Anna's Courage (Rose Island Book 1) (8 page)

What if I went back to school? Lately, I’d been toying with the idea of taking a few classes at the local community college. Because I’d dropped out of college after my first semester, I’d always regretted not finishing my degree. At the time, I didn’t see the point of staying in school when my ultimate goal was to get my pilot’s license. Plus, Marcus and I had broken up, and I didn’t want to continue attending the same college, running into him, and pretending everything was fine.

Against my parents’ advice, I’d paid for a commercial pilot’s training program with the money I’d inherited from my grandparents. By the time Marcus came home for the summer, I’d obtained my Certified Flight Instructor’s credentials and had begun earning money while logging the hours needed to be competitive in the job market.

Marcus and I had resumed our relationship that summer, and I’d wound up pregnant. Although I hadn’t planned on getting married and having a baby at nineteen, I’d truly loved Marcus, and we’d made the best of a less than ideal situation. He’d enlisted in the army while I divided my time between flying and taking care of Travis. Life wasn’t always easy, but for four years, we were happy.

Then he died, and I gave up flying. While everyone assumed I’d stopped out of fear of an accident that would leave Travis orphaned, I sometimes wondered if I was motivated by guilt. Guilt that I was still alive, able to live my dream, while Marcus was gone.

Bianca had encouraged me to go to cosmetology school, and although I enjoyed working at the salon, it wasn’t my dream job. For starters, I didn’t make very much money. Not that I needed a lot, especially given that I paid very little to live at the beach cottage. But there were things I wanted to provide for Travis that I couldn’t because of my limited income, and I feared those needs would only increase as he grew older.

Was it too late to go back to school and change professions? And what about Travis? Did he really need me to be so busy with both work and school?

All these thoughts bounced around my head as I soaked in the tub, failing to relax. But the thought that played most on my mind—the thought that refused to leave me alone—was Nick.

*

I was still
soaking in the bathtub when the front door opened followed by urgent and joyful shouts from Travis. “Mom! Mom! Where are you?”

“In my bathroom,” I hollered back, relieved he was home. I drained the water and climbed out of the tub. As I was drying off, there was a scuffling sound outside the bathroom door. “Travis? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” he replied, impatiently. “When are you going to be out? I want to show you something.”

The scuffling sound increased. “What’s going on out there?”

“Nick bought me an early Christmas present. Come see it.”

I hung up my towel and reached for my bathrobe. “It’s not a snake, is it?”

“
Yes, Mom
,” he said, exasperated. “That’s exactly what it is. I brought home Cuddles.”

As I pulled on my bathrobe, something barked. Surely, Nick hadn’t bought my son a dog, had he? Flinging open the door, I was shocked to see a black and brown puppy scoot under the bed.

“Travis Marcus Morgan!”

Travis positioned himself between me and the bed. “Mom, I know what you said about getting a dog, but Nick bought him for me. He’s a gift, and you can’t just refuse a gift. You don’t want me being rude, do you?”

“Rude?” I was outraged. “It’s a puppy, Travis. A living, breathing puppy. I already told you I didn’t want a dog. That’s why I bought you the cat.”

He thrust his hands together and begged. “Please, Mom. I promise to take care of him. I’ll do everything. You won’t even know Yoda’s here.”

“That’s what you said about Felix, and do you know who feeds and changes the litter box every day? Me!”

“But this is a
dog
.” His voice was full of sacred awe at the word dog. “Grandpa Walter is always saying a boy needs a dog, and Yoda is the best.”

“Grandpa Walter wanted to give you a purebred yellow lab, not a mangy street dog.”

At that moment, the mangy, street dog in question peeked out from under the bed. His large brown eyes met mine, taking away some of my outrage. Like all puppies, he was adorable. One of his fangs was longer than the other, giving him a lopsided expression that bordered on silliness.

I couldn’t deny his cuteness, but I hardened my heart, because like I’d told my father-in-law, dogs were messy, smelly, and lots of work, not to mention expensive. Even a
free dog
needed visits to the vet, shots, and dog food.

Travis turned toward the bed, knelt, and patted his leg. “Come here, Yoda. Here, boy.” The dog’s pointed ears twitched, and he slowly crept toward Travis who showered him with hugs and praise. “Good boy, Yoda. That’s a good boy.”

Pleased with himself, the dog wiggled away and pounced on the designer handbag Bianca had given me for my birthday last year. Although the purse outweighed the puppy by several pounds, he shook it hard, causing all the contents to fly out. Makeup, receipts, a hairbrush, and several cough drops skittered across the wood floor.

“Stop!” I shouted.

Instantly, Yoda obeyed and dropped the purse. He fell to the floor and rolled onto his back in a submissive pose, staring up at me with big, innocent puppy eyes that held the power to melt away my anger. Although I wasn’t a dog person, I’d always thought Labrador retrievers were cute, and I guessed this dog was part Lab, part German Shepherd, part mutt, and one-hundred percent trouble.

“Ah,” Travis said, rubbing Yoda’s belly. “He’s sorry, and he won’t do that again. Will you, boy?” Yoda jumped up and licked Travis’s glasses. Travis fell to the floor, laughing and rolling around with the puppy.

I picked up my damaged purse. Bianca had paid a fortune for the handbag, and now it was ruined. This had been the exact reason why I’d refused to get a puppy in the first place. Keeping him would only mean more destruction.

What in the world had Nick been thinking, buying my son a dog?

The doorbell rang, and I marched down the stairs, expecting to find an apologetic Nick. Instead, Bianca stood on the porch holding two large bags of Chinese food. “Who’s ready for dinner?”

Nick

A
fter the long
day, I was exhausted. I bathed Gabby, gave her a bottle, and rocked her to sleep. In the nursery, above the dresser hung an ornate mirror engraved with the words, “I am a child of God.” Something about that statement chipped off a piece of my heart.
What about me? Was I a child of God?

The question troubled me as I wanted to believe in a benevolent creator who cared about me, but in the darkness, I wasn’t so sure.

Standing, I laid Gabby in the crib and gently patted her back. “Sleep tight, sweet pea.”

Downstairs, I found Hailey, curled up in the laundry room with her three new puppies, all of them sound asleep. Smiling, I snapped a picture with my phone. Maybe buying an entire litter of puppies was overkill, but the happiness on Hailey’s face during the ride home had made it all worthwhile.

Bending over, I scooped up my niece and carried her upstairs to tuck her into bed. I pulled the covers over her shoulders and gently kissed her forehead. “Sweet dreams, honey.”

Hailey turned over in her sleep. “Love you, Uncle Nick.”

My chest tightened. I hadn’t grown up saying
I love you
, but Ethan and Ivana had used the phrase liberally.

“I love you, too,” I repeated, feeling vulnerable and exposed. Love had never served me well. I must’ve loved my mother as a baby, but I had no idea if she’d returned my love. I loved my father, of course, and I assumed Jack loved me in his own indifferent way, but that love had never made me feel safe.

Love had consequences. Love hurt and could leave you weak and injured.

And love, after all, was the reason I couldn’t leave the girls with Doug and Caroline Kempner. Instinctively, I believed their frenzied family wouldn’t be a good fit for Hailey and Gabby.

My father thought I was acting ridiculous, wasting so much leave time, but I refused to be bullied, even by him.

Recently, one of my friends from college had adopted two little boys. He’d used an agency in Houston and had given me the name and number. After meeting with the Kempners, I’d called and spoken with a lawyer named Lucy Jenkins. Lucy had been very sympathetic and encouraged me to make an appointment. Today, I’d driven past the address to check it out.

From the outside, the business looked legitimate and professional. But could I really leave Hailey and Gabby with strangers who weren’t even related to them? And if I did, would I later regret it? Would my father care that his only grandchildren wouldn’t be raised by relatives? And how would that affect my relationship with the girls?

I wanted to do the right thing for my nieces, but what did that mean?

Back downstairs, I took the puppies outside to use the bathroom, changed their newspaper in the laundry room, started the washing machine, and loaded the dishwasher. Just as I finished cleaning the kitchen, the doorbell rang.

To my surprise, I found Anna standing on the front porch, glaring at me. “Your shirt is sopping wet.”

Confused as to why she was so upset about my shirt, I looked down and shrugged. “I guess it got soaked when I was bathing the baby.”

Her face filled with panic. “You didn’t leave Gabby in the bathtub by herself, did you?”

“Give me some credit,” I said, slightly offended. “I may not know what kind of cereal to buy, or how to braid Hailey’s hair, but I’d never leave a baby unattended in the bathtub.”

“Well, where is she?”

I studied Anna carefully. Why was she so mad? “Gabby’s sound asleep in her crib.”

Anna’s entire body relaxed, and she placed a hand over her heart. “Sorry. I have an awful fear of babies and drowning.”

I nodded. “Yeah, me, too. That’s why I would never leave her alone.”

Awkward silence followed, and then I asked Anna inside. She started to turn down my invitation, but sounds of the puppies barking from the laundry room interrupted her. The scowl on her face deepened. “You bought Hailey a puppy, too?”

Her contempt was obvious, and being the genius I was, I concluded she was mad about Travis’s puppy. “I take it you disapprove of Yoda?”

She squared her shoulders. “You bought my son a
dog
without my permission.” She said the word
dog
like one would say the word sewer or politician.

“Travis insisted you’d be okay with it,” I said, only half joking.

“He’s ten. Of course he said I’d be okay with it. What ten-year-old boy would ever refuse a puppy?”

Stepping back, I opened the door wider. “Come inside, Anna. I want to show you something.”

She planted herself firmly in place and folded her arms across her chest. “No, I can’t stay. I only came to express my frustration about the dog. You can’t give my son a dog, or anything else, without my permission. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, I understand, and I’m sorry. But please, come inside.”

Anna

Reluctantly, I stepped
over the threshold and followed Nick through the living room to the kitchen. The Blue Crab shared a similar floor plan, but the Petersons’ house was much larger and more recently built. High quality windows enhanced the spectacular view of the ocean, and a large wooden deck wrapped around the entire first floor.

In the kitchen, pots and pans dried on the counter while the dishwasher hummed quietly. A pile of laundry, neatly folded and stacked, sat on the table. I found the tidy scene comforting. Nick was somewhat of a neat freak; something I admired in a man.

He led me into the laundry room where three puppies similar to Yoda scrambled to the baby gate, vying for attention. “How many puppies did you buy?” I asked.

“All of them.”

“All of them? Are you serious?” The man was insane.

Removing his phone from his back pocket, he scrolled through his photos. “I thought you should know we didn’t buy the dogs from the pet store.”

“No?” His comment confused me because what did that have to do with anything?

“There was an elderly woman in the town where the car broke down.” He handed me his phone, and I stared at a picture of an extremely thin and wrinkled woman, sitting on the ground next to a shabby trailer. Four puppies surrounded her, including one I recognized as Yoda.

“I know they’re just mutts,” Nick said, leaning against the doorframe, “but I felt sorry for them. This woman had no money, and she was trying to earn a living by selling the puppies. I paid a fortune for them, but I couldn’t say no. And I’m pretty sure someone as sweet as you, Anna Morgan, would’ve done the same thing.”

I gave back his phone and stared down at the puppies. “I understand taking pity on her and the dogs, but if you wanted to help, why didn’t you just
give
her money? Why did you insist on buying the dogs?”

He shook his head. “Nobody wants to be a charity case.”

I understood that sentiment. Bianca had helped pay for beauty school, but I had returned the money as soon as I could. And each month, I gave my in-laws a check for rent, even though they’d offered the beach cottage free of charge.