“It’s in the fridge. The wine opener is in the drawer.”
Clint found both and deftly opened the wine and followed Eve’s directions to a table, followed now by four dogs. This was mayhem, but a happy kind of mayhem with everyone contributing, including the guests. Belonging. Intended or not, he was no longer a guest or a visitor; he belonged. At least for tonight.
He’d once known how it felt to be part of a family. But that was a long time ago. Even then, it wasn’t like this relaxed gathering where everyone pitched in, and kids and dogs were welcomed. The dinners at his house had been stilted formal affairs, even when his mother was alive. When his father remarried, he hadn’t been welcome at all.
“Clint?”
He shook his head. “Sorry.”
Nick pointed him to a seat on the far side of the table. “You can sit with me.”
“Sounds good.” He stood at the appointed chair, not wanting to sit until the others came in. Josh appeared carrying two plates, each containing a steak and baked potato. He put one on the table at Clint’s chair and another across from him. “We have the rare ones,” Josh said. “The ladies and Nick share the two medium ones.”
He disappeared again and returned with a plate and bowl heaped with salad. Stephanie and Eve were right behind him with three more plates, each filled with a huge baked potato and steak.
Dinner was great. The steaks were perfect, as were the baked potatoes and salad. Eve kept the conversation going, telling the story of how Nick was bit by a rattlesnake bite and was saved by Amos who, in turn, was bitten. How Nick had been very still while Josh picked up the snake with a stick and threw it.
“And Mom shot it to pieces,” Nick said.
“I’m impressed,” Clint said. “Particularly that you stood so still. Maybe I should have been a Boy Scout.”
“Why weren’t you?” Nick said.
“My school didn’t have a troop.”
“But...”
“Not so unusual,” Josh interrupted.
Eve changed the subject. She turned to Clint. “But do be careful,” she said. “Josh thinks the snake had been wounded by a hawk or something and crawled under the porch for safety, but we do have snakes and other varmints around here.”
She switched her attention to Stephanie who had been quiet. “How is Stryker doing with the rescue training?”
“He’s finished the tracking program. We still have air-scent training to go. Then I have to find the right handler for him. Not easy to do.”
“It won’t be easy to let him go.”
“No,” she said. “But we need more search teams.”
Eve turned to Clint. “I don’t know if Stephanie told you, but she and Sherry are a search-and-rescue team. So far, they’ve found nine lost people, four of them kids.”
“I’m impressed,” he said. “I’ve seen handlers and dogs work. It’s amazing.”
Stephanie looked startled, then shrugged it off. “I’m just one of many.”
“How long does it take to train a dog?” Clint pressed.
“Not as long as training the handler,” Stephanie replied. “It took me more than two years.”
Clint was truly interested. His unit had been borrowed at times to help in international disasters. He knew the training, and often heartbreak, that a team experienced.
“What made you get involved?” he asked.
“Sherry was already a rescue dog when I adopted her. Her owner was killed in an accident, and her mother wanted Sherry to go to someone who would continue to work her in rescue. It was a challenge. You said you joined the army because you wanted to fly. Why did you stay?”
Their gazes were locked, as if they were the only two people in the room. The intensity quieted the others. Her blue eyes were challenging. “I was good at it,” he finally said.
“That’s why I do search and rescue.”
“I suspect you are very good at it.”
“She is,” Eve said. “She’s also a volunteer firefighter with our fire department.”
“A lady of many talents,” Clint said.
“Not really,” Stephanie said. “If you can do one, it’s not that difficult to do the other. A lot of the skills are the same. Mapping, communications, first aid. Finding time for the training is the most difficult part.”
“Do you have many fires?”
It was Eve who answered. “Maybe three or four a year in town, and our department also helps fight forest fires. Unfortunately, we’ve had a long drought, and the forest is like a tinder box. A careless camp fire or heat lightning, and we lose thousands of acres. Fortunately, we haven’t had any near here, but our department has been called in on fires in other areas in the state.”
“I’m impressed,” he said.
Stephanie squirmed in her seat, and Clint was conscious of gazes on him. Speculative on the part of his host and hostess.
He took a sip of wine.
“Josh, did you know Braveheart let Clint pet him?” Nick broke the tension by asking the question.
“Nope. Now I am impressed,” Josh said. “Sure took me longer.”
“Can we have dessert now?” Nick said, skipping to yet another subject. “We’re having Grandma’s strawberry pie for dessert.” He glanced shyly at Clint. “I hope you come over often, Mr. Morgan.”
The comment made Clint grin. There’s nothing like a ten-year-old boy to bring things into perspective.
Nick’s face fell as he realized exactly how his words sounded, that he wanted Clint to return because he would get pie, not to see him.
“Yes, we can have dessert now,” Eve said. “But I think we’ll serve it outside so Clint can see our sunset.” She turned to him. “Do you ride?”
“Horses?”
“Yes.”
“Never had the opportunity, but it’s on my bucket list.”
“Good. We have two horses that are always in need of riding. We’ll make a rider of you. Stephanie, why don’t you take Clint out and introduce him to the horses? Nick can help me clean up the dishes and make coffee. When you get back, we’ll have dessert.”
“Nick can take him,” Stephanie said. “I’ll help with the dishes.”
