“Horton!”
“Perfect!”
Eli nodded and focused on the road. The rain was coming down hard, and the twisty route to Middleburg was challenging enough to navigate on a clear day.
“You’re doing me a huge favor by driving us. I owe you.”
“You do, actually. I’m keeping a tally.”
The dogs settled into a slumbering knot on the blanket in the back of the car, and by the time Eli pulled up to the elegant gate on an unmarked driveway they were snoring contentedly.
“This place is...” Eli trailed off as he peered into the darkness.
“Perfection,” Cora said. “I can tell even in the dark. Can you reach the keypad?” Eli leaned out his window and punched the five-digit code Hugh had given Cora into a small keypad hidden in a climbing rosebush.
The huge old trees at the end of the driveway had spotlights at their bases so that the branches were illuminated, hinting at the magic that lay ahead. The metal gate opened quickly and smoothly, a nod to Hugh’s tech background amid the countrified setting.
The farther they went down the long driveway the more intricate the lit trees became. Each was carpeted in white fairy lights so tiny that the glow looked like a veil of stars, with long strands of shimmer hanging down intermittently like willow branches. It was hard to tell the actual tree from the sparkly illusion.
“If this is just the driveway, what is the house going to look like?” Eli mused.
The illuminated trees continued for a quarter mile, until they passed under a wisteria-choked brick archway in the middle of an ivy-covered wall. The vintage look didn’t match up with the pillared McMansion Cora envisioned Hugh Brannon inhabiting. Once past the wall, Cora realized that her assessment of him didn’t take his paradigm-shifting creativity into account.
The driveway opened up to a vast rolling field, as misty and melancholy as a Brontë moor. The house sat anchored in the fog, lit by strategically placed spotlights, a delirious mix-up of styles, with a wood-shingled, dormered barn in the center straddled by a castle-like windowed brick turret on one end and a narrow New England saltbox addition on the other. It was a huge calico cat of a house that couldn’t decide if it was country estate elegant or artistically quirky.
“Honey, I’m home,” Eli said quietly, in awe of their surroundings.
“Now I’m nervous,” Cora whispered.
“About what? You already know he likes you.”
“No, what I’m doing is wrong. I’m going to get busted. He’s going to figure it out and hate me for what I’m doing. This is insane.” She was babbling.
“Cora, stop. Don’t question yourself. Even though you won’t tell me the whole story, I think I know you well enough to know that you’re doing right by these dogs. It’s okay.”
She nodded and got out of the car. Blade and Hunter waited quietly for Cora to open the hatchback. She grasped their mismatched hand-me-down leashes and took a deep breath.
“Cora Bellamy, is that you?” Cora saw a dark figure striding toward the car. Hugh Brannon looked like central casting’s idea of landed gentry.
“It’s me, Mr. Brannon! Nice to see you again. Thank you so much for helping out.”
He didn’t answer her and instead addressed the dogs. “Lookat these beauties! Hello, boys, why hello, you handsome dirty dogs.” Cora was surprised to see them wiggle their tucked hind ends, as if they recognized a kindred spirit in the man before them. He petted them gently.
“Mr. Brannon, this is my canine chauffeur, Eli Crawford.”
Hugh Brannon looked up at Eli, nodded dismissively, and went back to petting the dogs.
“What are their names, Cora?” Hugh knelt beside the dogs, and they nuzzled him, leaving flecks of dirt on his loose white button-down shirt.
“The one on your left is Horton and the other is Baxter.” She paused. “From now on.”
Hugh finally turned to look at Cora and nodded seriously. “I understand. Why don’t you all come in for a moment?” The invitation sounded like a dismissal, as if making it clear that they wouldn’t be at the Brannon estate for longer than a minute.
They followed him up the stone walkway and into the barn section of the house. The foyer had a low-beamed ceiling and was obviously part of the original structure. The walls were exposed brick and crowded with antique paintings of animals, while the floor was an explosion of brightly colored mosaic tile assembled to look like a scrappy stars quilt. The effect was high-end but comfortable country chic.
“Would you like to meet Benjamin?” Hugh asked Cora, as if Eli wasn’t even in the room.
“Of course!” Cora replied, readying herself for the appropriate response to either a human or animal “Benjamin.”
