The Summer's End Page 12

Taylor let his palm slide against his pelt of hair as he considered this. “Sure, but if it’ll be a while, I need to check on my dog. I left him out by the car.”

“Your dog?”

“Yeah. Come on. I’ll introduce you to Thor.”

Harper followed Taylor out the front door and across the gravel drive to where a black pickup truck sat parked in the deep shade of the giant oak tree. Rounding the fender, she spied a large black dog sitting in the shade. He lifted his head at their approach and, seeing Taylor, stood and looked at his master adoringly.

Taylor reached down to deliver several strong pats on the dog’s broad head. Turning, he waved Harper closer.

Harper moved tentatively forward, intimidated by the immense black dog with his deep chest and floppy ears. The dog turned to look at her as she drew near, eyeing her with curiosity.

“Is it a Great Dane?”

“Mostly. He’s a rescue dog. Great Dane and part Lab. He looks more Great Dane, but he’s all Lab at heart. Loves being in the water. That dog is one swimming machine.”

She noticed that the dog was not tied down. “He doesn’t need a leash?”

“No.”

Harper was impressed. She wasn’t familiar with dogs, never having had one growing up. No pets whatsoever. Not even a parakeet, though she’d wept and begged for years for one as a child. Her mother simply wouldn’t tolerate any “foul, disease-ridden animal” to mess up her meticulously decorated apartment.

“He’s awfully big,” she said feebly.

“He is that. Thor’s a big guy, but he’s gentle.”

Harper glanced at the man standing beside her and wondered if that description didn’t fit him, as well.

“Go ahead, you can pet him.”

There was no point trying to explain to a man like Taylor how someone could be afraid of even a seemingly gentle animal as large as Thor. The only animals she was accustomed to growing up were the horses at Greenfields Park. They terrified her. She’d had bad experiences with them.

Harper was compelled as a child to ride the big animals that towered over her, pawed the earth with their big hooves, and snorted when she timidly approached dressed in her riding outfit and carrying a crop. Her mother, of course, was a superb rider. When Harper was six and balked at getting on a horse, Georgiana told her to “stop being so weak willed and get on that bloody horse.” Harper was more afraid of her mother than the horse and complied. After all, learning to ride was considered mandatory for a James. Yet, even after years of lessons, whenever she mounted, Harper never lost the feeling that she would throw up. The horse instinctively knew that Harper was afraid. Once she was on its back, the horse would turn its head to look at her, then promptly fart and disregard her commands. Harper couldn’t imagine any horse anywhere daring to ignore a command given by her mother.

Perhaps, she thought, staring into the big brown eyes of Thor, that was what frightened her so much about Taylor’s dog. He was as big as a horse.

“Come on. He won’t bite.” Taylor gently took her wrist, encircling it with his thumb and forefinger. “You’re a little thing, aren’t you?”

She wasn’t so afraid with his hand over hers as he guided it toward the dog’s enormous block head. She felt the smooth pelt of Thor’s shiny black fur under her fingertips. To her relief, Thor took it all in stride. She had the sense he was accustomed to tolerating fools.

Taylor released her wrist, and she withdrew her hand swiftly and took a step back.

“Could I trouble you to guide me to a place I can fill his water dish?”

She led the way around the house to the back porch, Thor trotting happily behind his master. She helped Taylor find the water spigot and fill the dog’s bowl. Thor lapped up the water noisily, drinking his fill.

“Okay, boy, settle,” Taylor commanded with a discreet hand signal.

Thor trotted to a shady corner of the porch and, after circling a few times, lay down, resting his head on his giant paws.

“Is he always so obedient?”

Taylor nodded. “I trained him myself. He’s the smartest dog I’ve ever known. He wants to do his job. If he makes a mistake, I swear it hurts his pride. Gotta love that about him. He’ll stay there until I tell him to get up. Or, unless he feels I’m in danger.”

“He doesn’t think I’m going to hurt you, does he?” She eyed the enormous dog. “I don’t want to upset Cujo.”

Taylor laughed shortly and shook his head. “I hardly think he sees you as a threat.”

Another awkward silence fell between them as they waited for Carson to appear. Taylor put his hands on his hips and took a long look at the property. She followed his gaze, seeing Sea Breeze as she imagined he or any other stranger would see the historic island house for the first time.

Sea Breeze showed her best side to the water. The back of the house was lined by three tiers of long porches from one side to the other that overlooked the water. At the top, the left side of the porch was covered by a sleek black-and-white awning that sheltered several glossy black wicker chairs. Here the women of the house congregated in the morning for coffee, and in the evenings for tea and gossip. Below, a second porch surrounded the swimming pool. The third was more a wide step to the grounds that sloped down to the Cove and the wooden dock that stretched over the racing water.

“It’s quite a place,” Taylor said, the awe in his voice informing her that he appreciated the house’s unique qualities. Taylor pointed to the dock. “That where Carson’s dolphin came to visit?”

“Delphine, yes.”

“Carson told me about her. Sad story.” He turned to look at the house again. “Do you live here?”

She shook her head. “No. New York.”

“What part of New York are you from?”

“Manhattan.” She refrained from telling him that she still lived with her mother. “And you?”

“Juno Beach.”

“But you said your family is here? You’re visiting them?”

“That’s right. McClellanville’s not too far from here. Thought I’d swing by and see Carson while I was in town. We became friendly at the Dolphin Research Center. She isn’t the type to remain a stranger,” he added with a short laugh.

“No.” Harper wished she had that talent. Carson had it, as did Mamaw. Harper was more reserved, like her Granny James. But Harper’s stomach fizzed a bit at what Taylor had just said about himself and Carson. So perhaps they hadn’t been romantically involved, after all?

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