Any Day Now

“Can I learn to do that?”

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. “Takes a lot of upper body strength. There’s a wall in a gym in Colorado Springs, a good training wall. There are a lot of climbing gyms in Colorado Springs. A lot of trainers.”

“Is it expensive?”

“It doesn’t have to be, but you should try a training wall before you do anything else. You might hate it. If you don’t hate it, Jackson climbs. I climb. Some of us have extra harnesses and other equipment. But first the wall.”

Just as he said this last bit, the other two men came onto the porch. They also sat down. People around here didn’t ask if they could join you, they just did.

“I’ll show you how,” Rafe said. “I’m Rafe. I think we met a couple of weeks ago. And this is Charlie Portman.” He peeled a banana, bit off a big chunk and seemed to swallow it whole. “I’ll teach you,” Rafe said.

“First the gym, Rafe,” Connie insisted.

“She’s little,” Rafe said. “Hardly any weight to pull up. I could take her up on my back.”

“It’ll go easier and you won’t waste anyone’s day off teaching you if you just try the gym first to see how it feels. That might be the beginning and end of it right there.”

“It just looks so cool,” Sierra said.

“Because it is,” Rafe said, tipping a beer to his lips. When he did that she noticed his wedding ring.

“Was it a training day for you guys?” she asked.

“Not for Timberlake station,” Rafe said. “For Rocky Mountain Volunteer Search and Rescue.”

“Sounds like you’re good people to know if I get in trouble,” she said. “I’ll be sure to let you know when I’m ready for a little training.”

“He’s married,” Connie said.

Rafe smiled handsomely. “No problem, Sierra. Lisa knows I’d never be interested in another woman.”

She sighed. “Do you have a brother?”

“First the wall,” Connie said. “Then I’ll show her.”

* * *

That was twice now, Sierra thought. Twice he was warm and friendly, almost flirty, then it shut down and he became distant and a little cold. The first time was when they met and Moody mentioned Cal, so she wondered if Connie didn’t like Cal. But that was crazy. Everyone loved Cal. Then, when Rafe offered to teach her climbing, his eyes went cold again. So probably he didn’t like her.

She didn’t have the best instincts, she knew that about herself. She wasn’t likely to ask Sully about a single guy, especially a firefighter. Sully had already passed judgment on those guys—half gentlemen, half dogs.

When a little more time passed and more evidence collected, she’d probably just ask Conrad.

* * *

The month of April was perfect for Sierra. She went to a gym in Colorado Springs on a couple of her days off and learned how to climb on the wall. Of course she overdid it and all her muscles ached, but it made her feel so smug. Who knew she could do that? She worked a few mornings and went to a few meetings. She had coffee with Moody and learned he had four grown children. She hung out a bit at The Little Colorado Bookstore getting to know Ernie and Bertrice and picking up a few details about her new home.

But the best part of her new life was Sully.

“Tell me about Maggie shooting someone,” she begged.

“It was a damn fool thing to do,” he said. “Her reasons were right but her follow-through could’ve used a little more thought. She saw a young girl she recognized as one of our camper kids in a pickup with a couple of low-life characters and could tell she wasn’t there by choice, so she tricked the driver into taking a cabin. She told him she’d give him a special deal and turned out he was as stupid as he was bad. Once she had him boxed in she called the police but she wasn’t inclined to wait on ’em to get out here, not with that girl in danger. She loaded up my old shotgun and kicked the cabin door in and fired on them.” He shook his head. “She could’ve called me or gone for Cal, but no. Maggie’s accustomed to do as she pleases, when she pleases. She had a roll of duct tape in her pocket and had ’em all trussed up before the cops got here.”

Sierra was speechless. Awestruck. “What a badass!”

“Those old boys were big and nasty. They could have rushed her, walked right through that shot and taken her down.”

“But she shot them first.”

“Well, one of ’em anyway. The shots brought me and Cal. It would’a been smarter to get us first.”

“And the little camper girl?” Sierra asked.

“Scared to death but otherwise unharmed. She was separated from her family on the trail north of Leadville and they grabbed her. I never heard of such a thing happening around here before.”

“That’s creepy, Sully. It’s not safe out there?”

“Up to that moment I’d have said there’s no safer place than our trails. I hear there’s a lot more Forest Service people out there these days than there used to be, on account of that incident. You got anything to protect yourself with?”

“I have a little can of pepper spray...the kind single women in the city are known to carry...” There were times she considered a handgun but in the end she was afraid to arm herself too much. What if she was incapacitated and it was used against her?

“Might have to fix you up with some real mace, just for my own peace of mind.”

“Should I stop hiking alone?”

He shook his head. “You’re not very alone. There are hikers out there, more of ’em every day. Just don’t get too far away.”

The mace appeared a few days later but Sierra was a little more vigilant, knowing that story. She admired Maggie more than ever. That’s what Sierra had always thought she was, had always aspired to be—a fighter. A fearless, ninja warrior. And it did seem the trails grew more crowded, especially on the weekends. She assumed summer would be nearly hectic for the wilderness.

Meanwhile, she enjoyed nature more than she ever had before. A herd of elk must have taken up residence on a piece of grazing land nearby because she saw some in the campground in the early, early mornings. And of course there were deer now and then, making her drive to Timberlake very cautious. With her work hours beginning right after dawn, she was bound to see a lot of wildlife, something that made the start of her day very special.

Now that the weather was warmer, she and Sully were taking their morning coffee on the front porch. Since he had the pot on before the crack of dawn and she had to leave for the diner by six fifteen, this became their morning ritual. She found herself rolling out of bed early even on days she didn’t have to work at the diner. Sully was reaching a part of her that had long been neglected. She kept very close track of her hours of helping around the store and grounds, proud to note that she was more than deserving of that free cabin. She was at the Crossing afternoons during the week and spent almost all weekend there. She could tell it worked out for Sully, since the campground was busiest then. And she still had time for herself and to check on Cal’s progress.

The last weekend in April the campground was over half-full of cheerful, enthusiastic campers. The wildflowers were in full glory, the lake was still icy cold but it didn’t scare off boaters or even some floaters. There were lots of kids, some dogs that Beau watched very carefully, but they were either friendly family dogs or they were penned and leashed. Beau didn’t mind sharing his territory with the occasional friend; there was a chocolate Lab who Sully said was a regular guest and she liked to swim with Beau. They played havoc on the ducks.

A family appeared with a fifth wheel on Friday afternoon who were new to Sully but he took notice of them right away because the nine-year-old boy behaved a bit oddly. Sully said he might be autistic. He clung close to his mother but seemed to concentrate on his fingers and mutter all the time. There was a little girl, maybe five years old, who had much more energy and attentiveness than her brother, and a golden retriever pup around a year old. The golden was trapped in a kennel that was much too small for her and when she was let out, she was wild and crazy. The man couldn’t handle her, had her in a choke collar that he pulled on relentlessly, shouting, “Down! Down! Molly get down! Sit! Sit!” Then he would just chain her to the trailer and she’d strain against her leash.

The mother, Anne, and the kids were exploring and playing by the lake, but the father, Chad, preferred his lounge chair under the camper’s canopy. The dog spent far too much time in the too-small kennel and her break time was limited to being chained. She was never taken for a run or a walk. And she had a lot to say, barking and whining. Well, she was confined all the time and didn’t get any attention or exercise and she was still a pup, though nearly full grown.

Chad constantly yelled at the dog. He was, in fact, more irritating than the animal. “Molly! Shut up!”

His name was Chad Petersen and he was on Sierra’s wrong side right off. He had a big fancy trailer but he clearly wasn’t camping for recreation, but for relaxation. He was overly friendly, had a big laugh and a loud voice, was very social with his neighbors and always had a beer in his hand. His wife was the one who took the kids walking to the base of the mountains to pick flowers or the edge of the lake where they could play with other children. It was his wife who put out the dinner and turned the burgers on the grill and fed the dog. It was Anne who picked up the dog droppings.

And when the dog got on Chad’s nerves she was stuffed into that too-small kennel. Molly whimpered and whined to be let out.

On Saturday afternoon Sully wandered down to the lake where Anne and the children were. He talked to a few of the women there, including Anne, and when he came back to the store, he reported what he’d learned. “Their boy is autistic, like I figured. He’s real antisocial. His dad thought a puppy would help—bring out his personality—even though his wife told him it might have the opposite effect. She’s not a service animal, for God’s sake. And now that the dog is big and dumb as a puppy, Petersen is frustrated and short-tempered and rather than admit he might’ve been wrong, he’s determined to whip that puppy into shape. I might’ve editorialized that last part, but ain’t it just obvious?”

“That poor little boy,” Sierra said.

“Doesn’t appear the boy knows what’s going on with the dog and his dad.”

Sierra stuck her neck out, probably where she shouldn’t. She approached Chad as he sat under his canopy. Beau was with her and sniffed Molly, who was on her chain. “If you invite the dog to have a swim in the afternoon when it’s sunny or take her for a really long walk up the trail, she’ll tire out and be less noisy,” she suggested.

“If you’d keep your dog away maybe mine wouldn’t bark so much.”

“My dog?” she asked. “This is the owner’s dog. This is Beau and it’s Beau’s campground. Besides, the dogs like each other. Molly’s only barking because she’s bored and lonely.”

“I’ll put her back in the kennel,” Chad said, standing from his lawn chair.

“No! No, please don’t. Anyone could see that kennel is too small. I just thought you could use a suggestion, that’s all. This place is family friendly and that includes pets as long as they’re not vicious. She’s just playful.”

“I’m thinking about drowning her,” Chad said. Then he grinned.

“Aw, jeez,” Sierra said in disgust. “Come on, Beau.”

She went back to the store and located Sully behind the lunch counter.

“Try to stay out of it,” he advised before she even said anything.

“They’re not okay,” Sierra said. “The wife and kids try not to get in his way, they give him a real wide berth, even that little boy. And the dog is barking and straining because she hasn’t had any training. And he said he was thinking of drowning her. I hate him.”

“Don’t waste your hate,” Sully said. “Nobody’s drowning anything at my campground. And how they conduct themselves is not our business unless they’re breaking the law.”

“He’s one inch from breaking the law, I can smell it on him,” she said.

The ruckus of the dog whining or barking and Petersen barking back continued while Sully and Sierra had their dinner on the porch. If a customer appeared one of them or the other jumped up to go inside and wait on them. The few campers who came to the store remarked on the barking dog and the man with the booming voice. “Don’t make the mistake of offering him advice,” Sierra said. “I did and he threatened to drown the dog.”

“Is there anything you can do?” one woman asked. “I think he’s more annoying than the dog!”

“There’s nothing we can do but ask him to leave and take his dog somewhere else,” Sully said. “I hate doing that. I apologize for the noise.”

Things seemed to quiet around the campgrounds as the sun was lowering and people were stoking their evening fires but every time a dog barked poor Molly was set to answer. Then would come the noise of her owner. “Shut up, Molly!”

Sierra was tormented by what was clearly animal abuse. The chain, the cage, the choke collar. A kennel, the right size for the dog complete with blanket and chewy toys, was a good training tool, even Sierra knew that, though she hadn’t had a dog, not really. There had been dogs on the farm when she was growing up, but that wasn’t the same as a pet like Beau. She knew Sully was right, she should just mind her own business.

He knows not his own strength who hath not met adversity.

—Samuel Johnson

Chapter 5

SIERRA BID SULLY good-night at about eight but she remained on the porch with a hot cup of tea. She took a great amount of comfort in routine—she usually got into bed with her water at her bedside and her book in her lap and read until she slept. But tonight her routine was screwed because she could hear Molly whimpering and her heart was breaking.

She wandered over to the Petersen campsite and saw that Molly was stuffed into her kennel outside while the family was inside. The dog cried and let out the occasional yelp. The bluish flickering that indicated a TV in the camper could be seen in the windows, which meant they probably could not hear Molly.

She was going to kidnap the dog.

No, Sully wouldn’t like that. And she was Sully’s guest. So...she would stay up until the dog finally went silent, and then she would sleep. In the morning she would report this abuse to someone, she’d figure out who. She would suggest to Mr. Petersen that he give her the dog to take to a no-kill shelter where she would surely find a wonderful forever home. Maybe she would stroke his ego and tell him he was a good man to take on the dog but it was okay if it didn’t work out with a pet, just do no harm. That’s what she’d do. One way or another she’d separate Molly from the Petersens before they left the campground.

She went to her cabin to get a blanket and pillow and she made herself comfortable in the hammock, just a couple of spaces away from the Petersens’ camper and a still very lonely and unhappy Molly.

Despite the sound of the whimpering dog, Sierra drifted off. She was wrapped up like a burrito in her blanket, snug as could be with the breeze rocking her when she heard a yelp. She jerked awake.

“Just shut the hell up!” Chad loudly demanded. There was another yelp. “I said, quiet!” The yelping grew louder.

Sierra bolted off the hammock and ran to the campsite where her worst fears were realized. Petersen held the dog by the chain collar and smacked her on the head again and again.

“Stop!” Sierra screamed. “Stop that!”

“Mind your own goddamn business,” he said, hitting the dog again.

It took a second to comprehend that he’d behave so, yell so, when he was literally living outside among a large group of campers. “Stop! I swear to God if you strike that animal again...”

He hit her again. Molly cowered and whimpered.

Sierra lost it. She threw herself at the man’s back, launched on him with her arms around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist. “You’re the animal!”

“What the hell...?”

“Treating a defenseless animal so cruelly, how do you like it?” she said, tightening her arms around his neck.

The man shook her violently, but she hung on. He tried prying her arms from around his neck, but there was no give in her. “Beast,” she muttered. “Animal!”

“Sierra! Let loose of that man!”

At Sully’s command, Sierra let go and fell clumsily to the ground, landing on her ass. The fall jolted her for a moment, and then she regained her wits and saw that Anne and her daughter stood in the open door of the camper while Sully stood a few feet away, one hand leaning on a baseball bat.

Petersen huffed a bit to catch his breath. “Good thing you warned her,” he said. “I was close to forgetting she was a girl and give her what for.”

Sully hefted his bat. “You forget that was a defenseless animal, too?”

“It’s my animal!”

“More’s the pity. We got some pretty strict cruelty laws in this county and that was plumb cruel. I called the police.”

“Well, good for you,” he grumbled.

“If you don’t want that dog, I got a home for her,” Sully said.

“Bugger off, old man.”

“Police chief might take her. He’s got four goldens already but he’s mighty fond of ’em and might fancy another. They sleep with him.”

“Take her,” Petersen said. “It’ll save me the trouble of drowning her.”

Sierra got to her feet slowly, brushing off her rear end. The very first thing she noticed was Molly sitting docilely beside her miniature kennel, her head cocked to one side with what looked like a satisfied expression on her face. Sierra quickly went to the dog, took her collar in hand and led her out of the campsite.

Petersen went into his camper, out of sight.

“Come along,” Sully said, heading off for his house, not the store, leaving Sierra and Molly to follow. “I bet you were a lot of trouble to raise.”

“I was hardly noticeable,” Sierra replied.

“There’s a lot of bullshit if I ever heard any,” he said.

He didn’t go inside, but rather to the front porch of his house. He took a seat in one of the rocking chairs, resting the bat on the ground beside him.

“What are we doing?” she asked, standing there.

“Have a seat,” he said. “Just keep a hand on the dog till she decides it’s okay to lay down and relax.”

“Where’s Beau?” she asked, because Beau was usually close to Sully.

“I penned him in the bedroom for now. Molly doesn’t need the distraction.”

Sierra sat down next to Sully. They rocked in the dark and she kept a hand on Molly, gently stroking her. When she’d stop, Molly put her head on Sierra’s lap. She was docile as a lamb. “Why are we sitting here?” she finally asked.

“I’m awake,” Sully said. “Might as well sit up awhile longer and see if there’s anything to see.”

“See? See what?”

He sighed. “Just give it a few minutes. Patience, Sierra.”

After a few minutes, she quietly asked, “Do you think the police chief will take the dog?”

“I doubt it,” he said.

“But you said—”

“Girl, I say a lot of things.”

Sierra just fell silent, Molly’s head in her lap while she scratched behind the pretty girl’s silky ears. She couldn’t imagine what they were doing just sitting there but she took comfort in the fact that Molly wouldn’t be back in Petersen’s care. Then in about fifteen minutes it all began to make sense. Chad Petersen started his big, extended cab truck, backed it up to the fifth wheel, threw the lawn chairs inside the trailer and his family into the truck, disconnected his hookup, reeled in the canopy, attached the trailer to the truck hitch and pulled out.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Round about ten,” Sully said.

“Hey, you knew he’d do that! Didn’t you?”

“I had an idea.”

“You heard the noise when he was hitting her and it woke you?”

“Sierra, I’m over seventy. I sleep in my drawers. You really think I’m spry enough to get my clothes and my boots on and run on over to the campsite in under five minutes? I knew what was gonna happen and just like you, I waited on it.”

“Just like me?”

“Didn’t you take up watch from the hammock?”

“Well...yes! You knew that?”

He nodded in the dark. “Didn’t really surprise me.”

“You think the police will come now?”

“I didn’t call ’em,” he said. “Didn’t want to waste Stan’s time. I knew once I called Petersen on it he’d just pull out.”

“What does it mean? Does it mean you won’t get paid?”

“I wouldn’t care, if it came to that, but as it happens I took a nice deposit from his credit card. What it means, I reckon, is you now got yourself a dog.”

Sierra was elated for a moment, until she started thinking about how she didn’t know quite what to do with a dog. She knew what not to do. She’d never hurt an animal. But she was no expert in training one. It wasn’t until Sully stood up to go to bed, finally, that she asked. “Can I borrow some dog food?”

“Just take a bowl with you to your cabin for water and Molly can have breakfast with Beau in the morning. Time she got on a decent schedule.”

“Are you going to help me a little bit?”

“If I don’t, that dog will starve or run off,” he said. “Good night, Sierra.”

* * *

It should have come as no surprise, Molly had not had a proper grooming in a while. She slept with Sierra, snuggled up close, quiet and content and...smelly. Fortunately, Sierra had the whole day to herself on Sunday and could not only make sure Molly had a thorough shampoo but that the linens in her little cabin were also laundered. “We’ll just start over,” she confided to her new best friend.

Molly had to learn some manners for dining with Beau at breakfast—she wanted whatever he was eating, even though it was the same food. It looked like manners could take a while. But Sully coached her to show Molly what to do, then praise her, then praise her again, then let her perform again. “Someone should have tried that approach with me,” she muttered. But Molly, for her part, acted as though she knew who had rescued her. She sat still, wagged and smiled up at Sierra in a way that threatened to melt her heart.

Next it was spa day for Molly and she was prettified. Sully had an extra collar and leash and Sierra employed both to try to show her how to walk beside her, and that was going to take forever. Instead, Sully suggested they show her how to come when called. Molly sat beside Beau, Sully hanging on to both dogs while Sierra told them to sit and stay. Then she walked away, turned back, said their names and the command, “Come.” Molly very likely did what Beau did, but she did it. And both dogs got a small cookie.

“I have to go to work tomorrow,” she said. “How will you manage?”

“Lots of hands around during the day, Sierra. We’ll manage. And if you change your mind, there’s a great shelter not far from here. They’d treat her right until a home can be found.”

“I fought for her,” she said. “Let me try. But if it gets too much for you, do you promise to tell me?”

“Not a lot seems like too much anymore,” he said. “We all deserve a second chance. And I reckon Beau will help train Molly.”

Sierra came home from work with a few new toys for Sierra. She made sure her cabin was puppy safe—nothing left out to get into trouble with. She first walked her, worked with her a little bit, then put her in the cabin with water and two new toys, and left her for only twenty minutes. Then she rewarded her with lots of affection, paid attention to her for twenty minutes, and left her again. That went perfectly well three times.

Then Molly chewed off the handle of her circular brush, which had been sitting atop the bureau. Out of reach.

“Whose reach?” Sully asked.

“Oh God, this is going to take forever!”