A Family for Luke

Go play with your sister, Luke silently urged the boy. You don’t know how lucky you are.

Cooper’s bark broke into his memories. Luke pushed himself away from the fence as Cooper barked again. He had to take the dog out of the truck.

As he turned, a woman pulled up behind his trailer and got out of the car.

The widow, he presumed.

She was younger than he had imagined. Slimmer. Dark hair pulled back under a bandanna, dark eyebrows that winged upward enhancing her eyes. She had a droop to her shoulders, but then she stopped at the end of the sidewalk and a gentle smile eased across her lips. She bent over the flowerpots, picked a wilted blossom out of it and her eyes seemed to brighten.

Luke was still watching her as he walked to his truck and opened the door for his dog.

Bad idea.

Seeing his moment of freedom, Cooper bolted past him, almost knocking him over.

Luke caught himself on the edge of the door, regaining his balance and watched with the horror of inevitability as his Cooper streaked down the sidewalk, all legs and flapping ears and lolling tongue.

“Cooper. Come back here now,” he yelled, as if what he said penetrated the gray matter that was his dog’s brain.

Cooper was out, and he was in a new place full of new smells and new things to see. His master was, for the moment, invisible.

“Cooper. Heel,” Luke shouted, charging around the front of the truck.

Cooper stopped, and for a brief moment Luke thought all those dog obedience classes might have sunk in.

But the woman bending over the flowerpots had caught his attention. A potential playmate. And with one burst of exuberant energy, Cooper jumped on top of her just as he always did to Luke.

Only, this woman wasn’t as big as Luke and she went down like a rock, taking the flowerpots with her.

The woman managed to push Cooper off her and scrambled to her feet just as Luke ran up. Cooper cavorted on the lawn in front of her, ready to play.

“Sit, you dumb mongrel,” she snapped.

Cooper tilted his head, as if studying her.

“I said sit.” She sounded really ticked now.

And to Luke’s surprise, Cooper did. Right on the flowers that had spilled out of the pot, effectively squashing them.

“I don’t believe this,” she said, turning her startlingly blue eyes to him as he grabbed Cooper’s collar. “This is like a nightmare.”

Even though her mouth was pulled tight with disapproval, she couldn’t hide the fullness of her lips or the delicate tilt of her cheekbones. He couldn’t rightly say she was cute when she was angry, but he wanted her to smile again like she was when she had walked up the sidewalk.

Of course, he wasn’t going to be the recipient of that happy occasion anytime soon, judging from the depth of her frown or the way her hands were clenched into tight fists.

“Sorry about that,” Luke said, trying to sound apologetic without sounding obsequious.

“Could you please get your dog to get off my flowers?”

“Of course.” He didn’t apologize this time. That was getting old, and more apologies wouldn’t change the destruction his dog had created. “I own the house next door,” he said, trying to make conversation to bridge the awkwardness between them. “My name is Luke. Luke Harris.”

“Janie Corbett,” she said in a clipped voice, still glaring at Cooper, who was staring at her.

“I’ll pay for whatever damage he’s done.”

“That’s not necessary,” Janie Corbett said. “And besides, these plants can’t be replaced. They’re very unusual.”

“How unusual can flowers be?” Luke couldn’t understand what she was talking about. Flowers were flowers, right? You buy some more, stick them in the pots and you’re done.

“I started them myself from seed,” she said bending over to salvage what she could from the mess Cooper had made. “And your dumb dog just ruined five months of work. Five months I can’t reproduce.”

Was that a hitch in her voice? Was she really that upset over a few lousy flowers?

Then the door to the house slammed open and the little girl with the brown curly hair bounced onto the deck, clutching her bear.

“Mommy. You’re home,” she called.

Distracted by this new person, Cooper leaped to his feet, barking and tugging on the collar.

“Luke, hang on to that dog,” Janie cried out.

“Mommy. The dog.”

Autumn’s frightened voice caught Janie’s attention and, it seemed, that ludicrous dog’s. He barked again and took a step away from his owner, his focus on her daughter standing on the porch.

“Hold on to him,” she shouted at Luke. It couldn’t happen again. Please not again.

“Mommy.” Autumn’s voice grew panicky as the dog responded to her cry with unrestrained gusto.

Janie watched the creature pull free then rush toward Autumn, who had dropped her bear and now stood frozen on the porch.

“Cooper. Down. Now,” Luke yelled in a feeble last-ditch effort.

Autumn’s hands were pressed against her eyes, as if bracing herself for what might happen. Again.

But the dog came to a halt, then dropped to a squat on the sidewalk below Autumn, head cocked to one side.

“Luke, if that dog hurts her…” Janie couldn’t finish the sentence; her voice was trembling too hard.

“I think he’s okay,” Luke said, edging closer to him.

The terror circling Janie’s heart with an iron band eased as Luke reached for the dog’s collar. Then the front door opened, and Todd stood in the doorway. Thankfully, both Todd and her elder daughter Suzie had been gone that horrible day. They didn’t have the same reactions to dogs that Autumn did.

“Hey. Neat dog,” he said, grinning.

Cooper, suddenly distracted, charged up the steps, past Autumn and through the open door behind him.

Janie ran to Autumn’s side. She knelt, touching her daughter’s face looking for any sign of trauma. “Are you okay, honey?”