Hope In Every Raindrop (8 page)

At the end of the third day, Katie hung the empty silver pail on a nail near the barn entrance. She took her time as she walked towards Belle’s pen. She stopped at the first pen and traced her hand over the wooden name plates that hung from the gate. Saint, Solomon, Samson, Rev, and Angel. All the names of Biscuit’s puppies. They were likely sleeping under Doc’s house at the moment, or perhaps chasing Biscuit around. It seemed odd that Kyle let the puppies roam around during the day, but he was the expert, not her.

Cotton, Peanut, and Apple were the next three. Katie referred to them as the “crop dogs,” because she assumed they were all named after crops in South Carolina.

There was an empty pen next to Cotton and then there was Belle, towards the middle of the barn.

Kyle and the dogs would likely be back soon and they’d find their food and water bowls filled and waiting.

Katie sat down and pulled out her notebook, which she had jammed between one of the slats in front of Belle’s pen. Katie leaned her back against the smooth wood and pulled her knees to her chest to use as a writing desk. She heard Belle get up, pad over to the gate, and lie down just behind Katie. Only a one-inch piece of timber separated them. It had become a sort of ritual for Katie and Belle over the past couple days.

“Hey, girl,” Katie said, turning towards Belle. She slid her hand through the space just above the toe board and rested it on Belle’s side. Her hand rose and fell with each of Belle’s breaths.

“You have any wonderful dreams while I was out there sweeping floors, scrubbing feed bowls, and re-bedding stalls?” Belle looked up and let out an audible breath through her nose. Katie moved her fingers back and forth behind the dog’s soft ears.

“I know what you mean. Every day can’t be full of dreams.”

Katie turned back around and jotted down a few notes. The sun was low and she could see the individual rays of light pour into the barn. Little specks of hay and dust floated amongst the light. It would make a beautiful cover, if she ever actually finished the book.

“I just don’t get it,” Katie started again, turning the conversation to the topic she’d been dwelling on most lately. “What does he have against me being here? He feeds me all these lines about, ‘you can’t have understanding without experience.’ But how am I supposed to get any experience when he takes all the dogs with him and leaves me here alone?”

Katie looked down at Belle. “You know what I mean.”

She looked around the barn for a few minutes in silence, thinking about the whole thing. “What would you do if you were me?” Belle groaned as she shifted her weight atop the hay. “I’m sorry, girl. You have bigger problems, huh? I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”

Katie leaned her head back against one of the horizontal boards and closed her eyes. She was exhausted. Having forgotten her train of thought, she set her notepad and pencil down, and let her mind wander. It didn’t take more than a few minutes for her to fall asleep on the barn floor.

Chapter 11

“Miss Price,” Kyle said. “Miss Price.”

Katie opened her eyes to find Kyle squatting a few feet away from her.

“Miss Price,” he said again.

She leaned to the side to grab her notebook and quickly wiped what felt like a few drops of drool from her lip.

Oh God, please tell me he did not see that.

“I’m sorry. I must have fallen asleep.”

“Dinner is ready,” he said. He stood and reached out his hand.

She leaned forward and took it, then paused at the feel of his warm fingers. She could feel his calluses on the sides of her hands and the strength in his grip as he pulled her to her feet. Her weight shifted forward slightly as she stood, and she was suddenly very close to him.

Why is he even being nice to me? Is this him being nice to me? I don’t know why I even care.

Dinner was already on the table when they walked into the house. Katie looked around for Doc, but saw no sign of him.

“Doc out again tonight?”

“One of Mr. Willis’ cows had a problem birthing,” Kyle said.

“Is there anything he doesn’t do?”

Kyle looked back at her from the kitchen, and thought for a minute. “Not really.” He poured two glasses of lemonade and sat down across from her at the table.

Kyle cut his chicken into small rectangular pieces and mixed it with his rice and peas. Katie just watched.

He used his fork to scoop up a bit of rice and then stabbed a piece of chicken on the end. Katie just watched.

Halfway through chewing his first bite, he looked up at Katie staring at him. He swallowed and said, “Is something wrong?”

“I’m just shocked you aren’t leaving me another note. I’ve gotten accustomed to spending the days and nights by myself. And apparently you’re talking to me now, too?”

Katie was a little shocked at herself when she heard the words leave her mouth. But they were true.

Kyle didn’t say a word. He just finished chewing.

“I’m sorry,” Katie said. “It was just a long day.” She ran both of her hands through her hair, feeling all the loose strands that had come undone from her ponytail. She looked down at her food. She was so frustrated she didn’t want to eat, but she knew if she didn’t she’d end up back at the cottage starving until breakfast.

Kyle set his fork on his plate and took a sip of his lemonade. “We haven’t had a lot of guests since Hannah passed away.”

She looked up. Kyle rested his forearms against the edge of the table as he spoke. “Hannah?” Katie said. “Doc accidentally called me that my first day here. I thought he’d just forgotten my name. Who is she?”

“She was Doc’s wife.”

“That’s who Doc built the cottage for…” Katie said.

Kyle nodded.

Katie took a bite of her chicken. It was grilled and marinated in what tasted like Italian dressing. It was good.

“What was she like?”

Kyle smiled.

So he smiles, too.

“You would have liked her.”

“How so?”

“She wasn’t from around here.”

“Where was she from?”

“Doc really doesn’t like to talk about her all that much.”

Of course he doesn’t. Which I’m guessing means you’re done talking about her. Figures.

Katie moved what was left of the chicken around on her plate. She had so many questions running through her mind now. She wanted answers about Hannah, but she could see that was a dead end, at least for tonight.

She tried another question. “What about your family? I mean, I know Doc is your uncle. But, what about your parents?”

Kyle put his fork and knife on his plate and walked it to the kitchen. “I’ll be outside when you’re done.”

So, we can’t talk about Hannah. You won’t talk about your parents. And you’ll talk about the dogs, but just not with me. Brilliant plan, Katie. Write a book about a bunch of dogs and the least talkative men on the planet.

Kyle walked Katie home in silence, keeping a few paces ahead of her the entire way.

She thought about trying to start another conversation, but she thought better of it. Her last question had hit a sore spot she could tell, and he obviously needed some space. So, when they arrived at the cottage Katie didn’t even say goodnight. She just walked right past him and into the house. The solid white door closed behind her.

* * *

Kyle looked down at King, who was standing next to him. He shined the flashlight out in front of them a bit.

“That went better than last night, don’t you think?”

King cocked his head sideways.

He sighed. “You’re right. That didn’t go well at all.”

Chapter 12

The next morning, Katie woke up without any more patience. Either Kyle would let her spend time with him while he trained the dogs and stop dodging her questions, or she would leave. 

And maybe that’s the point of it all. Maybe he wants it that way,
she thought. How had she even made it five whole days in this place?

She didn't care. Today was Thursday, and her agent would be calling on Friday for an update. She hadn’t spent most of the week doing chores in some barn for nothing. She needed her story, and the most she had so far were a myriad of descriptions about the few times she had seen the dogs—most of those about Belle or King.

Katie never got the chance to vent her frustration that morning, however. As soon as she reached the kitchen, it was clear that something wasn’t right. Unlike previous mornings, there was no note stuffed in the door.

Katie looked around outside, under the mat, beneath the steps, even twenty or so feet in each direction from the house, thinking the wind may have somehow blown it away, though the trees were as calm as ever. There was no wind. In fact there was no sound at all. She didn't know what it was exactly, but something definitely felt wrong.

How is it that the one thing I’ve come to hate each morning is also the one thing I’ve counted on?

Without hesitation, she took off for the barn. 

As she walked, she couldn't stop her mind from guessing what could be wrong.

Is one of the dogs hurt?

She walked faster.

Has something happened to Doc?

She began to jog.

Is Kyle okay?

She broke into a run.

Moments later, Katie reached the barn nearly out of breath. She looked into the barn, but Kyle wasn’t there. A second later, she heard the familiar squeak of the screen door opening and she saw Kyle exiting Doc’s house. For a moment she smiled, mostly in relief at the realization that he was fine. Maybe she had finally earned his trust and there weren’t going to be any more stupid chores.

Her smile quickly faded. 

His demeanor seemed as collected as always, but when he looked at her she noticed the calm in his eyes was gone. He didn't say a single word, but kept walking past her towards the barn.

And then she saw his hands.

He was carrying one of the steel toolboxes that held medical supplies for the dogs—the same ones she’d cleaned out earlier this week. But what alarmed her were the red stains that streaked down each forearm. What alarmed her was the blood.

Katie quickly scanned the empty lot near the house, where Doc parked his truck. It wasn’t there.
Figures.
Before she knew it, her legs were moving as she followed Kyle into the barn.

"Kyle," she called after him.

He didn’t stop walking, but yelled over his shoulder. “Not now, Miss Price.”

Katie jogged after him anyway.

He turned abruptly to face her. She almost ran right into him. The look in his eyes was like a heavy weight pressing down on her.

“Kyle, what’s wrong?”

As much as he may not have wanted her there, she could tell from the look in his eye that he needed her help. “I don’t have time to explain. But if you are going to stay, you need to do exactly as I say. Understood?”

Katie didn't say a word, just nodded and followed Kyle to the other end of the barn, where Belle lay dying.

Chapter 13

For what it was worth, Katie tried to listen to Kyle. She tried to follow his detailed instructions, each one crafted as if today her note was simply verbal, not written. But from the moment she saw Belle, she froze. 

The dog lay in the corner of the stall near the same recessed hole that Katie had seen her in for the past few days. Only this time, Belle looked different. She lay on her side, breathing hard. White foam had formed around her lips. She tried to lift her head off the dirt floor to look towards Katie, but Kyle gently pushed it back down.

"Calm, girl. Calm."

His voice broke her trance and Katie knelt next to Kyle. "What's wrong with her?"

Kyle didn't respond. "There's another black medical bag on top of the bench, by the tools," he said, motioning to the other end of the barn. She knew exactly where it was, since she was the one who’d put it there.

Katie stood immediately, but before she could turn she saw something lying just a few feet from Belle. There were three small, dark objects curled up in the hay. Motionless. She took a step forward and suddenly realized what they were. Puppies.

She had never seen puppies so small in her entire life. Curled up that way, they could easily fit in one of her hands.

"Are they..." Katie started, but Kyle cut her off.

"The bag. Now."

Katie came running back with the bag seconds later. Kyle was still on his hands and knees. He had pulled on a pair of latex gloves and felt softly up and down Belle’s side.

Kyle immediately unlatched the bag as Katie set it down. He handed her a bottle of antiseptic surgical hand wash. “Wash both hands and put these on,” he said, passing her a pair of clear latex gloves.

By the time she’d finished, he had pulled out what looked like a small turkey baster and several towels. He looked at her intently and spoke slow and clear. “Belle was not able to clean the first three pups. Wipe them down gently with a little bit of water and the towels. Check their noses and mouths for any excess placenta. If they’re showing any difficulty breathing, use the small suction tube to clear the airways.”

Katie nodded her head in understanding, but she didn’t move.

“Do it now.”

It took less than two minutes to check the pups. They were cleaned and appeared to be breathing normally, every now and then making small subtle movements in the hay. Katie breathed a sigh of relief. But as she turned back to Kyle, she knew there were still problems with Belle.

Kyle had lifted Belle’s tail and was applying some type of clear gel-like substance.

Katie knelt beside him, leaving the puppies to wriggle in the hay several feet from her. She looked down at Belle and stroked the patch of tan fur above her eyes.

“It’s okay, Belle. Your puppies are okay. You’re going to be okay.”

But as Katie ran her hand several more times over Belle’s soft fur, she realized something was very wrong. Belle wasn’t panting anymore.