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“Now I’m going to let Mars come out and say hi to you, okay, honey?”
She nodded.
“What are you going to do?”
“Pet him?”
“Is he on a leash?”
She looked down at the dog. “No.”
“To you, out there, he’s a strange dog, so what are you going to do?”
“Be boring as a fence-pole!” she cried with glee.
“Excellent!”
“Now.” He held his hand up in front of her face. “Stay.”
She giggled as he walked back, then turned and gestured to the dog.
“Go on, Mars. Go say hi.”
The girl’s mother put her hands to her mouth.
The dog trotted toward her and Ethan could see the girl stiffen. She lifted her hands up and took a few steps backward. Mars’ ears perked up and he increased his pace until he was at her side.
“Mom!” cried the girl.
“Boring,” called Ethan. “Be a fence-pole.”
With visible effort, the little girl put her arms down stiffly at her side. Mars’ tail went down. He sniffed her shirt a bit, then turned away and began walking back to Ethan.
“Great job!” said Ethan, patting the dog.
The girl ran back to her mother.
“Great job, everyone,” he said.
“More, more,” cried the children.
*
If it’s not too late.
Carrie sat between Dixie and Gun, letting the puppies scramble over her, wondering how Belinda would feel about a roommate, thinking about how quickly life could change.
Her sitting with Trish had been incredible. She’d done photos of Jessica, too, which had turned out beautifully. And Aunt Pansy, well, the woman had truly looked like the goddess she was. And since then, Carrie had booked a family gathering and a class reunion .
I’m here.
Dixie nudged Carrie’s arm with her muzzle, her brown eyes liquid and beseeching.
“You don’t chase cats, do you?” she murmured.
Forever Yours Photography would be okay. It turned out that one of Calloway’s lackeys had sent the email firing her from the festival. Karen Stanhope made certain Carrie understood that any and all photos were welcome and would be paid for in full.
And Forever Yours Intimate, instead of being a source of shame, had turned her into something of a local celebrity.
And Ethan had almost kissed her. Right in front of everyone.
She looked over to where he was finishing his talk with the children, his big body stooped to their level, his face animated and open. He was a natural. All this time he’d been resisting getting involved and look what he’d been missing.
Finally, the crowd started to drift away. He walked back to her, his dark face shining. She got to her feet.
“You’re a star,” she said, her heart huge in her chest.
“Nah.” He looked over at Mars and Ashur, who were lying on the grass, panting. “Those are the stars.”
“You almost kissed me,” she whispered. “With everyone watching.”
“I almost did.” He took her hand. “Carrie, I’m a stubborn, stubborn man. I needed someone to correct me, force me to be a better man. You’ve done that.”
“Out there with the kids?” she said with a laugh. “You did that all by yourself. And you were amazing, too.”
“Only because of you,” he insisted. “You saw me. The real me. It’s your gift. You see people, not just as they want to be seen, but as they really are.”
Her throat closed.
“A photographer’s greatest compliment,” she managed to say.
A rough throat-clearing alerted them both to the presence of Nate Jackson, standing in the shade of the truck.
“Grandfather.” She stepped away from Ethan, then caught herself. She wasn’t going to pretend anymore. She put her arm around Ethan’s waist. “What can we do for you?”
“Not to interrupt,” he said, looking like he wanted to fall through the earth. His color was high but so was his chin and his voice steady. “Congratulations on the dog thing, Ethan. Everyone’s calling you some kind of dog whisperer.”
“Uh, thanks,” said Ethan.
“I’m here to talk to you, Carrie,” Nate continued. “Privately.”
