Cathy Thacker - The Long, Hot Texas Summer

Dismay quickly turned to trepidation. “All five of them?”

Justin nodded, figuring the task would take a good part of the morning to accomplish. “They need to be bathed before we put on their monthly flea and tick medicine.”

Lamar shoved a hand through his hair. “I don’t know if I’m going to be any good at that, either.”

Justin refused to let fear of failure get in the way, for either of them. “Do you know how to pet a dog?”

“Sure...”

Justin smiled and pressed on, “Do you know how to take a bath yourself?”

The boy scoffed. “Well, duh.”

“Then you’ve got all the skills you need.” Justin went into the mudroom off the kitchen and pointed to the shelves. “Grab the leashes, that stack of towels and the box of treats.” Justin picked up the rest of the supplies and stepped out onto the long deck that ran along the back of the lodge where the dogs were still waiting curiously.

One by one, Justin roped the leashes to the railing and then snapped the secured leashes to their collars. He asked Lamar to turn the water on and bring the hose up on the deck. Already sweating himself, Justin adjusted the handheld sprayer to the shower setting and handed it over to Lamar. “Let’s wet them all down first.”

While he did that, which also cooled the dogs off, Justin made sure the towels were well out of the way and opened up the shampoo and conditioner bottles. He handed one of each to Lamar, instructing, “Soap, rinse, condition and rinse again.”

The teen nodded, looking both serious and nervous, but Justin knew the kid would do fine once he actually got started. “Why don’t you start with Sleepy, since she’s the most patient?”

Lamar knelt down next to the dachshund–bassett hound mix. Sleepy lay on her side, lazy as ever and ready for a nap. Already starting to panic, Lamar looked at Justin. “How am I going to wash her?”

“Start with what you can reach.” Justin drizzled a line of shampoo down Roamer’s spine and began working it into his soaked coat. “She’ll get up.”

Lamar looked over at Justin and mimicked his actions. The teenager frowned at the dog’s fur. “It’s not lathering.”

“Did you use shampoo? Or conditioner?” Justin asked, belatedly figuring out what had happened. It was an easy mistake to make—the white plastic bottles all looked the same. Only the labels were different.

“Oh. Conditioner, I guess.”

“It’s okay. Just rinse it out and pour on some shampoo.”

Lamar seemed frazzled. It didn’t help matters when Woof, who was still waiting his turn, began to bark hysterically.

“It’s okay, Woof,” Justin said firmly. “Calm down.”

Reacting to the excited hound, Fetcher strained at her leash then took it between her teeth. Justin knew it wouldn’t take much to chew through it and reprimanded the Labrador–golden retriever mix. “Fetcher, drop!”

Assuming they were involved in a tug-of-war, Fetcher pulled all the harder on the woven fabric lead. Anxiously, Woof intensified his barking and howling. Professor—the poodle–black Lab mix who hated chaos of any kind—began to look for a way out. Any way out.

“Fetcher! Stop!” Justin warned, reaching past Roamer to comfort Professor.

Meanwhile, apparently hating the feel of the shampoo on his back, Roamer rolled around on the deck, trying unsuccessfully to rub the soap out of his coat.

Realizing it would have been better to hook up two hoses, Justin waited while Lamar rinsed the foam off Sleepy.

Justin handed the teenager the appropriate bottle with one hand; with the other he worked to pry the leash out of Fetcher’s teeth. “Condition next,” he instructed.

Lamar frowned, perplexed. “I already did. Before I shampooed, remember?”

Justin grimaced as Fetcher clamped down harder on the leash and tugged with all her might. Meanwhile, Woof continued making a racket.

Justin had to shout to be heard over the growing commotion. “Condition after you shampoo!”

Professor, deciding he’d had enough of the ruckus, began yanking against his leash, using all his weight to pull free. Justin leaped to put a stop to that. Which was, as it turned out, all the opportunity Roamer needed. One jerk of the German shepherd–border collie’s long elegant neck and he was out of his collar. Still covered with swirls of shampoo, Roamer left the dangling leash and collar behind, bounded over the backs of Woof and Sleepy and raced across the long veranda just as an unsuspecting Amanda rounded the corner.

* * *

ONE MOMENT, AMANDA was on her way to see what all the hubbub was about. The next, eighty-five pounds of wet black dog rammed her legs. The impact knocked her off her feet and sent her sprawling so hard onto the wooden floor of the deck that the wind was knocked from her lungs. Roamer splayed awkwardly over her, equally stunned by the collision. He whimpered and licked her face as if to make sure she was all right. Dimly, Amanda was aware the barking and howling had stopped. She blinked again and saw Justin hovering over her, his handsome face taut with concern. Then she noticed Lamar, who was apparently just as worried.

“Amanda!” Justin physically removed his still-confused dog who sat, suddenly compliant. “Are you okay?” he asked, kneeling down beside her.

Feeling a little better, but never comfortable as a damsel in distress, Amanda started to rise. Justin slid an arm around her waist and helped her into a sitting position. “I’m fine.” She looked over at the half-bathed dogs, realizing why there had been so much commotion. She made a face. “You were bathing the dogs all at once?”

“It’s what I usually do,” Justin admitted defensively.

Lamar edged away, shoulders slumped, mouth tight. “Except this time I screwed it up.”

Knowing the last thing the youth needed was another setback, Amanda shook her head and answered in the same tone her grandfather used when she needed bolstering, “No, you didn’t. No one did.” She paused to give the skeptical teen a long, level look. Then she smiled, letting both guys know she really was okay. “Dogs just get excited sometimes.”

His hands still cupping her shoulders, Justin shot her an appreciative look that warmed her almost as much as his tender, protective touch.

“Do you have a dog?” Lamar asked, coming closer.

Amanda let Justin help her all the way to her feet. Realizing belatedly how soggy her T-shirt was, she plucked it away from her chest. She smelled like wet dog—as did the guys. “No. I always wanted one, though.”

Lamar leaned down to pet the now-quiet circle of animals. He regarded her curiously, and the sense of near-familial intimacy between the three of them deepened. “Why didn’t you get one, then?”

Amanda was aware that Justin was listening intently. “None of the adults in my life wanted to take responsibility, so I knew if I got a pet, I’d be completely on my own. I guess I was worried I’d let him or her down.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Lamar protested.

It was good to know someone thought so. Unfortunately, Amanda knew better than anyone that she was better at short-term relationships, in general, than anything requiring a lifetime commitment. Only with her grandparents had she been able to forge something lasting. And that hadn’t happened until they had taken her in and put her on solid footing.

Lamar turned to Justin, not above pleading, “Maybe Amanda should help us finish giving the dogs a bath. Then we could do her a favor by helping her with the carpentry.”

Amanda didn’t want to cut into Justin’s time with Lamar. However, she did want to boost the teen’s confidence. And, given the mess the two guys had made of the doggie baths, it was clear they needed help getting back on track. “Okay.”