Home > Driftwood Bay (Hope Harbor #5)(8)

Driftwood Bay (Hope Harbor #5)(8)
Author: Irene Hannon

Or could it be his attractive neighbor again?

His pulse ticked up.

A visit from her would brighten up this dreary Friday—as long as she wasn’t mad about some other transgression.

He detoured to the hall and hurried toward the door. Through the window he spied a UPS truck pulling away from the curb.

Shoot.

Not a visit from his neighbor after all.

He twisted the knob—but as he pulled the door open, a crash sounded from the kitchen. Like a chair had tipped over.

“Molly?” He swung around—and a small, wriggly body zipped past his legs.

Blast.

“Toby! Get back here!”

The dog paid him no heed.

After casting one last look at the beagle barreling toward the hedge between his property and Jeannette’s, he raced to the kitchen.

A chair had tipped over—but Molly appeared to be fine.

He grabbed the dog’s leash from the hook by the back door, along with a handful of doggie treats. Hesitated.

Could he leave a five-year-old alone while he chased down the dog?

No.

Swooping Molly up with one arm, he dashed toward the front door as she shrieked and gripped his T-shirt with both fists.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Hold on tight. We’re going to follow Toby.”

He tore out the door, yanked it closed behind him, and sprinted down the driveway.

If he got to the dog fast enough, maybe he could prevent him from creating any more carnage in his neighbor’s garden.

If not?

Jeannette Mason was going to be back on his doorstep.

And she wasn’t going to be smiling.

 

 

4

The dog had returned.

As Jeannette watched through the window of the tearoom, Toby charged around the side of the structure and hurtled toward the nearest lavender bed.

So much for Logan West’s promise to keep him on a leash.

Grimacing at the inadvertent pun, she yanked a broom from the closet.

This was not funny.

She might feel a bit sorry for her new neighbor with the sad-looking little girl and rambunctious dog, but she was going to have to pay him another visit and lay down the law.

After all, her business was at stake, and—

“Toby! Get back here!”

Hand on the knob, she paused as Logan West careened into the garden from the direction of her driveway, Molly perched in one arm, a leash clutched in his free hand.

The dog’s floppy ears perked up, and he slid to a stop, dancing in place as Logan dashed toward him.

But once the doctor drew near, the pup took off through the lavender bed, weaving among the plants.

Through the open window, Jeannette had no difficulty hearing the conversation.

“Stay here, Molly. I’m going to catch Toby.” He set the girl down, keeping tabs on the dog that was watching him from the other side of the rectangular plot.

He started around the bed, pulling what appeared to be a doggie treat from his pocket. “Come on, Toby.” He held it out. “See what I have?”

For a moment, it appeared the beagle was willing to be bribed.

Nope.

At the last minute, he bounded to the other side again with a playful yip.

Jeannette set the broom down to watch the antics.

The same scenario replayed twice, with the good doctor getting nowhere.

However . . . the man was trying. Hard. Based on the glint of desperation in his eyes, he’d clearly gotten her keep-your-dog-under-control message.

But she doubted he was going to capture the recalcitrant beagle without some help.

Since the little girl wasn’t a candidate for that job, it seemed she was elected.

Jeannette opened the door, and three sets of eyes swiveled to her as she stepped outside.

Logan sent her an apologetic look. “I’m really sorry about this. I opened the door for a delivery, and he darted out. I’ll have this under control in a minute.”

“It may be easier to round him up if we tag team this.”

His features flattened—as if he was shocked by her offer. “Uh . . . okay.” He glanced around the garden. “Why don’t we approach him from the same direction, back him into that corner?” He motioned toward the terrace behind her adjacent L-shaped house. “Eventually he’ll try to make a break for it, but if we confine him enough, one of us should be able to grab him when he tries to get past.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

She followed his lead, and with a fair amount of maneuvering, they managed to get Toby where they wanted him.

But the beagle was one smart pup.

Once he realized he was being set up, he made his break toward the weakest link in the two-person barricade.

Her.

She lunged for him as he drew close, seized the twenty-plus-pound mass of zooming fur, and promptly lost her balance.

Next thing she knew, she was sitting on her rump, the wriggling dog in her lap.

An instant later, her neighbor was beside her. He clipped the leash on Toby’s collar and lifted him off, then hunkered down beside her, faint parallel lines etched on his forehead. “Are you all right?”

“Fine.”

As she pushed herself to her feet, he took her arm in a firm grip and helped her up.

“Sorry again for all the trouble.” He wound the leash around his hand as Toby began pulling. “I’m having an electric fence installed in the backyard next week, so there’ll be no more escaping from that direction. And in the future, I won’t answer the front door until Toby’s secured in the kitchen.”

The dog began to howl—almost as if he’d understood every word and knew his days of breaking free were about to come to an end.

“Does he do that often?” She upped her volume as she brushed off her jeans.

“Yeah.” Logan massaged his forehead, his expression pained. “I’m going to have to find a training class for him somewhere or I’ll end up with permanent hearing loss. There isn’t by any chance a place like that in town, is there?”

“Not that I know of. I expect there’s one in Coos Bay—but that’s a bit of a hike.”

“It would be worth it to get the noise under control. Besides, I’ll be taking Molly to preschool there in another ten days, anyway.”

He’d be taking her.

Where was the girl’s mother?

She bit back the inappropriate question.

“For now, you could try giving him one of those treats.” She motioned toward his pocket. “He can’t bark or howl if he’s eating.”

“True.” He dug one out and fed it to the dog.

Silence descended while Toby chomped.

“I take it you haven’t had him long?”

“No. A last-minute addition to the family before we left San Francisco. I hoped a dog would help.”

“With what?” That question came out too fast to throttle—but if he thought she was being nosy, he gave no indication of it.

Logan checked on the girl, who was watching the proceedings from a distance, and dropped his voice. “Molly’s been staying with her grandmother for the past two years, but after Mom died suddenly last December, she came to live with me. It hasn’t been the smoothest transition. I’ve never—” The barking resumed with a vengeance, and he cringed. “The story of my life.”

“He is a loud one.” Jeannette shot the dog a disgruntled look. Couldn’t he have stayed quiet another sixty seconds while her neighbor finished his story—and satisfied her curiosity?

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