Page 37 of Puppy Kisses

“Don’t forget to mention that you mean Dawn the cow,” a voice called from the front porch. “Otherwise, Phoebe’s going to think you’re being rude.”

Adam felt a disproportionate amount of relief to hear the musical laugh in Dawn’s voice. It wasn’t that heactuallyfeared Bea would do away with another human being, but there was no denying she had a tendency to rub people the wrong way. And byrub the wrong way, he meant she usually grated them down until they were nothing but a blubbering mess of their former selves.

Call him sentimental, but he didn’t care to see that happen to the woman he was sleeping with.

“You’re just in time,” Dawn added as a screen door creaked in the distance. “Bea and I were about to have some lemonade and pie out on the back porch. Fair warning—her lemonade is like ninety percent vodka. Sip slowly.”

Phoebe laughed and said that nothing sounded better, but Adam wasn’t so easily fooled. He came up the steps carefully. “You and Bea are having alfresco cocktails?”

“And pie,” Dawn pointed out. “I bought it from the diner near my house. But don’t worry—I told her that you made it, since you did promise her and all. It seems that in addition to vodka, Bea likes a man who delivers.”

“I was going to make one. I haven’t had a chance yet, that’s all.”

“Yes, well.” Dawn’s hand touched his arm to indicate that the door was open and he had a clear path inside. “Maybe if you didn’t spend so much time in the shower, you’d have more time for things like baking.”

“What’s that you’re saying?” Bea demanded as Adam walked through the door. He’d only been inside Bea’s house a few times before—usually to beg her to consider his continually rising offer for her land—but it always had a damp, musty smell, like a sock forgotten in the bottom of the washing machine for too long.

The sock scent was still there today, but in much less concentrated amounts. A cross breeze hinted at several open windows, at least one of which was near the back garden, if the loamy tang of upturned soil was any indication.

“It’s about damn time you got here,” Bea added without waiting to hear their answer. Which was just as well, since there was no telling if Dawn might follow up on that shower comment. In the right mood, she had every likelihood of making life uncomfortable for him.

Hell, who was he kidding? Shealwaysmade life uncomfortable for him. Morally, emotionally, physically…

“Do you still own that backhoe?” Bea asked.

Adam halted. “Uh, backhoe?”

“The patio door’s about four feet to your right and ten feet back.” Dawn brushed past him lightly, allowing her hip to touch his. Her voice lowered to a near-whisper as she added, “You don’t have a backhoe. You don’t know where to rent one, either. In fact, you read an article about how backhoes have been contributing to higher rates of certain kinds of cancer.”

Phoebe must have overheard that last part, because she giggled and answered for him. “Sorry, Mrs. Benson, but we got rid of that old thing years ago.”

“What’d you do that for?” Bea demanded. “I need one.”

Phoebe and her ever-fertile imagination had a response for that, too. “Unfortunately, it went rogue and ran over Zeke’s foot. He’s lucky to still have it. You should have seen how many stitches he got.”

Adam was almost certain Bea wouldn’t buy such a ridiculous story as that, but she gave a harrumph and moved in the direction of the back porch. “It’s just like a Dearborn to go wasting a valuable piece of machinery because it’s got a minor hitch. You people think nothing of money, do you? There’s always more where that came from.”

There was no response that would allow Adam to maintain both his dignity and the respect necessary to keep him on Bea’s good side, so he didn’t say anything. He also regretted the impulse that had allowed him to send Dawn here to help Bea with the garden repairs. No one deserved to be subjected to this woman’s company for hours on end. She took bad manners to a whole new level.

“Well, you know your way around a cherry pie, at any rate,” Bea said as Adam found a seat at the table and settled into it. He was almost immediately greeted by twin canine noses, one in each palm. Uncle’s felt as warm and friendly as it always did, but Methuselah’s appeared to be covered in mud.

“What the—” he asked, running his fingers up Methuselah’s muzzle to find that the mud continued well into her upper body. “What have you done to my poor dogs?”

“You mean, other than feed them and train them and otherwise do the job I’m being paid for?” The question must have been a rhetorical one. Dawn paused only long enough to draw a breath before adding, “Uncle spent the morning learning useful farm words, so he’ll know how to recognize things like fences and roads and where to find people out here in the middle of nowhere. Gigi, however, preferred to chase butterflies.”

Phoebe muffled her laugh. “I can’t say I blame her. I’d rather be chasing butterflies, too. But, uh, I thought you were coming over here to help Bea fix the garden. No offense, but it looks a little…discombobulated.”

Bea released a laugh that could only be described as a cackle. “Yes, well, I decided not to bother with that whole mess. I’m going to take a backhoe to the whole thing instead.” Her pause held all the power of a menacing glare. “Or rather, Iwasuntil you decided to throw yours away.”

“You’re not going to bother?” Adam echoed. “But what about your butter beans?”

“Fuck the butter beans. Dawn helped me see reason.”

The wordsDawnandreasonhad no place in the same conversation, let alone the same sentence. “I’m almost afraid to ask,” Adam said.

“Well, you shouldn’t be. This girl has more sense than the entire lot of your family put together. Why should I put this garden to rights if all I’m going to do is sell this place by the summer’s end? It’s not as if any of you will appreciate my hard work and keep it up.”

“Yourhard work?” Phoebe murmured.