The dog tilted his head, his jowls wobbling slightly as he studied her with soulful brown eyes, as if to say,No harm done, but maybe work on your aim. Seeming to sense herdistress, the giant creature lumbered over and rested his massive head on her lap. She buried her fingers in his soft fur, grateful for his steady warmth. His tail thumped against the porch floor, each wag more like a bat hitting a wall than a gentle tap.
“Hey there, big guy,” she murmured through the tears, her voice catching on the words. “You’re a real sweetheart, aren’t you?”
As if he understood, he lifted a paw and placed it gently on her knee, his expression so serious that a watery chuckle escaped her.
“I see you’ve met Governor Sam,” a voice drawled from behind her.
She glanced up to find Jack leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and muscles flexing slightly with the movement. She tried not to notice, but he had the type of presence that was hard to ignore.
“Governor Sam?” she repeated, glancing down at the dog, who nuzzled her hand as if saying,Yes, that’s me. Now keep petting.
Jack pushed off the doorframe and walked over, giving Sam’s ears a good scratch. He didn’t say anything about her tear-streaked face. Instead, he nodded toward the dog. “Lolly’s idea. Said he belongs to Sunrise, and the whole town looks after him.”
She sniffled, still stroking Sam’s ears. “But why do you call him ‘Governor’?”
A dimple appeared in Jack’s cheek. “She said he’s made more friends and kissed more babies than any politician she’d ever met. She started a write-in campaign for him to run for office and everything.”
A genuine laugh bubbled up, and Governor Sam’s tongue lolled out in a goofy grin, like he was proud of coaxing a smile out of her. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” Jack grinned. “He got three dozen votes in thelast election. Lolly swore he would’ve won if we’d printed proper campaign posters. He was doing well until they figured out he was a dog. But she let him keep the name anyway.”
Cora looked down at Sam, who returned her gaze with an expression of such dignified innocence it was almost comical. A snort-laugh escaped her—one of those deep, bubbling laughs that come out of nowhere, like a soda can suddenly bursting. But the laughter cracked something wide open and, suddenly, she was laughing and crying all at once. Governor Sam seized the moment and gave her face a swift, slobbery lick from chin to forehead.
“Ugh!” she spluttered, still laughing through the tears. “So that’s how he kisses babies?”
Jack chuckled, handing her a bandana from his back pocket. “Among other things. Are you all right?”
She dabbed at her face and took a deep breath, finally feeling some of the tightness in her chest ease. “I will be,” she said, surprised to realize it was true. “Thanks to Governor Sam here. He’s got my vote.”
Apparently satisfied with his efforts, Sam ambled over to the corner of the porch and flopped down, a string of drool threatening to connect him to the deck.
“Yeah, he’s one of a kind,” Jack said. “He won’t set a paw inside a house, but the whole town takes care of him. Water bowls on every porch, beds and ceiling fans installed just for him. His leftover campaign funds pay for food and treats, and Dr. Willa, the town vet, corners him every few weeks for check-ups and the occasional bath. He’s living the dream.”
She glanced from the contented dog back to Jack. “Must be nice having a whole community take care of you.”
Jack’s expression softened, something unspoken flickering across his face. “Yeah, it is.”
The porch swing creaked in the breeze, a sound so familiar it tugged at her heart. How many evenings had she sat righthere with Lolly, watching the fireflies dance as day faded into night?
“I miss her,” she whispered, the confession slipping out before she could catch it.
“I know. We all do.”
“I don’t know what to do, Jack,” she admitted, hating how uncertain she sounded. “I was supposed to come down, sell the place, and head back to New York. That was the plan. But now, with the lien ...” She trailed off, exhaling. “My apartment is four flights up with quirky plumbing and a fire escape that’s mostly used by pigeons. It’s loud and messy, but it’s mine.”
She tried to recall something about the apartment she’d left behind that made her heart ache. But at the moment, all she could picture was the gray light through her window and the sound of her neighbor’s blender at five a.m. She glanced around the porch. “I didn’t expect to get emotional about creaky floorboards and snickerdoodle cookies.”
He lifted a shoulder. “They’re good cookies.”
A muffled giggle from inside the café broke the moment. They turned to see Aggie with her ear pressed against the window, pulling back quickly when she realized she’d been caught.
Jack shook his head. “All three of them are as subtle as a brick through glass.”
Despite everything, Cora found herself laughing along with him. “Some things never change.”
“So,” he said, turning back to her with a grin. “You’ve got to save the café in the next thirty days. It looks like you’re going to need my help, after all.”
“It seems as if you might bring more trouble than help, though.”
