Keeping Cole's Promise

That job satisfaction made it impossible to consider quitting her job, even after hitting the lottery.

Her phone chirped to notify her that a text had come in. Every time she heard it, she pictured a bluebird of happiness.

Booked the flight into Austin. It’ll be good to see my kids in person. Her mother had taken to texting instead of calling, probably because she was too busy for long conversations. After a lifetime of charity work in Holly Heights, Rebecca’s parents had moved to Florida, where they played golf. Lots and lots of golf.

Already planning the menu. Rack of lamb. I’ve always wanted to try it. Can’t wait to see you. The farewell dinner for Daniel and Stephanie was going to be her inaugural dinner party with the new kitchen. Saying goodbye to her brother and her friend would hurt, but she was anxious to demonstrate what a smart investment the large check she’d write to the contractor would be.

Starving children, Rebecca Lincoln. Refugees. Go for chicken, something reasonable. We aren’t fancy, you know that.

Her mother’s reply shouldn’t have surprised her, because she’d heard similar responses her whole life. But it did shave off a sliver of the good mood she’d begun the day with. Trying something new would have been fun.

While she waited for one of the shelter’s volunteers to come up to the desk, Rebecca wandered over to the bulletin board to check out the photos Sarah had posted of all the dogs up for adoption. She bent to study the details for the cutest beagle on the board when the door opened.

“Welcome to Paws for Love.” The last part of her greeting was strangled as a man stepped inside. His size, the ferocious frown wrinkling his brow, sweat shining on his face, everything about him shouted that he was out of place.

The loud bang of the door as he closed it behind him shook her.

And she was cornered. The sensation of being helplessly cut off flashed through her mind, a reaction from the first and last time she’d tried to stop a fight at the high school. Confident of her authority as an adult and school counselor, she’d stepped between two boys roughly her size and found herself pinned against a wall of lockers, one hard hand on her throat. In the seconds it took Eric Jordan to come to his senses, she’d frantically clawed at that arm and wondered if anyone would save her.

This guy, he was twice the size of Eric Jordan. His shoulders strained against the ironed cotton button-down that had to be at least ten years old. His khakis fit better, but had the same crisp crease that showed careful attention. His white sneakers shuffled as he stopped in the center of the tiny lobby.

She’d been able to look over Eric’s shoulder to see the watching crowd. This guy would block out the sun.

Rebecca put one hand over her racing heart and managed to say, “Can I help you?”

He fidgeted nervously for a second, shifting back and forth between the door and the shelter’s ancient cash register. The too-tight sleeves of his shirt strained over hard muscles as he clenched a folded newspaper. “I’m here about the job.” He wiped one large hand over his forehead.

As Bub, Sarah’s goofy brown dog, came ambling down the hallway, Rebecca held out a hand to try to stop him. Bub had no guard dog setting; he was strictly a social ambassador, a lover, not a fighter.

“Hey, pup,” the big man said, and bent down on one knee. The ominous sound of a seam stretching beyond its limits whispered through the lobby. Bub, sensing another admirer, tipped his chin up for a scratch.

Man and dog communicated silently long enough for Rebecca to get her brain in gear.

“The deadline was Friday. We aren’t accepting applications any longer.” Her voice was the cold, we-have-rules-for-a-reason tone all educators learned early on. People who wouldn’t follow directions were a pet peeve.

“I understand, but I’m asking for a favor, some leeway.” He braced one hand on the counter beside the computer, and the whole base tilted. He scrambled to right it, but everything on top crashed to the floor. The clatter kicked up her heart rate again. Rebecca held out a hand to keep him from crossing behind the counter to clean up his mess.

“We set the deadline for a reason,” she said, and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “Everyone wants leeway. Why should we give it to you?”

“Are you the manager?” The guy wasn’t going to take the first no. He didn’t have to. She would have to stand there until he decided to go.

“I’m not, but she’s very busy. We had quite a few qualified candidates, so there’s no real reason to ignore the deadline stated in the ad.” Rebecca spoke slowly, determined to hold her ground. It was the fair thing to do.

“Please. I’ll beg. Is that what you need, Your Highness?” The man squeezed the wrinkled newspaper so tightly it squeaked. “The heat. It makes me short-tempered.”

Before Rebecca could figure out how to answer him, laughter eked around the closed office door.

He turned his head and considered the door. “If you’re not the manager...” Rebecca darted around the counter to stand in front of the door. They couldn’t hire him. He needed to leave.

When he moved closer, she regretted the decision. At this distance, the lines on his face were clearer. The fatigue and desperation in his eyes were impossible to miss. It was tempting to give in.

Very slowly, he put his hands on her tense arms and shifted her out of the way before he reached around her to the doorknob and gave it a twist.

Rebecca fell back a few steps to get some breathing room.

And the giggles slowly died out as Sarah regarded her and the intruder. “Gotta go. Call you later,” she said as she hung up the phone.

Before Sarah could ask or Rebecca could explain, the man said, “Cole Ferguson. I’m here about the job.” He slid the crumpled newspaper on top of the stack of applications and stepped away quickly. One hand ran absentmindedly over his closely cropped hair and he glanced down at Bub. The dog rested against his leg and yawned.

Everyone but Cole Ferguson relaxed a fraction. Rebecca met Sarah’s stare over the desk as Sarah mouthed, “Good people.”

Anxious to get this guy back to wherever he came from so that she could regain her composure, Rebecca said, “I’ve explained the situation. Mr. Ferguson was just leaving.” She raised her eyebrows at him and held a hand out toward the door in case he needed a prompt. He wasn’t listening this time, either.

Cole Ferguson hadn’t moved a centimeter when Jen Neil burst into the tiny office. “I’m telling you, she’s got a business degree and experience with fund-raising. Why would we look for anyone else?” When she realized she was interrupting a conversation already in progress, Jen frowned. “Who’s he?”

“He’s interested in the job,” Rebecca said, “but he’s just leaving.” The way his feet were planted made it clear he wasn’t budging.

Sarah waved a hand. “We’ve got the time. Tell us about your experience. It’s obvious the physical part of the work will be no challenge.” She coughed and then smiled brightly. “And I don’t think we have the right candidate in this stack. No pets, Jen. Your sure bet has no pets, not one to tell me about.” Sarah tapped the last question on the application. “How long is she going to be happy around here? The suit she was wearing when she brought in her application? Had to cost at least eight hundred dollars. Believe me, I know. If it were older, it could be my old suit snagged from the consignment shop. But this place is dog hair and cat scratches and wash-and-wear wardrobe. I need someone who can do more than make phone calls and look pretty.”

“I guess you think you’ve got that covered.” Jen raised an eyebrow.

Sarah stuck her tongue out and they both smiled. Rebecca wasn’t sure whether Jen and Sarah were going to murder each other or run off to lunch together most days. After a rocky past, the two of them were tied together by two great loves: Will Barnes—Jen’s stepbrother, Sarah’s boyfriend and the man charged with matching their lottery winnings with worthy causes—and the need to rescue every stray in the Holly Heights vicinity.

Cole folded both hands in front of him and assumed an impressive, perfectly rigid posture. Did he have military experience?

“I worked with a program for three years. It’s called Prison Partners. We trained rescue dogs from local shelters in basic obedience so that they could be adopted.” He cleared his throat.

Prison? Rebecca did her best not to gasp and point, but her instincts had been right. There was no way they could hire a criminal.

He glanced around the room and rolled his shoulders.

“So that means you were in prison?” Jen asked, her eyebrows set in a firm, disapproving line.

Jen was the one who was convinced Rebecca would lose her millions to the first grifter who came along. Even if Sarah wanted to give the guy a chance, Rebecca and Jen could send him on his way.

Being aligned with cynical Jen was a new, unsettling experience.

“Yes. Just got out,” Cole said in a rough voice. “Aggravated assault. Tried to rob a gas station.” Whatever else he intended to say was swallowed as he clenched his teeth and returned to painfully correct posture.

Sarah tilted her head to the side. “Yeah, it’s coming back to me now. I vaguely remember my father telling me all about it. Your grandmother cleaned our house for a while.”

Awkward silence filled the room until Bub heaved a disgusted sigh.

Everyone took a breath.

“Yeah. I imagine a lot of people in Holly Heights could say that.” Cole tipped his chin up.

“Good character. That was one of the qualifications,” Rebecca said, and pointed at the crumpled newspaper. “Remember? Trustworthy, honest.” Not that there was any way to tell the character of any of the other applicants, but at least they didn’t have prison experience.

“Yeah, well...seems you’re the second criminal I’ve met,” Sarah said with a shrug. “Big Bobby Hillman’s headed for lockup as soon as the police track him down. Surely it won’t be much longer.”

Sarah had gotten pretty desperate for an update on her father. He’d embezzled money from his businesses and disappeared. The Austin police had been getting closer, but Hollister, the Austin detective who’d hounded her for so long, was no longer answering her calls.

Cole’s posture relaxed. She, Stephanie and Jen had all changed their minds about Sarah Hillman since they’d gotten involved in Paws for Love. Apparently, understanding they had something close to being in common changed Cole’s perception, too.

“Nobody was hurt in the robbery. Do I remember that right?” Sarah asked.

“Yes, ma’am. I did a stupid thing, but I’ve learned a lot since. I made a promise. No more trouble. Getting this job would help me keep it.” Cole shifted back and forth and managed to make eye contact with everyone in the room except Rebecca. Bub gave his hand a slurp.

Something about the way his lips softened changed his whole face. Broody disappeared, replaced by humor and affection.

“We haven’t even interviewed the others yet,” Rebecca said. “What if there’s the perfect person in that stack?” She held up both hands. “I’ll get an application. If you measure up, we’ll call you back.” Offering a compromise wasn’t the best solution here, but he wasn’t leaving otherwise.

“Listen...” Cole stopped. His hands tightened into fists. “I know a guy with a record seems like a bad bet. Let me show you what I can do.”

Sarah rested her elbows on the desk. “What did you have in mind?”

Cole straightened his shoulders, as if his confidence grew the closer they got to real work. “Show me your biggest headache. Give me an hour. I’ll have him sitting on command.” He patted his pockets. “But I’ll need some dog treats.”

If he was the kind of guy who made it a policy to always carry dog treats, Sarah would hire him then and there. The former mean girl had a weak spot the size of Texas for her animals.

“Our biggest headache barks when he’s happy, sad, excited or bored, chews on everything that sits still for two seconds, has the attention span of a two-year-old and is the sweetest beagle you’ll ever met,” Jen drawled.

“Wait a minute. The deadline for applications was Friday.” Rebecca held up a hand, the breathlessness hitting again as Cole turned to study her. “We’ve got plenty of candidates.”

“You know how much I love rules, Rebecca.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “Besides, if he can do what he says he can, I want to see it.” She held out a hand to urge them all out into the hallway. “Cole, I believe it’s time you met Freddie. If you want a test to prove your skill, he’s your dog.”

CHAPTER THREE

GETTING WHAT HE wanted when he’d set out on foot from the trailer park that morning made Cole feel good. Every step he’d taken to get to Paws for Love had been a sweaty, exhausting battle between his will and his fear.

Walking two miles in the hot sun was enough to force a man to concentrate on what mattered.

“Here’s our cat room,” Sarah said as they passed two large windows. Cats of all colors and shapes slept or scratched or ate or watched their audience disdainfully. “Have any experience training cats?”

He hated to disappoint her. Sarah’s hopeful tone made him want to say yes, but the redhead, Jen, snorted. “Nobody trains cats. Cats train us.” She was shaking her head as she motioned at Cole to continue walking down the hallway.

You can do this. You’ve worked with all kinds of dogs. Never with an audience like this one, but his pep talk succeeded in soothing some of the ridiculous jitters.

When he’d insisted he talk to the manager, he’d expected to be leaving in handcuffs. Superior Rebecca Lincoln could have called the cops. Touching her was a mistake. He could see her anxiety in her eyes.

That fear burned. Was that how his whole life was going to go? Another good reason to give people a wide berth. He’d get this job, do it well and go home. No need to make friends.

Only one thing could distract him from the doubt and fear of failure—a dog named Freddie who howled as if his heart was breaking the instant Sarah stopped in front of his kennel. He was white and black with a tan face and droopy ears that trembled as he poured out his heart.

“What’s the matter, Freddie?” Cole asked in a deep voice. The dog broke off a building howl and tilted his head curiously, his tail wagging wildly. “You just wanted to say hello, didn’t you?” Cole lifted the latch on the kennel as he braced himself. If he had to guess, Freddie was a jumper.

The slight hesitation to the dog’s exit could be fear. “What’s his story?” He held out his hands for Freddie to sniff.

“His owner died.” Sarah rubbed one of Freddie’s ears between her finger and thumb. “The family played hot potato with Freddie for a few months, but I don’t get the feeling any one of them ever wanted him.” She shrugged. “As soon as I reopened the shelter for adoptions, I had more than I could take, but Freddie was on borrowed time. The guy who brought him in threatened to dump him on the highway.”

Cole heard someone curse under her breath. He glanced over his shoulder at Jen, the one he’d instantly pegged as the hard case in the group. Everyone else had turned to look at Rebecca. The princess cursed? Interesting.

Seeing that he was no longer the center of attention, Freddie picked that second to decide Cole was his new best friend. The dog lunged up, feet and toenails scrabbling on the concrete of the kennel. Cole managed to catch him and ease him to the floor. “Easy, boy. Things are going to get better.”

Freddie immediately started a frenzied race around the room, baying at the top of his lungs. All the dogs in the other kennels answered until it was impossible to imagine a nice calm world with silent dogs in it. When he’d inspected the entire room, Freddie hopped up and down against Cole’s leg until Cole picked him up to cradle him in his arms. There, Freddie grinned, a long pink tongue lolling out of his mouth while Cole pressed his chin against the beagle’s head.

All day. I could do this all day.

Cole shook his head as he scratched Freddie’s bright white chest. Then he realized the whole room had gotten quiet. Losing track of what was going on while he was working with a dog wasn’t that unusual. Looking up to see Sarah and Jen blinking misty eyes at him was a once-in-a-lifetime thing.

And terrifying. He’d learned to live without emotion. Seeing it on their faces and feeling it swirl in the atmosphere made him uneasy. Restless.

“He’s okay. I’ve got him.” Cole bent to put Freddie carefully down. “We should let him run around outside for a few minutes. Should help him concentrate.” Maybe they’d stay inside. The women. That would be good.

“Have some treats,” Sarah said as she reached in a tin on the shelf beside the door and handed Cole a few, bracing her feet to keep from being knocked backward into the doorframe by Freddie’s enthusiasm.

Beagles were known for their appetites. Freddie might have also faced some neglect. Attention and food would work wonders for this dog.

Sarah pulled open a door and stepped away. Freddie didn’t move. His eyes were locked on the treats in Cole’s hand. “Outside.” Cole laughed as intelligent brown eyes darted to meet his. No way, man. That’s what the dog’s expression said. He was staying as close to the treats as he could.

With no other option but to lead the parade outside, Cole stepped out into the hot sunshine. Later in the day would be better for training, but this was his shot.

Freddie drifted a few steps away, drawn by all the new smells. Cole eased down on a picnic table and tried to ignore the eyes locked on his every move.

Pretend this is easy.

He crossed one foot over the other and winced at the tight pull of his shirt across his shoulders.

“Freddie.” He whistled and waved a single dog biscuit in the air.

The picnic table kept him from being knocked over as Freddie launched forty pounds of muscle into the air. Cole caught him and set him down in the grass, one hand on the dog’s back, right above his tail. Freddie eased to an awkward, hovering sit. “Good boy. You know your name.” And your favorite dog treat.

He gave Freddie the treat and eased back, a signal to the dog to go on with his business. “I didn’t have a chance to complete an application but...” Cole lost his train of thought when he noticed Jen and Sarah were both staring at him with hands clasped in front of them. Rebecca was sniffing, her lips a tight line. What did that mean? Was it a good sign or a bad one? “I had some training in landscape maintenance and design. I could help with that.” He motioned at the second play yard, a wild mess of weeds that would need to be cleared before it could be used. “And out front, too.” The sign was new, but everything else about the front of the shelter suggested the shelter director had bigger things on her mind than the flower beds. “If I get the job.” That might sweeten his deal.

Sarah smiled brightly at Jen. Once they high-fived each other, he started to feel better about his chances of landing the probationary period. He repeated the same process with Freddie four more times, adding a “Sit” to each treat.

He had one last biscuit in his hand. This was it, his shot to show them he could work patiently with dogs like Freddie.

“You try it.” He waved at Rebecca. “Let’s see how he responds.” Why her? He wasn’t sure. If he had to come up with a reason, he’d say it was because Sarah and Jen clearly had experience with dogs, and he wanted to show that his training could work for someone who didn’t. Mainly, he wanted to see what she would do. Everything about Rebecca was sunny, like her whole life went according to plan. A dog would shake that up. They were messy and she was clearly into neat.

Rebecca wiped both hands down her white shorts. “Freddie.” She called him with a firm voice and then whistled like Cole.

He knew his eyebrows rose, but he was pretty surprised at the impressive whistle.

So was Freddie. The dog trotted up, spared Cole one glance and then stopped in front of Rebecca.

“Sit, Freddie.” When the beagle carefully folded his legs and sat, they all cheered. Freddie’s total time obeying the command had to be less than two seconds, but he was entitled to join in the party. Rebecca was still cheering when she dropped down in the grass and caught Freddie before he could lick her face.

She was giggling, her hair a curly halo blowing in the weak breeze, when she glanced up to catch Cole’s eye. “I’m not sure he’s cured, but you’ve made a good start, professor.”

Was she teasing him? Cole’s lips twitched in response, but answering her smile with his would be a mistake. She didn’t trust him. That was for the best.

Watching her smile fade as she realized who she was talking to confirmed his own mistrust.

Anxious to get the answer he wanted, Cole rolled his shoulders and heard the whisper of another seam. The shirt he’d found in his closet had been too big at eighteen, a thrift-store find his grandmother had bought for his graduation. He fit the shirt now like he fit his old life in Holly Heights.

“I say yes.” Sarah bent to run a hand down Freddie’s back. “I like his style.”

“You want someone with a green thumb,” Jen muttered. “And a strong back. Also, a good way with animals.” She sighed. “But a record, a history of bad decisions.” Her lips twisted. “Sorry. I’ve got to say no. For safety.”

Cole watched Rebecca’s shoulders relax. She’d been scared to death they might hire him.

“I don’t need a title. Forget assistant manager. I can just be a...worker.” He clenched the wooden seat with both hands to keep from making embarrassing begging motions. “One week. I’ll work for free for one week. And you call me extra help or something. I don’t need the title. But I need this job.” His mouth was too dry to say much more. “I need this place. I need this chance.” The words tasted terrible on his tongue, but he was desperate.

Everyone turned to Rebecca. “We should do some interviews. And if he’s the most qualified, then...” She shrugged. The way she studied the ground instead of meeting his stare was cowardly.

Cole was ready to mumble something about hoping they’d keep him in mind so he could escape, but no one was paying any attention to him. All the women were frowning at...Rebecca.

“I have to work with you, so I’ll make the final call. Better not make me regret it.” Sarah was shaking her head as she stepped around Rebecca and Freddie. “But I have two conditions.”

Cole was already nodding when she held out her hand.

“You work for one month as a probationary period.” Sarah held her hand up to keep him from shaking it. “With pay. And you start tomorrow. Very early.”

“Great.” Relieved and more optimistic than when he’d walked in that day, Cole whistled for Freddie. The beagle raced across the yard, ears flapping in the breeze, to lurch to a stop at his feet in an awkward sit. They still had a lot of work to do and Freddie would forget most of what he’d learned today, but he wasn’t afraid. As long as the dog treats held, Freddie would be the perfect student. “Good boy.” Cole scratched his ears and enjoyed the light wave of laughter that floated in the silence as Freddie flopped on his side to offer him his belly.

“He’s gonna be a success.” Cole scratched the dog and then said, “Let’s go, Freddie.”

Inside, the dog bounded from one kennel to the next, baying his hellos, and Cole picked him up to set him inside his own kennel. Freddie’s expression was predictably heartbreaking. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Fred.”

Conversation was impossible with all the barking and howling, so the group was silent until he stopped in the lobby. “Sunrise?”

Sarah wrinkled her nose. “It’s best to start early in this heat.”

“I’ll be here.” So much weight rolled right off his back as he stepped out into the gravel parking lot that it was easier to stand tall. Spotting EW and his truck idling in the lot was almost more than he could handle. Relief and gratitude and enough fear and remorse that this was what his life had come to all roiled in his brain and he wasn’t sure whether to cry or hit something.