The following is the first chapter of a new romance novel I started based on a dream. We'll see how far I go with Faith and Hope....
He
scratched at the back door, bumping it with his massive head. When no one came,
he whined and scratched the door again. A man opened it. He looked down at the
big odd-looking dog with distaste.
“Beat
it,” he said, and shut the door.
The
dog considered the closed door for a while. He circled around the pretty house
to the kitchen door. That one smelled better. He scratched at that door and
whined. This time he made sure he was ready with his most pathetic face. A
woman opened the door. She smiled down at him.
“Hello
there, big guy,” she said. She reached out her hand and he sniffed it politely,
resisting the urge to slobber and bounce for joy. This was the place. He hadn’t
been sure because of the man, but now he was sure.
“Do
you belong to someone?” she asked, looking around the yard. “Did you get lost?
You’re awful skinny. Come on in and I’ll give you something to eat. Maybe we
can find your owner.”
The
dog sauntered into the kitchen and settled on the rug, making himself at home.
This was the perfect place for him to be found.
Chapter 1
It shouldn’t have been that hard to
find a dog that weighed in at one hundred and fifteen pounds and looked like a
cross between a Weimaraner an Irish wolfhound and an SUV. In the two years
since Tramp had adopted Hope and me, he had never showed any interest in
leaving. I blinked back tears while I drove my 1992 rust-bucket Jeep Cherokee
down the unfamiliar back-roads. I didn’t have the gas to drive around anymore.
I had no money to buy more.
“Why would he run off?” six-year-old
Hope asked.
“I don’t know. We’ll find him, don’t
worry.”
I had pulled over on the side of the
road to stretch my legs and Tramp had waltzed off into the trees. I hadn’t
thought anything of it until he didn’t come right back. I had already knocked on
five doors looking for him. I wished I could make myself more presentable. I
hadn’t had access to a shower in so long, and sponge baths and washing my hair
in public bathrooms wasn’t doing the trick. I tied my brown hair back to hide
the tangles and greasiness. I was wearing my cleanest t-shirt and jeans, but
that wasn’t saying much. I had a grand total of two dollars and twenty three
cents in change and had been driving with my gas light on for the past half
hour. What the hell was I going to do when I found Tramp? I couldn’t afford to
feed Hope and me, never mind the monster sized dog.
I pulled into the parking lot of
Land’s End Bed and Breakfast. The Jeep’s engine sputtered as I turned it off.
If I was lucky it would start again. I kept my tears back and smiled for Hope.
“Let’s check and see if he came
here,” I said.
She dove out of the car, the lights
of her sneakers brightly red in the fading light. Her blond curls were a mess,
as always. Her little blue sundress was stained with cranberry juice but it was
the cleanest thing we had. I followed after her up the stone walkway, admiring
the masonry.
I opened the door, finding the
entryway empty. There was a desk with a bell a sign prompted me to ring for
service. Hope rang the bell with the enthusiasm of a child until I stopped her.
A woman in her mid twenties walked
in from down a hallway. She was nearly my height, which was a surprise. At six
feet, I normally towered over most other women. She wore jeans and a white
shirt with an apron tied over it proclaiming ‘If you’re going to harass me
please make it sexual.’ She had dark brown hair tied back, wore no make-up, and
had stunning blue eyes.
“Welcome to Land’s End,” she said.
“I’m Abigail. What can I do for you?”
“We lost our dog,” Hope piped up.
“He’s big and gray, like the dog from Lady and the Tramp, only he’s wicked
big.”
The woman smiled. “He knocked on the
kitchen door about an hour ago,” she said. “I gave him something to eat. I was
just about to call the police to see if anyone was looking for him.”
I blinked tears from my eyes.
“Thank you so much. I pulled over to
let him stretch his legs and he took off. It’s so not like him.”
“Come on back,” Abigail waved us
after her. We followed her down the hall into a warm well-used kitchen. Tramp
was sitting on an area rug, gnawing on a chunk of rawhide. He jumped to his
feet and barreled into Hope with his usual enthusiasm. I dropped to my knees
and threw my arms around his neck, unable to hold back my tears of relief.
“Don’t you ever run away from me
again,” I said into his shaggy gray fur.
He licked my tears and began his
version of talking. It was a combination of whines, soft barks, moans and
similar doggy words. He would carry on at length at times. It was one of my
favorite things about him. Sometimes he and I would talk back and forth for an
hour or so.
I looked up at Abigail. “Thank you
so much for finding him,” I said.
“He found me,” she shrugged.
“He does that,” Hope said. “He found
us when I was four. This mean dog was going to bite me, but Tramp scared him
away, even though he didn’t know me yet. Tramp started living with us in the
Jeep. He keeps me warm at night.”
I tried to hide my embarrassment in
Tramps fur. I glanced up to see confusion in Abigail’s eyes. I stood up,
grasping Tramp’s collar firmly.
“We should be going. I’m sure you’re
busy,” I said.
“Would you like to stay for dinner?”
she offered. “We’ve got three guests right now and I was about to put out the
meal for them.”
“Thank you, but no,” I said, hauling
Tramp toward the hallway. He wasn’t cooperating.
“But I’m hungry,” Hope said. “All we
had for breakfast were those crackers.”
“We’ve got some more food in the
car,” I said.
Abigail followed us down the hall
and out the front door. Tramp made me drag him the entire way. I needed to get
away fast. I couldn’t afford to pay for dinner. I had one last package of
crackers Hope could eat. I’d gone without often enough. Tomorrow morning I’d
start looking for a waitressing job. Once I had work we’d be fine.
Abigail was looking at my Jeep with
a frown on her face.
“You girls moving?” she asked.
“We’re always moving,” Hope chimed
in helpfully. “Oh, look at the garden!” There was a beautiful garden beside the
house, bordered by a white picket fence. It was filled with freshly planted
seedlings. Hope ran over to get a better look in the failing light.
Abigail stood beside me. Without
turning to face me, she said, “Do you have somewhere to sleep tonight?”
“We’re fine, thanks for finding my
dog,” I began.
“Do you have somewhere to sleep
tonight?” she repeated, still not looking at me.
“I don’t have enough money to stay
here,” I said.
She turned so she was facing me and
looked into my eyes.
“Do you have enough money to stay
anywhere?” she asked.
I wanted to lie to her. My largest
fault had always been pride. And if it was just me, I would have lied. But I
looked over at Hope who was singing to the baby plants.
“No, I don’t,” I said, fighting
tears. “Hope got sick and my boss fired me when I had to stay home to care for
her. Then I got sick and I couldn’t find more work. I was behind on the bills
already. I just couldn’t catch up.”
“How long have you been living in
that Jeep?” she asked.
“Two weeks.”
Abigail looked at Hope, then back to
me.
“Ok, then. Get your things and
follow me.”
“What?”
“You think I’m gonna let you drive
out of here with no money and no place to go?” she rolled her eyes. “I got
plenty of space and plenty of food.”
“I don’t have any money,” I
protested.
“I also got more work than I can get
done,” she continued. “You know how to cook? Clean? Sew?”
“I can do anything you want. You’re
really going to let us stay?”
“Of course. Tramp picked this place
out for you. It needed some new faces.”
“I’ll pay you back for everything, I
promise,” I said, grasping her hand. “I’m a hard worker. Hope is really well
behaved. She’ll help out too. And Tramp, well, he’s big, but he’s gentle.”
“Relax, Honey.” Abigail smiled.
“What’s your name?”
“Faith Turner,” I shook her hand.
“And that’s Hope.”
“Is she your daughter?”
“Yes,” I lied. The truth was just
too complicated. But I hated being dishonest, do I added, “I’ve raised her
alone since she was a month old.”
“Well, Faith,” Abigail put a hand on
my shoulder. “I think it’s time you weren’t so alone.”
