Because You're Mine

“I was your man’s nanny once upon a time. His mama deeded over the old place for as long as I live.”

The woman must be older than Alanna thought. “There’s so much about the family I don’t know,” she said. “I thought Barry’s mother was dead. Now I’m finding she’s very much alive and most likely will be outraged he married me.”

“She’s been wanting a grandchild. I suspect she’ll be pleased once she gets over the shock.”

Alanna shook her head. “It’s not Barry’s child.” She found herself pouring out the story. Hattie listened with an impassive face. When Alanna was finished, she realized her cheeks were wet, and swiped at the tears. “Sorry.”

“Lass, you got troubles. Miss Patricia won’t take well to this situation.” Hattie hesitated. “And there’s darkness in that house. Scares me. You have anywhere else to go?”

Alanna shook her head. “Thomas’s reach is long. Only Barry can protect me.”

Hattie put down the basket and gripped Alanna’s hand hard enough to make her wince. “You listen to me, lass. Watch yourself. Things aren’t always what they seem. People aren’t always what they appear. If you sense danger, you come to me. Just run right out of that house and head for my cottage.”

Alanna smiled even though she could tell Hattie meant every word. “I don’t think anyone would be harming me,” she said. “Unless you’re talking about the banshee.”

The older woman snorted. “That banshee doesn’t worry me. It’s the flesh-and-blood folks who do the most damage.”

A low sound in the background began to escalate in volume.

“What’s that?” she asked, tipping her head to one side to listen. “A dog?” The whine intensified when she rose and approached a line of flowering shrubs. “Here, boy,” she said.

“Prince won’t come out,” Hattie said. “He’s scared of humans, ever since . . .”

“Ever since what?” Alanna asked, glancing back in time to see Hattie snap her mouth shut.

“Never you mind. It’s not important.” She nodded toward the bushes. “The dog’s a stray and fears humans.”

Alanna crouched in the soil and held out her hand. “Come here, boy,” she said softly. She’d never met an animal she couldn’t charm. When the dog didn’t respond, she thrust her hand into her pockets, searching for something to offer him to eat. They were empty. She turned back to Hattie. “Do you have any food?”

The woman nodded and reached for a battered red cooler just off the quilt. She lifted out a sandwich and handed it to Alanna. “Won’t do any good though.”

Alanna unwrapped the turkey sandwich and broke off a small piece of meat. The bread wasn’t good for dogs. She went back to the shrub and held it out. “Here, boy, come on now. I won’t hurt you.” She placed the bit of turkey on the ground so Prince could easily grab it if he came out from the bushes, then she settled down to wait.

The seconds stretched to minutes as she called gently for the dog. She was about to give up when she saw the leaves begin to rustle and a black nose poked out. “Good boy,” she said in a soft voice. “Come out to me.”

The branches parted and the dog’s head came out, and she smiled. “You’re an Irish Setter.” One foster family she’d lived with bred setters. She had a favorite once and cried for days when he was sold. “Here you go. You can have it.”

The emaciated dog crept close on his belly, then gently lifted the morsel from the ground. Alanna knew better than to try to touch him. She broke off another piece and laid it on the ground in front of him. He gobbled that up too. She continued until he’d devoured the entire piece of turkey except for one bite.

She left that on her palm and extended it. His dark, sad eyes broke her heart. When he edged slightly closer and nuzzled the bite from her palm, she gently laid her other hand on his head and stroked his ears. Those ears went back in alarm, but she spoke soothingly to him, and he crouched lower on his belly.

She ran her hands down his back and flank. “You’re so skinny, Prince. I’m going to fatten you up. Good boy, such a good boy.” She smiled when she saw his tail begin to gently wag. It was barely a movement, but she saw it. “No one will be hurting you with me here, lad.” She stroked and talked while he lay quivering.

Hattie rose behind her and approached with a bag of chips in her hand. “Poor dog. He can have these too.”

At the sound of her voice, Prince yelped and ran for the bushes. Alanna called to him, but he stayed in the bushes. Still, it was a start. “I’ll start bringing him scraps after meals until I can be getting him some dog food.”

Hattie’s dark eyes shifted toward the house, then back. “Just don’t let anyone in that house know you’re feeding him. He’ll come up missing.”