He headed for the kitchen without saying anything else, those deep lines of worry etching a V across his forehead once more. Still reeling, Kelsey squatted to the eye level of the Doberman and let him lick the back of her hand from the other side of the kennel door.
“How you doing this morning, Green-Beta-One?” she said quietly enough that Kurt wouldn’t overhear. “Yeah, it doesn’t do much for me either. With that sweet face, those old, faded scars, and those wizened-beyond-your-years gray hairs, you’re definitely a Lucky to me.”
* * *
It was on the tip of Kurt’s tongue, in hopes of lightening the mood, to say the fluffy-tailed three-year-old Akita he and Kelsey were working with reminded him of his mother. Maybe that was because the temperamental pup had an undeniable swagger, or maybe it was because the dog made it clear she only enjoyed being around males, not females. In any case, Kurt held the comment back. Bringing up his mother, and all her eccentricities, wasn’t what he wanted to do.
Two minutes later, when he heard a vehicle pulling into the circular driveway and looked out the nearest window to spy his grandfather’s emerald-green decade-old F-150 pickup, he was particularly thankful he hadn’t. There were two people in the cab: the first, his sinewy grandfather; the other, his curvy, vivacious mother.
“Ever notice how when things get off to the wrong start, it’s difficult to get back on track?” That came out before he knew he was going to say it.
Kelsey looked directly at him for the first time since they started working with the dogs twenty-five minutes ago. Her eyebrows knotted into little peaks. She’d noticed the truck too. “Protesters?”
“Worse,” he said, dragging a hand through his hair. “We could kick them back to the street and off the property. It’s my family.”
“Oh.” Still holding the Akita’s leash in one hand, Kelsey smoothed the front of her indigo-blue T-shirt. This one read You can’t buy love, but you can rescue it. She then pulled out the elastic band that had been holding her hair in a messy knot and finger combed through it. Kurt usually wasn’t one to notice hair, but hers was thick and wavy and an intoxicating honey blond. The few times he’d seen it down and loose, he’d been overwhelmed by the urge to lose his hands in it while he busied his mouth with that smooth skin of hers.
As he watched her primp, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. She wants to make a good impression.
She got the Akita back in her crate confidently and unhooked the leash. It was Kelsey’s first time doing the whole process with the dog without asking anything from Kurt except a bit of guidance.
“Nice job with her.”
“Thanks.” She joined him at the window as his mother stepped down out of the truck. Kelsey’s jaw dropped. “Your sister’s so beautiful.”
Sister. Kurt wasn’t surprised by this. Whenever he and his mother were together, people who looked close enough to notice their resemblance assumed they were brother and sister. Others assumed they were a couple. Sara Crawford had sixteen years on him, but few would guess it was more than five or six.
Nothing short of typical, his mother was dressed in a flowing white shirt with a deep V in front and cutoff jean shorts with a belt complementing the western boots that drew attention to her sculpted legs.
Kurt cleared his throat, but the necessary clarification eluded him. Oh well. Kelsey would figure it out soon enough.
As soon as he opened the front door, his mother let out a coo. “Kurtis Crawford, you didn’t tell us you were working in a damn mansion. Look at this place.” She sprung up the steps and caught him in a bear hug.
He returned it, if a bit half-heartedly, wondering if his mother would ever remember that, like his grandfather, he enjoyed his personal space. Pulling away, he met his grandfather’s gaze. William offered a slight nod, and Kurt thought the word he mumbled was son.
“Oh my,” Sara said, spying Kelsey, who was hanging back a few feet. Reminding him once more of the Akita, his mother clicked her tongue. “You didn’t tell us you have company.”
“Actually, I did, if you remember,” Kurt said, motioning in Kelsey’s direction. “Kelsey, this is my grandfather, Colonel William Crawford, and my mother, Sara, also a Crawford. Guys, this is Kelsey Sutton. She works for the shelter that will be taking in these dogs once they’re rehabbed.”
“It’s great to meet you.” Kelsey’s smile seemed sincere.
“You too, you sweet thing. And aren’t you a brave one.” Sara wasted no time drawing Kelsey into a hug.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Kelsey said as they separated. “The dogs are all a lot more docile than you might think.”
Sara flashed the grin that had won her best smile in high school and had been commented on ever since. “I meant working in such close quarters with my son. If he doesn’t try your patience at least a fraction of what he did mine when he was growing up, you can call yourself lucky. His doctor said his ADHD was off the charts.”
Seriously? She’s going there in less than sixty seconds? Kurt shoved his hands in his back pockets, doing his best to shrug it off. Unlike the rest of their small family, his mother had always been one to tell everything just like she saw it. Nana had said a dozen times that she was a creature of God who’d been born without a filter.
Kelsey’s expression conveyed more camaraderie toward him than Kurt would have expected after the disagreement they’d had. “Well, if he does, I’ll try to keep in mind he’s the hardest working person I’ve met. And in all my years working with dogs, I’ve never seen anyone with his skills.”
Kurt looked sharply toward his grandfather, who was reaching out to shake Kelsey’s hand. One of his grandfather’s
