1
Bartlett
I fell in love once, and it was with a girl named Plum. When I met her for the first time, it was the head-over-heels, dumbstruck, can’t think of what to say kind of smitten.
She was 6 pounds, 4 ounces, surrounded by every living member of the Rough family, and there wasn’t a dry eye in that hospital room.
Now, at five years old, my niece Plum is the center of my family. As she bounds into my hardware store, Hammer Home, the bells on the front door ring and a smile spreads across my face. I may try to play the part of a grumpy mountain man, but when that sweet pea comes to my register, looking for a lollipop, I melt.
“Uncle Bart, can I have a cherry one, pretty please?” she asks, her dark brown hair in pigtails to her waist, freckles across the bridge of her nose. She isn’t wearing her winter coat and it’s thirty degrees out.
“Who’s supposed to be watching you right now?” I ask, thinking they’re doing a piss-poor job at it as I hand her the requested sucker from the jar next to my register.
“Auntie Lemon, but she’s on the phone with a client and so I snuck out.”
“She’s gonna be sour when she finds you missing, you know that, right?” I ask. My younger sister Lemon works above me in the main offices of our family’s construction company, Rough House.
“Plum?” Lemon yanks open the front doors and calls for our niece, holding a child-size winter coat in hand. “Plum, I swear if you’ve–”
“She’s right here,” I say as Lemon walks toward us, hands on her hips. She two years younger than me, but way more tightly wound. “Oops,” I whisper to Plum. “You’re busted.”
“If you catch a cold before Grandma’s Sunday dinner, I’ll be the one who’s blamed. You need to wear a coat. Not to mention you can’t run out on me! It’s dangerous to leave without an adult.”
Even Plum seems to know this is a bit of a stretch. The three of us turn to look out the big shop window, taking in the quiet view. Hammer Home is nestled on Cozy Court, and there is virtually no crime in this town. There’s a reason locals stay forever.
But as we look out the window at the picturesque street with the winter flower boxes filled, the bakery across the street with customers milling about, and families out doing weekend errands, I notice one thing out of place.
“Do you know whose dog that is?” I ask as a mangy mutt walks into a metal trash can, then a moment later, into a lamp post.
“Never seen it before,” Lemon says, frowning.
I’ve already moved to the front door and opened it, concerned. The poor dog is clearly confused. As I cross the street, I wave to Nancy, who owns Home for Christmas, the holiday decor shop across the street. “Have you seen this dog’s owner?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “No, but I came out here because I was worried it would wander into the road.”
I kneel down, Plum and Lemon at my side, and take a closer look at the pup. It is a small white dog with a black patch over its left eye. But both eyes are clouded over. “I think this mutt is blind,” I say as he begins licking the back of my hand. “Sure is friendly though.”
“And cute!” Plum says.
The dog is wearing a leather collar and it has a bronze tag attached. “Hijinx,” I read aloud. “Blind and Beloved.”
“Does it list a phone number?” Lemon asks.
“Yep.” I scoop up the pup and carry him across the street to the hardware store.
On a mission, Lemon and Plum find a bag of dog food, treats, and bowls for Hijinx as I call the number on his collar. “No answer and it says the voicemail box is full,” I say. “Well, that’s a bummer.”
“The owner must be close by,” Lemon says. “Call Graham at the police station and tell him you found a dog in case anyone calls looking for one.”
“Shouldn’t you be the one calling the station? Derek works there too,” I joke, remembering how the local officer had a crush on my sister in high school. Our brother Graham is a cop, and I can call him directly, but I can’t help giving my sister a hard time any chance I get.
“You want to go there?” Lemon’s eyes light up. She loves nothing more than to bother me about my lack of a love life. “I heard Claudine and Tabitha over at the hair salon gossiping about you last week. Claudine’s daughter is coming to town, and she wants to set you up.”
“Oh god,” I groan. Plum giggles though, and I pick that sweetheart up, twirling her around. “Why do I need a girl when I got one right here?”
Plum laughs. “You need to get married, Uncle Bart! And have babies so I can have cousins! I need kids to play with already!”
“She has a point,” Lemon says with a smirk.
I roll my eyes. “Then get on it, Miss Lemon.”
She laughs tight and high. “Right, because it’s so easy to date when I have five brothers who have opinions on every single man in this town.” She pulls out her phone, though, and types out a message. “I let Derek know you found a stray dog. I may not be interested in the man, but I am a decent human.” She smirks, tucking her phone back in her pocket.
I run a hand over my jaw. Truth is, there isn’t a guy who is good enough for my little sister. She may be a little high-strung, but she’s smart as a whip and has a big heart – hell, it’s her day off and she’s babysitting our brother Reuben’s daughter.
“Anyways… Plum, you ready to go?” Lemon turns to me. “We’ll see you later tonight, right?”
“Mom wouldn’t let me miss it,” I joke as a couple enters the store with a shopping list in hand.
The girls leave and I help my customers, Hijinx snuggled on a blanket under my register. I keep looking out the window, distracted, wondering where the owner is. When I turn off the lights and flip my Open sign to Closed, I decide to take a leash off a display and clip it to Hijinx’s collar. With a paper bag filled with doggy essentials, I turn my back to the street and lock up for the night.
It’s only then I hear a woman shouting.
I turn, taking in the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. Blonde hair whipping in the wind, dark eyes fixed on me. A figure that has my whole body aching for a future I never even considered before this very moment. Her. Me. Together.
But she isn’t staring at me the way I’m staring at her.
She’s glaring, really, and the shouting? Well, it’s directed at me.
Accusing me of something. I try to focus on her words, but it’s hard because her pink lips have me distracted as hell.
“Hey. You!” she shouts again, this time a few feet in front of me. “Are you trying to steal my dog?”
2
Abby
He’s a big guy. Huge compared to me. Six foot three, broad shoulders, tough – and I’m nothing. Five-three with shoes. And I feel like this man could pick me up and throw me over his shoulder and, well, it sorta terrifies me. Reminds me of Ricky, if I’m being completely honest.
And I don’t want to think about Ricky. Not now. Not ever again. I just want Hijinx back.