Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Iris was different here. The dogs brought her to life in a way the madness of a Buchanan family gathering hadn’t. And Maisie respected that. The dogs brought her to life too. She’d known that ever since Einstein had pawed at her leg, dirty and starving, beaten down by life. Helping him had given her purpose when she’d desperately needed it.

She’d let Iris show herself around mostly, recognizing that she wasn’t the kind of girl who liked being corralled, something else she appreciated, but toward the end of their time together, she herded her over to the sink next to the windows at the far end of the kennels.

“Is this where the cleaning part comes in?” Iris asked, her tone making it clear she was less than excited by the thought.

“Only for our hands. I want to introduce you to someone.”

She expected some sort of smart comment, but Iris just nodded, glancing back at Chewbacca, the part-chow, part-Chihuahua, all teddy bear dog they’d taken in a week ago.

“You’re a fan of Chewie?” Maisie said, scrubbing her hands. She pulled back, leaving the sink for Iris, who shrugged.

“He’s all right, I guess.” But the sparkle in her eyes said she thought he was a whole lot more than that. And if she weren’t already living with a dog and a hell cat, Maisie would have contemplated surprising Jack with another dog. He hadn’t reacted so badly last time, had he? There was something sweet in the way he’d left the decision to Adalia—like maybe he knew how much she needed Tyrion, and vice versa, even though he’d been halfway across the country.

After Iris had washed her hands too, Maisie led her out of the kennel and down the hall, Dustin waving jauntily at them from the front desk. He’d volunteered so much Maisie had taken him on full-time as her volunteer coordinator-slash-jack-of-all-trades. A financial crunch when they were already hurting, but she’d needed the steady help, and retiree or not, he’d made it clear he wanted to be here. Privately, she thought he enjoyed talking to the visitors as much as he liked the dogs, but she was okay with that. She didn’t feel that way, and someone had to make nice, especially with people who came in to surrender pets. Her other full-time employee, Beatrice, wasn’t much for making nice either.

She waved back to Dustin, biting her lip to hold back a laugh when he winked at Iris. She didn’t need to glance sideways to imagine the teen’s look of horror. Dustin was technically Iris’s boss, but Maisie felt no need to point that out. Because she’d decided to take Iris under her own wing.

She told herself it had nothing to do with Jack, and that was partly true—she saw herself in Iris, and she saw Molly in her too—but partly true wasn’t the same thing as totally true. She’d sent him away earlier because Iris had needed him to leave. If it had been up to her, she would have kept him around. If it had been up to her, she would have led him into the playroom and locked the door behind them.

Then again, Jack had made it very clear that nothing more could happen between them, and he was right—not just because of Iris, but because of the whole screwed-up River and Georgie wedding situation.

She’d video-chatted with her sisters again after Thanksgiving, and while Mary had essentially gaped in horror the whole time, Molly had laughed so hard she’d peed a little in her yoga pants. She’d also recorded the whole thing, insisting she wanted to write about it for her blog (with all the identifying details changed).

“Don’t you work for a dating blog?” she’d asked.

“Oh, some things are universally funny,” her sister had said. “No one would mind. Plus, Datesgiving was a huge hit. Especially that guy who brought a wishbone and insisted I break it with him, then carried his half around in his pocket all night.” A sly look had crossed her face. “Besides, you and Jack are sort of involved.”

“Is that why he cringed when I grabbed his thigh?” Of course, that wasn’t entirely true, but the outcome was the same. “You just need to accept it’s not going to happen. And so do I. It’s for the best anyway. I need to get through this wedding before I can move on.”

Mary was the one who’d responded to that, shaking her head slowly. “Maisie, Mom would have told you that you can move on any damn time you choose.”

Which was maybe the first time she’d heard her sister say “damn.”

Shaking the thoughts away, Maisie led Iris to the back office and knocked twice.

“Dustin, for the love of God, I do not want one of your stinky cheese Danishes. I do not care that someone’s filming a movie in Sylva, and I definitely don’t care that you’re wearing mismatching day-of-the-week socks. Now leave me in peace so I can crunch some numbers.”

The corners of Iris’s mouth twitched in a would-be smile, and Maisie smiled back and opened the door.

“It’s me, Beatrice.”

Beatrice shook her head in a manner that said she wasn’t appeased. “Don’t get me started on that boy. You puffed him up something good by hiring him.”

She might like to call Dustin “boy,” but Beatrice was younger than him. Not by much, but her hair was still black, interrupted by the occasional strand of silver, her dark skin barely wrinkled.

“Beatrice, this is Iris. She’s our new volunteer. And Iris, this is Beatrice. Without her, nothing would get done around here. As a rescue, we’re dependent on fundraising, and Beatrice is the one who keeps the lights on and the doors open. If you’re interested in the business aspect of the shelter, she’s the one you want to talk to.”

She hadn’t thought Iris would be interested in that, necessarily, but she only had two full-time employees, plus a part-time night manager, and she introduced all of the volunteers to them. There was another reason she’d brought Iris back to meet Beatrice, one she hadn’t fully admitted to herself.

When she’d been down, Beatrice had pulled her up. She’d helped her establish all of this. This shelter. This life. And Iris was clearly struggling too.

“I’m glad to meet you, Iris,” Beatrice said, her annoyance toward Dustin dissipating. “I work at home more often than not, but I’m always here on Thursday afternoons. And if you have any interest in the numbers, I’d welcome your help one afternoon.”

To Maisie’s surprise, Iris brightened. “Yes, I’d love that. I want to be a business major in school, and I love dogs.”

“Good for you,” Beatrice said. “Most kids don’t know their a—butts from their elbows when they start college. If you know what you want going in, you’re ahead of the rest. Are you coming in every Thursday afternoon?”

“And Tuesdays,” Iris said, giving Maisie a rebellious look. They’d only talked about Thursdays, but she wasn’t about to say no.

“Why don’t you come by next Thursday when you get in, and you can be my new protégé.” She smiled up at Maisie. “Maisie here was my first protégé, and she’s not doing too poorly for herself.”

Something like curiosity flashed in Iris’s eyes, but she shut it down quickly.

“I’d like that,” she said simply. And then, as if remembering some distant lessons of etiquette—lessons, Maisie gathered, Jack had probably taught her rather than her mother—she added, “Thank you.”

“That’s settled then,” Beatrice said. “Now, I’ll let you two go, but Maisie, you and I are going to have a serious discussion about putting locks on the office doors.”

Maisie just waved her off, knowing she actually liked Dustin. They both did.

“See you later.”

Iris didn’t talk much as they headed out to the Jeep and piled in, but she scrunched her nose against the dog smell.

“I’m surprised you’re not used to it after being in the kennels for so long,” Maisie commented.

“I’m not sure it’s the kind of thing you can get used to.”

Which was something Maisie had said herself more than once, so she just nodded. “Fair enough.”

“What did Beatrice mean,” Iris said, “about you being her protégé? Do you work on the numbers too?”

Maisie pulled out of the lot, heading toward the Buchanan house. “No, but I had to learn some things to open the shelter.” She shot a quick glance at Iris. “When my parents died, they left me that property.” Iris’s eyes rounded, but she kept going. “Well, they left it to my sisters too. They were going to flip the building and sell it. Beatrice was my mom’s best friend, and she left her job to help me start the shelter. I think she did it because she wanted to take care of me. That’s what she meant.”

Iris was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “I’m sorry they’re dead.”

“Me too.”

“I don’t really have parents either,” Iris said, picking at something on her shirt. Maybe an invisible thread, but given she’d been walking dogs for almost two hours, it could very well be a rogue tuft of fur. “I only know who my dad is because I went through my mom’s phone and found his number. I…I tried to meet him, but he refused to see me. He said he only wanted to hear from me through his lawyer.”

Maisie wanted to hug her then, and maybe toss some puppies at her, but she held back, both because she was driving and because doing any of those things would surely result in Iris pulling away.

“That sucks,” she said, because it did. “But you have a brother who cares a lot about you.”

“Yeah, sometimes too much,” Iris said, looking up at her. Maisie only spared a quick glance at her, but there was something sharp in her eyes. A sort of scrutiny like she was studying Maisie for cues.

“Maybe he’s trying to make up for both of your parents.”

“I guess so,” Iris said, “but it would be nice if he could just settle for being my brother.”

“Give him time,” Maisie said. Truth be told, the only thing Iris could do to get Jack to back off was to be happy. But she wasn’t going to say that. Iris was too young to be burdened with that responsibility.

They were mostly quiet for the rest of the trip, although Iris surprised Maisie by asking some questions about a couple of the dogs. Chewie and the black lab she’d played with first, Pete.

“Do you think I could really help train them?” she asked as Maisie pulled into the drive.

“I do.” Maisie shot a glance at her. “I didn’t have a dog of my own until I was almost twenty, and I learned pretty quickly. You’re a quick study. You’ll learn too.”

Iris glanced at the house. “Please don’t tell Jack what I said to you. About my dad, I mean. He doesn’t know.”

Maisie mimed zipping her lips. “In the vault. And yes, I know I’m mixing metaphors. But that’s how serious I am about keeping it quiet.”

Iris nodded and then got out, heading for the door.

It came as no surprise at all when it popped open before she could get there, Jack peeking his head out like—

She stifled a laugh. Like a freaking jack-in-the-box. Probably he’d been waiting on the nearest couch the whole time Iris had been gone.

“See?” she called out, following Iris. “I told you I’d bring her back in one piece.”

He glanced up at her, gratitude in his gaze, and something more—the same something more she saw whenever he looked at her—but then his attention shifted totally to Iris.

Helicopter Brother, reporting for duty, she thought to herself.

There was something so endearing about his concern, about this big, strong man who’d taken it upon himself to be both mother and father to his little sister. But if Jack was having problems connecting with Iris, he was taking the worst possible approach.

She didn’t feel she could tell him that, though. Not yet, anyway.

“How was it?” he asked, hovering. “Did any of the dogs jump on you or bite you?”

Iris heaved a sigh and made her way through the door. Jack looked like he wanted to follow at her heels like a herding dog, but he held back and waved Maisie through. When she passed, she felt a whisper of his hand on the small of her back, there and then gone. It sent a pulse of heat through her, but she just stepped aside so he could pass her.

Iris turned to look at him. “I’m going to volunteer at the shelter on Tuesday afternoons too,” she said. A defiant look crossed her face. “Maisie said I could.”

“Sure,” he said with a slightly baffled look. “That’s great. Yeah.”

“I have homework to do.” She pushed past him, leaving him with a slightly lost look.

Adalia emerged at the top of the stairs, looking fresh and pretty in a bright turquoise shirt and a bohemian skirt. Maisie probably should have changed, but it wasn’t like Adalia and Blue weren’t used to her stinking of dog. Besides, she didn’t regret bringing Iris home. She’d learned so much more about her, and about Jack.

Iris edged over to the far end of the stairs, like Adalia might have cooties.

“Do you want to make dinner with me tonight?” Jack asked her. “I thought we could cook together, like we used to.”

“No, thanks,” Iris said, in that careless way teens had about them, like she didn’t know she was being cruel or maybe didn’t care. “There’s some leftover pizza in the fridge, and I’m going to video-chat with Janie.”

“I’m glad you girls are still so close,” Jack said hesitantly, “but aren’t there some friends you’d like to hang out with in Asheville?”

Iris laughed, actually laughed, and then said, “Are you giving me social advice?”

And then she was gone in a thunder of steps.

The look on Jack’s face…

Maisie wanted to say she’d cook dinner with him, gladly, especially if his cooking was anything like his bartending. But she already had plans, and she wasn’t the kind of person who canceled on someone lightly. Besides, she’d promised Finn that she would tell Adalia and Blue about River, and she intended to go through with it. Maybe Adalia could help her figure out how many wedding-related activities a co-best man could feasibly shrug off.

But Adalia reached the bottom of the steps and slung an arm around Jack’s shoulders as Tyrion, appearing from the kitchen, danced around them.

“Cheer up, Jacques,” she said, a nickname she’d appropriated for him after finding out that his grandmother had been a French immigrant. “She’ll come around. In the meantime, why don’t you come out with us?” She glanced at Maisie, who was wrestling with how she felt about this development—on the one hand, she’d wanted to have that heart-to-heart with Adalia and Blue, but on the other…

She wanted to spend time with Jack, to get to know him better. To soak up his presence.

“Blue’s not coming,” Adalia told Maisie. “She texted you too, but I know you. Usually your phone is off at the kennel. It’s something to do with a support group meeting, but she was a bit cagey about giving details. Obviously it’s not AA.”

Obvious, since they always went out for drinks, and Blue seemed to get tipsy off a single drink.

“Huh. We’ll have to interrogate her the next time we see her,” she said.

Jack smiled a little, as if amused, and she suspected it was because he was the type who’d allow someone to sit with their secrets. He would no more press someone for a confidence than he would let Iris go to a twenty-one-and-up concert.

“Well, what do you say, Durand?” she asked, letting her tone get a little playful. “Willing to let someone else make you a drink for a change?”

He glanced upstairs, looking a little twitchy at the thought of leaving Iris, but then something in his posture straightened and his gaze landed on Maisie. His eyes danced over her for a moment, like she was wearing a dress and heels instead of torn-up old jeans and a random shirt, then settled on her face. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess I could be accommodating. Let me run up and tell Iris.”

The second he was up the stairs and out of sight, Adalia turned to Maisie, raising her eyebrows.

“You’re welcome,” she said.

It took Maisie a second to realize what she meant—Adalia must have noticed something between them at Thanksgiving.

“So Blue didn’t have a meeting?” she asked, shaking her head slightly. “That’s some master-level manipulation.”

“Oh, she does,” Adalia said, “but it’s ending early. She offered to meet us later.”

“Adalia, I don’t…” But she didn’t have time to finish whatever it was she’d intended to say—and honestly, she wasn’t sure—because Jack came down the stairs. And every bit of her seemed to lift in anticipation.

Great, Red, the first man you ever loved still has no idea, and now you’re in danger of falling for a man who’s told you it’s a no-go.

But there was a naughty part of her that wondered if everything was a no-go, or just dating. Because they’d been plenty good at the other stuff.