Healing Hearts (3 page)

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Grant was glad she had the removable kind of showerhead with a hose attached. It would certainly make their job easier. “Good. You remembered to cover his leg,” he said approvingly, looking at the plastic bag taped over the shaved spot where he’d sewn up the dog.

That she’d listened to him and had taken direction was a good sign they would work well together. Although it was a good thing he’d shown up when he did. If Sarah had managed to get the dog into the water-filled tub, no amount of plastic would have kept the stitches dry.

“First, you get him into the tub…” Reaching to the puppy hiding behind the toilet, Grant pulled him out by the scruff of his neck. “Come on, big boy, a little water’s not going to hurt you.” He settled him into the tub.

Sarah stood there amazed as Rocky just sat in the tub, his pink tongue licking Grant’s arm, his tail thumping on the old porcelain bottom. Her wriggling, writhing bundle of fur practically rolled over and played dead for the doctor. The nerve. It had to be a guy thing, she decided, as she watched him pull the hose from the hook.

“Then you turn the water on…”

The instant the whine of water came through the pipes, Rocky flew from the tub and skidded to a stop by Sarah’s legs. At least he hadn’t ducked behind the toilet again. She scooped him up and hugged him tight.

Letting her guard down, she smiled at Grant. She’d never met anyone like him. His apparent concern for her and Rocky left Sarah at odds with her perception of others. It also helped that his sheepish grin, as he leaned against the tub, made him appear more human, more approachable. “So about those drugs?”

Grant’s laughter joined hers as she set Rocky back into the tub. Two grown adults couldn’t bathe one twenty-pound pup. She’d had so little to laugh about over the years, to open up now felt strange, in a good way, but she didn’t dare dwell on it.

“Now listen here, you brute,” Sarah murmured, stroking the puppy’s head. “You’re going to get a bath whether you like it or not, so just cooperate a little.”

Her heart melted at the sight of Rocky’s sad, brown eyes, and she gave him a quick kiss on his nose. “Remember what I promised you.” She held the unhappy dog in the tub as the doctor wet him down, then lathered him with shampoo.”

“Okay, fella. This isn’t so bad now, is it?” Grant’s large fingers continued to gently massage the shampoo into Rocky’s hair.

Sarah watched, suddenly feeling a sense of discomfort. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his hands. What would it feel like to have him massage and comfort her? Choking on the thought, Sarah drew back. What was wrong with her? She didn’t need anyone else to feel secure. She had herself—and Rocky. That was enough.

Without warning, water and soapsuds hit her in the face. Her dog had decided to end his bath. Momentarily stunned, Sarah released her hold and Rocky shot out of the tub and skittered behind the toilet again.

“What do we do now?”

“We try again of course…in a minute.” Grant gave her another grin as water dripped down his cheek and soapsuds clung to the tip of his nose.

Sarah reached behind her, grabbed a towel from the rod and dried herself. “Here.”

After handing the faded blue material to him, she watched as he dabbed the moisture from his forehead, his face, the strong column of his neck. Her heart skittered a beat at the seemingly innocent, yet intimate gesture. She inhaled sharply. His tangy masculine scent, mingled with the sweet herbal essence of shampoo and the not- so-pleasant odor of wet dog fur assaulted her senses. An intense longing blindsided her as attraction sizzled in the air around him.

She wanted this man in her life, and that scared her to death. The last time she’d wanted anything this bad, her world had crashed down around her shoulders. She’d been a child then, now she was an adult. She wouldn’t let that happen again.

The bathroom closed in on her. Sarah looked wildly around. She had to leave, to break this feeling. “Could you finish up? I’ll get us some drinks.”

She escaped the confines of the bathroom and ran to a more neutral area.

Still puzzled at Sarah’s hasty departure, Grant and his newest friend emerged five minutes later. He’d finally managed to convince the dog that taking a bath was his only choice. Too bad Grant had to join him in the tub to prove his point. So much for his new shirt.

As he’d washed the dog, he’d tried to wash away the effect Sarah had on him. Her simple smile and her soft laughter when her defenses waivered sent intricate waves of desire through him. The feelings crashed over him, leaving him struggling to catch his breath, as they did now. Sarah’s shirt still clung to her curvy body. He accepted the glass of iced tea and drank it down in one smooth gulp. His thirst had nothing to do with the energy he’d expended washing the dog.

“Thanks for the drink. I’d better get going. Long day tomorrow.” Grant set his glass down on the table as a dead quiet sliced through the apartment.

He could have kicked himself for saying those three words, but he hadn’t meant them quite as they sounded. It would be a long day because he’d been kidding himself that he was just interested in the dog. But as his employee, he couldn’t—no, make that wouldn’t—do anything about it.

“Yes, a long day tomorrow,” Sarah spoke stiffly.

He sensed her complete withdrawal, even though she stood not more than three feet away. “Sarah, it’s not—I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right.”

“That’s okay, Dr. Morrison. I understand. See you tomorrow.”

Growing up with mostly women, Grant knew when it was time to make a hasty retreat, and now was one of them. As he strode out the door, he almost tripped over the crate and paper sack he’d left in the hallway. “Here. I almost forgot.”

“What’s that?” She eyed the package with suspicion.

“It’s something for Buster. Come here, boy. Look what I’ve got for you.” The clean dog scampered to him and sat down. Grant leaned down and stroked the soft fur.

“Rocky. His name’s Rocky and he doesn’t need anything.” Her defensiveness didn’t surprise him, but the fists at her sides and the haunting expression on her face did. What was wrong with a little gift?

“No, I suppose he doesn’t
need
it, but it would look great on him. Better than the temporary ones I gave you at the clinic.” Grant sighed and pulled out the royal blue collar and leash.

He should have known after her reaction to the bill this afternoon that she wouldn’t accept anything from him. “If you’re uncomfortable with my giving these to you, I can add them onto your tab. It doesn’t matter to me.”

But it did.

Gillian was waiting for him when he returned home. “What’s this I hear about a new employee?” She paced the floor in his study.

Grant followed her movements around the cramped space. Gillian’s agitation didn’t surprise him. Tired from the day’s events, he stretched his arms over his head and stifled a yawn. “Everyone’s been after me to take it easier. What’s wrong with getting more help?”

His sister paused by the desk. “I’m not against you getting more help, as long as that’s all it is, but in this case, I’m not sure.”

“You’re misjudging the whole situation.”

“Am I? I know you, Grant. But we’re talking about a woman this time, not a pet. You can’t just clean her up, give her a few shots and find a good home for her when you’re finished like you’ve done with the rest of your strays. She’s got feelings.”

“And I’ve got feelings, too. It’s who I am, whether it’s a person or pet that needs help.” Scooting his chair back, Grant stood and banged his open palms on the desk, ready to fight with anyone—even his twin sister—in order to help Sarah. “When you get back from LA, come meet her. You’ll understand.”

Chapter Three

Sarah awoke with a jolt as Rocky pressed his cold, wet nose against her face. Glancing at the clock, she groaned—two in the morning. “Go away, Rocky, I’m sleeping.” She turned and flopped the pillow over her head. Rocky circled the bed a few times before plopping down beside her with a big sigh. As he nuzzled his snout underneath her arm, a warm, cozy feeling erupted in her. Sarah reached out and stroked his soft fur. “I think I love you, Rocky”

She dozed back to sleep only to awaken minutes before the alarm sounded to the worst smell she’d ever encountered. A cross between rotten eggs and dirty diapers, the aroma assaulted her nostrils. Struggling to sit up because Rocky had his head lying across her chest, she managed to push him aside and get to her feet.

As she staggered across the room, she noticed Rocky had left a present for her. In the early morning light, a pile of brown stuff oozed into the carpet by the front door.

The alarm went OFF, its blaring beep startled her. She bounded toward the bed to turn it off and stepped on a wet spot on the carpet. “No, Rocky!” she moaned, slapping her forehead. “Dumb me, I didn’t take you out last night.”

Rocky stood, stretched, then jumped at her as she flung herself on the bed and reached to hit the OFF button. He nipped at her hair and pawed at her back, obviously enjoying whatever game he thought they were playing.

“Oh, you beast, you.” She turned over, grabbed him and clutched him to her chest. He started whining. Easing her grip, she ruffled the fur behind his ears as she remembered all the diapers she’d changed in home number three. “You’re not potty-trained, are you?” She lifted him into the air and bounced him like a baby. “Well, that’ll change. Mr. Baxter, my landlord, won’t like it if you ruin the carpet.”

She set him down, cleaned up the mess, and then took him for a quick walk. As she hurriedly dressed for her shift at the diner, she wished she’d listened to Grant’s advice and kept the kennel he’d offered. She should have known after the escapade with the bath that Rocky wasn’t going to be easy to handle, but she’d let her pride get in the way. Look where it had gotten her. She’d disappointed her new boss and now had wet, brown spots on her carpet.

Today, Rocky would be stuck in the tiny kitchen behind a make-shift gate while she was gone so he couldn’t cause any more trouble, and tonight he’d be in a kennel. What could one of those things cost anyway? She’d just add it to her already outrageous bill. She leaned down and kissed him good-bye. “Be a good boy, Rocky. I mean it.”

Eight hours later, Sarah pedaled like crazy to get to her apartment. She had to let Rocky out, change, and get to the clinic to start working off her debt. She was late.

It wasn’t her fault the other waitress, Mabel, had called in sick which left Sarah to do all the work at Greer’s Diner. And it certainly wasn’t her fault that the lunch rush lasted longer and stayed later than usual. She glanced at her watch—2:25. She’d never make it and she couldn’t call even if she had the number. She didn’t have a phone.

Barreling through the last intersection, Sarah narrowly missed a turning vehicle and skidded to a halt in the complex driveway. She locked up her precious bike, her only means of transportation, and started up the stairs.

On the second level, the resident busybody, Mrs. Maddox, stopped her. “Good afternoon, Sarah.” She planted her rotund body in Sarah’s path and she stopped short, barely stopping in time from plowing into the elderly woman.

“Hi, Mrs. Maddox. Going out? It’s a beautiful day.” Sarah fidgeted with a loose strand of hair, not wanting to continue the conversation, but not wanting to be rude either. Upstairs, she swore she heard Rocky scratch at the door, which was impossible. He was locked in the kitchen.

“No. Actually, I was waiting for you, my dear. I saw you ride up just now and practically get yourself killed. Why in my day a young woman didn’t…”

Sarah’s stomach clenched, thinking about the upcoming lecture. Mrs. Maddox was at least 80 and living in a time warp. Her downstairs neighbor didn’t believe in women working outside the home or living on their own, and wasn’t afraid to voice her opinion. Sarah didn’t want to think about the speech she’d get if the woman knew of her past.

“Times have changed.” She tried to slink by her.

“Yes, yes. So they tell me.” She tsked. “Now there was something else I meant to tell you. What was it?”

Sarah leaned against the dingy, white wall, knowing she’d be stuck until her neighbor’s memory came back. Everyone in the building knew how scatterbrained Mrs. Maddox was and tried to avoid her. Usually, Sarah was lucky, but today everything was going wrong.

Upstairs, Sarah could definitely hear Rocky’s whine. Her poor pet had been locked up to long and probably needed to go to the bathroom, if he hadn’t already.

“Oh, yes. Seems like a nice fellow. My Harry would have liked him. Why he took my garbage out last night. Came right down from your apartment and swept it out of my arms as he pointed to Justin Altmans’ skateboard lying in the hallway. I’m blind in the dark. Why I would’ve fallen down the stairs if your young man hadn’t come to my rescue.”

Sarah’s jaw dropped open. Her neighbor had to be talking about Grant. No one besides Lorraine, who lived two doors down from Sarah, had ever come to her apartment. Where was the lecture, the chastising about men coming to visit single women? “But he’s not my man, he’s just…” Just what? An interesting, kind man, and as far as she was concerned, unavailable. She swallowed. “…he’s just a friend.”

“Oh. What a pity. I suppose you’re off again. You young people always are. Can’t seem to stay in one place. Well, don’t let me stop you. Just make sure you bring your friend by for proper introductions next time he visits.”

“Sure.” Sarah doubted that would happen any time soon. Relieved, she brushed past her and started up the stairs.

“And as for your other friend, bring him down to visit soon, too. I always wanted a dog, but my poor Harry…”

Stunned, she nodded, wondering how her neighbor had found out about Rocky. Mrs. Maddox must have heard him downstairs in her apartment. Great. Obviously, Sarah’s idea hadn’t worked. If Rocky had whined, scratched and barked all day, then the whole building knew about him. Mr. Baxter was sure to visit. She hoped he liked dogs.

Dashing up the remaining stairs, Sarah was glad to finally be home. Home. Something she had little experience with, but after three months in Greer, it started to feel that way. It had to be Rocky. She threw open the door and entered. “Rocky, I’m home.”