Page 70 of Puppy Kisses

Dawn believed that too. She’d thought it was odd that there weren’t more remnants of demolished vegetables scattered about. Not even Dawn—the cow—at her most destructive could pull up potatoes and carrots from the roots.

“You’re not going to tell them, are you?” Bea asked with an anxious inflection. “The Dearborns, I mean? The last thing I need is the whole lot of them trampling through here, full of sympathy and whispers for the sad, lonely lady next door. I’m not some dying old crone.”

“No, not adyingone,” Dawn agreed.

That got a laugh out of Bea—not to mention the glint back in her eye. Dawn was both glad and wary to see it.

Bea’s next words justified the wariness. “It might just so happen that a copy of the paperwork you’re after is filed in my estate lawyer’s office.” She held up a hand before Dawn could shout her protest. “Now, I’m not saying itis, only that it seems a likely possibility. I don’t have a mental record of everything they’ve got squirreled away, but that seems like the sort of thing that would go with the deed, don’t you think?”

Yes, Dawn did think it. She also suspected that Bea knew down to the last tax receipt what was being kept on her behalf. Bea might be a sad, lonely woman, but she was as sharp as they came.

“I’ll give him a call one of these days and have him pull my files out. Not,” she added as a warning, “because I’ve decided for sure what I want to do about this property, but because I like you. You remind me a lot of myself at your age.”

Dawn’s whole body jerked, though she did her best not to show it. Although shelikedBea—in the same way one liked a cute pair of shoes that started causing arch damage after just one hour of wear—she didn’t see a lot of common ground between them. Dawn enjoyed puppies and men, love and laughter. She did her best to fill her days from sunup to sundown, enjoying a whirl of activities and plans that kept her constantly on the go. She did everything she could to avoid going home, where the four solid walls stood as a stark testament that no one was waiting there for her…

Oh dear.

Bea must not have picked up on the sudden chill that moved down Dawn’s spine because she laughed and said, “I was a bit of a tart myself back in the day.”

Under any other circumstances, that admission would have done much to bolster’s Dawn spirit. Today, however, she could only stare at the woman. Bea was so lonely that she’d grown old in this house without anyone to care about what happened to her. She had no friends or family to brighten her golden years. Her neighbors were conspiring to get rid of her through any means necessary.

She’s me in about forty years.

Dawn swallowed and tried to think of something to say—something irreverent and light, something that would prove she was nothing like this woman who had to manipulate and lie just to spend time with another human being.

She came up short. Manipulation and lies were exactly what had gotten her into this position in the first place. She’d lied about Gigi’s origins and manipulated Adam into letting her train Uncle as a way to stay close to him. She’d lied about her true feelings and manipulated everyone into thinking that her only ambition in all this was to be the proud owner of a golden retriever.

With the end result, of course, that she’d gotten exactly what she asked for. She had the golden retriever and not a whole lot else.

“You know what?” Dawn sprang to her feet and wiped her hands on the seat of her shorts. “Iama tart.”

Bea blinked down at her. “Well, shit. Anyone with eyes in her head can see that.”

Dawn didn’t let that remark faze her. With the same emboldened belligerence, she lifted her chin and said, “I like men in general and Adam Dearborn specifically.”

“Anyone with eyes in her head can see that, too.”

That remarkdidfaze her, but Bea only laughed and added, “What the hell else would you be doing here day in and day out? Anyone who thinks you’re digging through some old lady’s basement for shits and giggles has to beblindas well as blind. If you know what I mean.”

Dawn did know what she meant. She also knew that there was only one way she could prove to the world—and to herself—that she wasn’t some milquetoast of a woman who was willing to sit back and let a man dictate the terms of her life.

She liked Adam Dearborn, yes. She probably even loved him. But she wasn’t going to grow old and lonely in a slowly decaying farmhouse waiting for him to come around.

“Bea, how soon do you think you can get your hands on that paperwork?” she asked.

“Well now. That depends on the reason.”

Dawn had the feeling thattrue lovewasn’t the sort of answer that would move a woman like Bea to action, so she said the next best thing.

“A poker game.”

Every sparkle in Bea’s eyes lit up at once. “You saucy minx—are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

She was. Once upon a time, Adam Dearborn’s grandfather had wanted something so much that he’d staked everything he owned to get it: a chance at a better future, an opportunity to build something worthwhile. More to the point, he’d done it even though it had cost him his reputation and probably his dignity.

“If I were to set up a friendly poker game among neighbors, you’d host it, right?” Dawn asked. Considering how much effort would have to go into a party like this one, she hastened to add, “You wouldn’t have to do any of the work, I promise. You can leave it up to me. All I’d need from you is one tiny little stake to get things rolling.”

Bea didn’t pretend not to understand. “And by tiny, you mean every acre of land I own, don’t you?”