Kathryn Springer

The Bachelor Next Door


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a few things at the grocery store.

      She did, however, locate the coffeemaker and brew a fresh pot.

      During her brief tour of the house the day before, Lily had discovered a stone patio located off the back of the kitchen. She shouldered open the weathered screen door and stepped outside, a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and her Bible in the other.

      Proof that her morning routine had changed, too. A few months ago, Lily’s definition of “time with God” had been a muttered prayer, asking God to bless her day, as she sprinted to her car. Never realizing that a continued conversation with God, the privilege of sharing her heart, was the blessing.

      She lowered herself into a wicker rocking chair that faced the river and closed her eyes, letting the scents and sounds wash over her as she thanked God for the beauty of His creation.

      When she opened them again, she was no longer alone.

      A dog with long ears and an even longer body sat next to the chair, staring up at her with liquid brown eyes.

      Lily smiled at her unexpected visitor. “Well, good morning. Where did you come from?”

      Sonia hadn’t mentioned owning a pet, but Lily couldn’t quite picture Brendan choosing this particular breed to be his canine companion. Although it would explain the mournful expression on the basset hound’s face. And its sausage-like shape? Evidence of a master who practically lived in his office.

      Lily took pity on the poor thing.

      “You can hang out with me for a while. How about that?”

      The dog’s tail thumped the ground, which Lily interpreted as a yes. She tucked the Bible under her arm and the basset hound trotted alongside Lily as she made her way back to the house.

      With limited access to Brendan’s office, she’d decided to concentrate on the living room. By the end of the day, the glowing tangerine walls would be replaced with a soft shade of aqua. Pale. Serene. A respite from a stressful day.

      Lily had a feeling she would be spending a lot of time there.

      “First things first.” Lily looped a bandanna around her hair and knotted the ends together at the nape of her neck. “In this line of work, it’s function over fashion.”

      The basset hound made a strange sound.

      Lily glanced down and saw a colorful piece of cloth clamped in her jaws.

      She laughed.

      “I guess this means you want to help.”

      Chapter Three

      Laughter.

      It was the first thing Brendan heard when he opened the front door the next morning.

      That’s all he needed. Someone in the house holding a paintbrush in one hand and a cell phone in the other.

      Brendan bypassed the kitchen, ignoring the lure of freshly brewed coffee as he strode down the hall to the living room. If he and Lily Michaels were going to be sharing space for the next two weeks, it wouldn’t hurt to establish a few ground rules. Let her know what he expected…

      He pulled up short in the doorway.

      Lily was kneeling in front of the fireplace. The paint-splattered overalls she wore somehow managed to enhance her slender curves rather than detract from them. Two bright golden tassels peeked out from underneath the green bandanna tied around her head.

      No paintbrush. No cell phone. Instead, she was holding on to the corner of another bandanna…the other end was attached to an overweight basset hound.

      It couldn’t be.

      “Missy?”

      Brendan realized he’d said the word out loud when Lily’s head jerked up.

      “Is that your dog’s name?” Smiling at him, she surrendered the colorful strip of fabric.

      “She’s not my dog.”

      Missy clattered over to him and deposited the damp cloth at his feet.

      “Really?” Lily rose to her feet and parked her hands on her hips, a pointed look at Missy conveying her skepticism.

      “My mother volunteers at the shelter and she tries to find people willing to adopt the animals that end up there.” Although Brendan had no idea how the dog had covered the mile-long trek from town on those stubby little legs.

      “She’s a stray?”

      “Not anymore,” Brendan said quickly. “Mom found a home for her before she left. Missy must have gotten loose somehow and wandered away.”

      There was also the distinct possibility she’d been dropped off on his front porch in the middle of the night.

      “Maybe she thinks this is home.” Lily looked down at the basset hound, and her expression softened.

      The furry martyr collapsed at his feet with a heavy sigh.

      Brendan inwardly rolled his eyes. “I’ll give Mr. Wilson a call and let him know Missy’s here.”

      “She’s probably thirsty.” Lily moved past him and the scent of her shampoo, something light and citrusy, teased his senses. “I’ll get her some water.”

      “There’s a dish under the sink.” Brendan pivoted in the opposite direction and retreated to his office to find a phone book. He was expecting a call from a customer within the next few minutes and a shipment of materials for their next order was on its way, something Brendan needed to sign for when it arrived.

      He punched in Ed Wilson’s number, foot tapping the floor in time with every ring. Just before he was about to hang up, Brendan heard a click.

      “Wilson residence.”

      “Mr. Wilson? This is Brendan Kane. I’m calling because you must have—” give the man the benefit of the doubt now “—misplaced something. Missy showed up here a little while ago.”

      “So that’s where she ran off to.” Brendan heard a rusty chuckle. “All I can say is the good Lord must have put a homing device in those critters when He created them.”

      “Her home is with you,” Brendan reminded him.

      “Can’t keep her,” Ed said bluntly. “My son called last night and invited me to spend the summer in Chicago, but he lives in one of them fancy condos. No pets allowed.”

      “I understand.” Brendan squeezed the base of his skull, a futile attempt to ward off the tension headache snaking its way up the back of his neck, one vertebra at a time. “Thanks for your time, Mr. Wilson.”

      “Sorry I can’t help you out.”

      Not as sorry as Brendan.

      The second call he made was to the animal shelter. It rang ten…twelve times…before Yvonne Delfield answered with a breathless hello. The woman was a close friend of Sunni’s, one of the few who’d actually supported her decision to take in three rowdy boys who’d slipped between the cracks of the child welfare system.

      “Missy is with me,” he said without preamble.

      “Brendan?” And then, “Oh, that’s a relief! I was hoping you’d decided to keep her.”

      “What? No, I didn’t…. July is one of the busiest months of the year.” Brendan put Yvonne on speakerphone and fired up his computer to confirm the time of an afternoon appointment. “She managed to escape from Ed Wilson and ended up back here. I was just calling to make sure someone would be around when I bring her back to the shelter.”

      “Oh.” The word rolled out with Yvonne’s sigh. “One of the county deputies found a litter of puppies living in a shed and brought them in, so we’re a little short on space at the moment. Would you be willing to keep Missy until Sunni gets back and finds another