping.”

  “I’m coming.” She was ten again. Why is it, that she always regressed when she came home? “Mr. Famous, enjoy your nap,” she said, covering him in a blanket. Ever since their arrival, he was in a state of constant shivering.

  Annie slipped on three layers, followed by the puffy orange coat she had worn in high school, and wrapped her hair into a messy bun on top of her head. She looked like a pumpkin, with it’s brown stem releasing yellow twisty tendrils. “Oh, you are stunning
,” she said sarcastically, reviewing herself in the entryway mirror. Her appearance matched her mood, dour and cross.

  The chaffing wind bit at Annie’s neck as they entered the country market. As much as she wanted to hate this place, she loved the selection of local cheeses, which seemed to stretch a mile.

  “Will you read me the list again, to see if we missed anything?” her mother petitioned.

  “Green beans, cream of mushroom soup, sausage, mushrooms, milk.” Annie raised her eyes and smiled.

  “Milk?” her mother questioned. “I wrote milk?”

  “Never gets old,” Annie laughed.

  “I’d recognize that beautiful laugh from a mile away,” his voice almost sang.

  Annie’s heart dropped. She had not heard that voice in three years, and it hadn’t been sweet scented, like today.

  “Trent?”

  “You look amazing!”

  “If you mean, like a pregnant pumpkin ready to be carved, then thanks,” she said, lifting her arms in the air.

  “You’re pregnant?” he exclaimed to the entire market.

  “No, no, no,” she said, shaking her head violently. “I’m not even married. Do I look pregnant?” she said, patting her stomach.

  “No, you just sai—”

  “Right, I could hide an elephant under this thing.”

  “Still that great sense of humor. Hey, how is your journalism going?”

  “Wonderful. And California is amazing. How’s Italy?”

  “Austria. I was in Italy for two years improving my range, now the Austrian Opera has taken me as their lead baritone. It’s really exciting,” he said, leaning against the checkout counter. “You should come see a show.” His angular build was a-typical for a dairy farmer, let alone an opera singer. “Actually, I’m doing a little private gig at the town hall tonight. You should come.”

  Annie opened her mouth, but the words didn’t come. The last time she had seen Trent, she was suffering from jet lag and a serious bout of jealousy. The words they exchanged were less than cordial. Why did she get so tongue tied when she was flustered?

  Her mother stepped between them. “How wonderful. Good luck tonight. Considering tomorrow is Thanksgiving, I need Annie’s help in the kitchen. Best of luck to you, Trent,” she said, pulling Annie by the arm.

  “Of all the presumptuous, ill-mannered, ostentatious,” her mother muttered through clenched teeth.

  “Are you okay, Mom?” Annie said, loading the groceries onto the grocer’s conveyor belt.

  “I’m sorry, Honey. It’s not easy to forgive those who hurt your children.” She said kissed Annie on the forehead. “I won’t dwell on it, if you don’t. I have enough to think about with your brothers coming home from college tonight. They need their nourishing pabulum to assist in their intellectual development. You know the volume your brothers consume.”

  “No wonder I’m a writer. I had nothing but cows and pastures to stare at as a child, books to keep me company, and a mother that uses words like pabulum,” she said, scrunching her face.

  “So, you have me to thank. Remember that when you’re accepting your Pulitzer.”

  Annie laughed. “Romance writers don’t get Pulitzers, Mom.”

  “Don’t cut yourself short. You’re an amazing author, no matter what you write. You have always made me proud.”

  “Thanks,” Annie said, warmed by her mother’s words.

  Chapter 14

  Annie returned to the guest room, her mother’s floral sewing room with a rose patterned bedspread, daffodil curtains and tulip wallpaper.

  Did her mother get melancholy in the winter and need to envision spring all day?

  The redeeming grace was the bay window Mr. Famous claimed for his own. The sun’s rays were finally needling through the thinning clouds, providing a heated bed for one of Mr. Famous’ many daytime siestas.

  The laptop was still positioned where she had left it, at the end of the metal day bed. She touched the screen. The endearing photo of Mr. Famous cuddled in her arms as a pup brought memories of sea foam, and bonfires on the beach. That was an author-worthy day with Kenneth. She wrote ten pages that night. Why did he turn out to be such a dog? Not that she didn’t make her own huge mistakes.

  Dog training— that was a mistake.

  “How could I be so stupid? I lost both of them,” she said, rubbing her face with the palms of her hands. “They were both really great guys.”

  “Pumpkin, I need your help!” her dad yelled from the storm room.

  Annie walked down the hall to meet him. “What do you need?”

  He stood in the breezeway, removing his gloves. He never entered the house from any other door. The storm room was fully equipped with a sink, bench and hooks.

  “Can you help me move the herd? My apprentice went home to help his wife prep for Thanksgiving.”

  “I like your apprentice already. And I haven’t even met him yet.”

  He began tapping his foot. “You’re coming?”

  “Yes. But answer me this. Did you buy me that orange coat in high school because it would make me look like my nickname?”

  “What?” he asked, confused.

  “Nothing. I’ll be out in a minute. Hey, can I ride Stardust to herd the cows?”

  “Sure. She’ll be excited to see you.”

  “Mind, you saddle her this time. You may hit some ice.”

  Annie smiled. Her father knew her well.

  Annie entered the barn to a ruckus. Every animal seemed keenly aware of her presence, especially Stardust.

  “Hey there. How’s my girl?” Annie said, approaching Stardust from the side, being careful not to spook her. “What do ya say? Wanna stretch?”

  Stardust responded to Annie’s touch by shaking her head and snorting.

  With Stardust now bridled and saddled, Annie kicked off the wooden stool and mounted her in one fluid jump. Annie leaned over, hugging her neck and said, “We need to find a nice farm to board you in Sonoma, before Daddy sells this place. Now, I need you to obey my lead. No falls or sprains. We need to steer clear of the ice.” Annie took the reins and set off toward the herd.

  “Daddy!” Annie yelled through the sleet, now raining down on them. She had finally found her dad, attempting to direct the herd.

  “They don’t want to leave this pasture. Can you do your fancy work?”

  “You bet.” She was excited to utilize her old skills.

  Stardust, almost intuitively, positioned herself behind the herd, and responded to Annie’s slightest tug on her reigns. As the herd slowly moved in the correct direction, Annie loosened the slack on the reigns. The sleet transformed into large, dusty snowflakes. Sleet, Annie could do without, but this beautiful ice art from heaven, never. Annie stopped to admire the mammoth flakes. She held her mouth open with her tongue outstretched to see how many she could collect.

  “Annie, pay attention,” her father yelled. “They’re headed for the lake!”

  The cows had gotten away from her. Annie bit down on her lip in frustration as she galloped toward the herd.

  “Too fast, Annie!” her father shouted.

  She attempted to slow Stardust, but it was too late. The cows divided at her approach, just as Stardust hit a patch of icy water on the edge of the lake. It was much closer than Annie had anticipated, having been covered by fresh sleet and snow.

  “Stardust!” Annie yelled, grasping for the horn on the saddle. She was thrown. The water engulfed her body like a thousand cold, sharp needles penetrating deep into her bones. The blow to her abdomen, coupled with the frigid water, took her wind. She felt her father’s strong grip pulling her from the shallow edge. As she looked up into her father’s eyes, her vision quickly tunneled, until only darkness remained.

  Annie woke to muffled voices. Her head was spinning, as if she had just walked off a roller coaster. After a few minutes, the sounds rang clearer. It was her mother yelling on the phone for an ambulance. Annie shook her head, anything but that stale hospit
al.

  “Mom, I’m fine. Don’t take me to the hospital.” At least Annie hoped she was fine. She was cold, her legs were shaking uncontrollably, and her breath was rapid. She sat up from the sunken leather couch. She blinked a few times before her vision grew steady.

  “Here’s another warm blanket, straight from the dryer,” her mother said, wrapping her in one of their many fleece throws.

  Annie looked down at the mound of blankets on her lap. “How many of these do I have piled on top of me?”

  “I lost count,” her mother admitted. “Your father went crazy loading them on you, while I was calling 911. Let me see your pupils,” she said, shining a bright light into Annie’s eyes. “I don’t think you hit your head, or sustained a concussion.”

  “I’m seeing stars. Is that normal?”

  “No. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

  “Is it normal if you were just shining a bright light into my eyes?” Annie smiled.

  Her mother sighed. “Thank goodness you’re lucid. Normal for my mischievous little girl, yes.”

  “Stardust?” Annie questioned, remembering her horse.

  Her father shook his head.

  Annie felt nauseated. “We need to pull her out. Maybe she can survive for a few minutes underwater.”

  He sat beside her. “I spoke to the vet. There was nothing we could’ve done. I’ve called a few guys. They’ll help me pull her out in the morning.” Tears formed in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Pumpkin,”

  Annie covered her face with her hands. If this weren’t rock bottom, then what was? Annie couldn’t imagine being on this farm without Stardust. Her heart constricted with the thought that she could have prevented this.

  “I’m a complete failure. I killed my horse. I can’t keep a boyfriend. I never made it as a journalist.”

  “Look me in the eyes, Annie,” her father said, taking her hand. “I should’ve warned you how high the lake had gotten this year.”