Running Home by T.A. Hardenbrook Read Free Book Online Page A

rest of the afternoon. I glanced back down at Waylon who was now flopped down on the forest floor. “Kommen,” I called. He shifted his eyes up toward my direction, and then quickly closed them again. “I’m not carrying you out of here, Buddy, let’s go,” I demanded, as I clipped a normal leash on his collar. So much for us looking professional today the lazy mutt strikes out again.
     
     
    The rest of the afternoon was spent entertaining the Mayor and his followers. Luckily , Waylon kept going drill after drill. Even when the treats ran out, he still managed to impress the small crowd. The entire time, I prayed he wouldn’t check out, because I knew it wouldn’t have ended well for my new career if I couldn’t keep this darn dog engaged in the activity he was purchased for. “You ready to head home, boy?” I asked the chocolate lab sprawled out in the back seat of my patrol car.
    Waylon didn’t even stir when I mentioned home normally that dog was bounding up and down at the thought of heading out. He was an easy roommate at my apartment over mom’s shop. Even using the doggy door I installed to let himself out when he needed to. I didn’t worry about him running off; he never strayed far away from his food bowl most of the time, anyway. If he wasn’t in the apartment, I would always find him lying out by the backdoor of the cafe, just waiting for my mom to toss him a tasty treat. This dog was the closest thing I had to a best friend now, and, in reality, that was all I needed. He didn’t complain or talk back. I knew he wouldn’t run away and break my heart. This dog was the best thing that had happened to me since graduation.
     
     
    Pulling up back to the café, I noticed there were several people still in the store part, and it was a little after five. Mom normally locked the doors a little before five, so she could get home and have dinner ready for dad, when he got home from the fields at a little after six.
    Opening the back door , I let Waylon slink out, and watched him stroll slowly over to the steps for our apartment. I laughed as he gradually lifted his body up the steps to the door; I’m betting his dinner won’t get touched until way later tonight, after all the snacks he got today. I walked over to the back door of the shop and headed in to see if mom needed any help getting the customers out the door. The smell of fresh baked apple pies was evident in the air as I quickly did a glance around the kitchen to see if she left one out for me to take upstairs. “Jackpot,” I exclaimed when I noticed a single pie neatly wrapped for my taking later. Nothing was better than mom’s fresh made pies; I’m pretty sure every woman in the county just stopped baking and picks up their goodies here at the shop.
    “Walker , my boy, would you grab that last pie off the counter please and take it out to Mr. Scott out front,” Mom said as she rushed into the room, franticly searching for something on one of the cooling racks. “Sure, Mom,” I replied with a sigh. Apparently, this delectable dish was not going to be enjoyed by myself tonight.
    “Mr. Scott, I believe this is yours,” I said , as I rounded the counter in the small shop. “Walker, when did you sneak in? Did you catch the Crimson Tide game last week? I swear boy, you should have been playing for them,” Mr. Scott chattered, as I held out the pie for him to take.
    “Football was fun , Mr. Scott, but I’m really happy being a part of the Sheriff’s Department.”
    “I know; just can’t believe you gave it up to stay here,” Mr. Scott muttered, as he took the pie out of my hands.
    “Now , you better not be giving my boy a hard time there, Dale,” Mom scolded, while she walked into to the room, carrying a cake shaped box.
    “Wouldn’t dream of it, Mrs. Mason,” he snickered. “Jayme, my dear, can you grab that box from Mrs. Mason for me?”
    I didn’t even notice the small woman standing to the side of Mr. Scott , as she