Not Since You (13 page)

Carrie opened her eyes to see her hero stepping over Mike, who lay curled on the glass-strewn floor with his hands between his legs. Ellie stood over him, dripping foam from her jaws. Zack fell to his knees beside her; he put his strong arms around her and lifted her up to cradle her against his chest. In that moment, everything was better. No matter what had happened, Carrie knew, she'd be okay.

"I'm so sorry, Carrie," he said. "I wish I'd gotten here sooner. When I saw Mike's car in the drive, and the door off its hinges, I thought… I'm just glad I got here before he could do any more. Are you all right?"

"I'm okay. Just a little stunned." She pressed her face into his chest. I
shouldn't be doing this,
she thought.
He probably hates me for what I did, telling Samantha the truth.
And I deserve it.
She inhaled the warm scent of him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
This may be the last time I ever get to hold him.

My hero. My Zack.

He lifted her up in his arms and stood. Several more officers streamed in through the broken front door. "Take him in, will ya?" he told them. "I'm taking her to the hospital to get her checked out."

"What about the dog, Captain?"

"She can ride with us," he said. Ellie took one final snap at Mike. He screamed again, curling into a tighter ball. Then she wagged her tail and grinned a doggie-grin at Carrie.

"Wuff!" she said and sat down, holding up her paw as if to say,
I've got it under control. You kids go along now. Everything's fine.

Carrie snorted a laugh. Zack peered down at her and grinned. "Or not," he said. "She can go to the station and keep an eye on the assailant."

Footsteps suddenly pounded across the porch and through the door. Samantha skidded to a stop in the doorway. "Dad! Carrie! Is everything all right?" She rushed inside, crunching over the glass on the floor. "Dad—I heard you call for backup on the police scanner and I knew you were here. What happened? Is Carrie okay?"

"It's all right," Zack said. "I'm taking her to the hospital to get checked out. You can come with us."

Carrie realized he still cradled her in his arms, a ridiculous place for her to be. She smiled at Samantha, gesturing at Zack with her chin. The girl giggled and rolled her eyes.

"You can put me down, Zack," Carrie said.

"Not on your life. I don't care if I have to carry you everywhere,
Carrie-da
, I'm not putting you down until you promise me you'll stay in Rhode Island and forget about Texas." He bent his head low and brushed a soft, sweet kiss over her lips. "I love you. Be my wife."

Samantha reached for Carrie's hand. "Be my mom."

In that moment, cradled in Zack's arms with his daughter's hand clenched in hers, Carrie made her decision. She smiled at her new family. "I don't need to go to the hospital. Just…take me home."

             
Five months later…

"I now pronounce you man and wife," the minister said, and Zack swooped down to claim Carrie's lips with his own. He lifted her up and spun her around, much to the delight of their guests—a few of Zack's family members, a cadre of police officers, and friends of Carrie's who'd flown up from Texas. They applauded as Carrie beamed down into Zack's handsome face.

              "We did it!" she told him. "We're married!"

              "It's about time." He let her slide down his body in a sensual, can't-wait-until-later way, then tucked her arm under his and led her down the aisle of the church, into the sunshine and bright autumn air.

Samantha walked behind them, beautiful in her rust-red, slinky bridesmaid's dress. So much like Sarah, and yet—different.
My daughter, now
, Carrie thought. Kind of like a friend, somewhat like a sister—but even more. She followed them, looking joyous and stunningly beautiful, so much like Sarah that Carrie would have cried if she weren't so happy. She watched Samantha's boyfriend move to her side and grasp her arm in a way that would have once made Zack bristle. But Carrie had persuaded him that Samantha was capable of taking care of herself. In fact, she pointed out, he had instilled enough pride and self-assurance in her to support five women. Even better, because of her experience, she'd decided that after she graduated from college, she wanted to be an advocate for victims of rape. Carrie had no doubt that Samantha's future clients would prosper under her guidance and help.

              They stopped on the lawn and turned to face their guests. The first one to shake Carrie's hand was her new boss, the editor of the local paper. "Don't have too much fun on your honeymoon," Daniella said, shaking her hand. "O'Hare's trial is coming up in a couple of weeks, and I want my best beat writer there."

              "Wouldn't miss it for the world." Because of Carrie's in-depth reporting, women had been coming forward to tell of their own experiences with Mike, from former co-eds accusing him of date rape to secretaries telling stories of harassment and sexual advances.

              The day passed quickly—as long-anticipated days often do—and before she knew it, Carrie and Zack were climbing into the pickup for the drive to the airport. And their honeymoon.

              She leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes.

              "No sleeping, Mrs. Mahoney. At least not until we get on the plane." Zack plucked her hand up and squeezed it in his. "I can't carry you and the luggage, too."

              "Weenie," she chided. "I thought I'd married a tough guy."

              "You did. But I need to save my strength. For tonight." His voice grew silky. "I saw that the honeymoon suite has a king-sized bed. I thought we'd try out every inch of it."

              She grinned. "I already get enough inches, Zack. Yours."

              He beamed with masculine conceit.

              She laughed and turned her head to watch the passing scenery. Things had changed during the years. She didn't even recognize most of what they passed. The old farm, with the stone wall and the incredible view of the Newport Bridge, was the same. But the houses lining the road were new. And the businesses. Especially the strip malls. She realized they were close to the kennel where Nana had kept Ellie.

              A pang sluiced through her. She turned to look at Zack. "You don't suppose anyone will find Ellie while we're away?"

              "Maybe. But I've talked to every shelter in the state, Carrie. If she's found, she'll be okay. They'll take care of her until we get back." He put his hand on her knee.

              "It's been five months, Zack. Ever since that day she bit Mike." She rubbed the bright gold band shining on his ring finger.
My husband.
She smiled, despite her sadness, and lifted his hand to her lips. "We should have taken Ellie home with us instead of letting one of your officers lock her in a bedroom. I knew better. I knew she could get out—and with the glass on the front door broken, there really wasn't anything to keep her in once she opened that bedroom door."

              "I've never known a dog who could open a doorknob before," Zack said.

              "I've never known a dog who could talk."

              He gave her a sidelong grin, clearly not believing her. Carrie gave his shoulder a gentle whack.

              "She could! Not well, but… I know. It sounds crazy. But sometimes, she almost sounded like Nana." Carrie sighed. "I guess I was just missing my grandmother, and Ellie was my last living link to her. That, and she had the same eyes."

              "The same…eyes." He snorted. "
Ooookay
, Carrie-da. Whatever you say."

              Carrie stuck her tongue out at him; he laughed again and reached out, pulling her to sit on the bench seat beside him. She rested her head on his shoulder. "I still wonder why her lawyer had no idea she existed. I mean,
someone
had to take her to the kennel."

              "Maybe Nana did, the day she went skydiving."

              "Maybe. But why? She was jumping out of an airfield in Connecticut, Zack. Less than forty minutes away. And she certainly didn't expect…"
To die.
She shook her head. "The other thing is—how did the woman from the kennel know my cell number?"

              "Emergency contact number. She couldn't reach Nana, so she called you." Zack shrugged.

              "What about the lawyer?"

              "Maybe your grandmother didn't consider Ellie an asset."

              "No doubt. Who would?"
Me
, Carrie realized. "You know, Zack, if it wasn't for Ellie, you and I probably would never have talked to each other. I would have come home and then gone back to Texas."

              Zack sobered. "You're right. And if she hadn't gone to your grandmother's grave that night, then I wouldn't have had gone to your house. Where, you'll remember, I kissed you."

              "And I pushed you out on your ass." Carrie giggled, then reached up to kiss his cheek. Then she settled her head back onto his shoulder. "And—if Ellie hadn't swallowed my phone, Sam wouldn't have gotten the idea to come to my house and make me come over for zucchini—"

              "Okay. Ellie was an asset." Zack laughed.

              "Even though she practically wiped out my entire life savings. Not that there was much to begin with, but…" She smiled.
Not much
was an overstatement. "I have a feeling that if we hadn't managed to talk to one another, Ellie would have continued to destroy the neighborhood until I had no money left and
had
to stay."

              "Lucky for us."

              Carrie nodded and looked out the window. She recognized where she was now. Heavenly Doggie Kennels was in the next strip mall…except…

              It wasn't there.

              Instead of the white brick building that had been there before, there stood a decrepit old building with
Keep Out
signs posted on it.             

She sat up. "Zack! Stop the truck."

He pulled to the curb. "What's wrong?"

Carrie looked around, frantic. There had to be an explanation. Except—there was the drugstore across the street. She got out of the truck and hurried to the place where she could have sworn Dog Lady had stood, holding Ellie on her knotted pink leash.
Yes! There. Right there.
Carrie had a weird sense of disorientation, a memory of a place that wasn't a place. She stood where she'd stood, and everything was different, yet the same.

Zack came to stand beside her. "You look like you've seen a ghost. What's wrong? Are you okay? Are you going to be sick? What's the matter?" He put a protective hand on the small of her back.

She turned to look up at him. "This is…this is where Heavenly Doggie Kennels was."

He shook his head. "Carrie-da, I make it my business to know all the kennels in my jurisdiction. I like to make sure they're up to code, that they're safe for the animals…"

A hero, even to his canine charges. Carrie nodded.
Thank God.
She'd made a mistake. "So you know where it is."

"No, Carrie-da. I—there
is
no Heavenly Doggie Kennel."

She had the strange sensation of the ground beneath her feet tilting and swaying like the deck of a ship's in a storm.
No, wait a minute. Impossible.

Her husband reached out, grasped her and pulled her close. She leaned into him, clinging so she didn't collapse. "But I saw it, Zack! I saw the sign with the pink poodle on it. The dog had
wings
, for Pete's sake, and it was floating on a cloud. I remember thinking how ludicrous it was."

They stood there, staring at the building. Zack shook his head. "Well…Heavenly Doggie and their sign aren’t there now," he said, finally.

And then, Carrie saw something that made her forget about the sign and the kennel. Perched on the top of the knee-high grass as if placed there, she saw Ellie's collar, complete with bone-shaped identity tag. "Zack. Look!" She grabbed it, lifting it up, not sure if she felt hopeful, happy or…something else. "Ellie," she murmured, overwhelmed with a sharp sense of loss.

And yet, she realized, she'd gained. So much. She turned to her husband, standing there with a look on his face that told her
no matter what, I'm here for you
. Not alone. Not anymore. "It's Ellie's. Look!"

He reached for it, took it, looked at the tag; a frown crossed his brow. "Carrie…it says…" He blinked, shook his head, read it again. "When did you buy this tag?"

"The second day after I got her. The day she wiped out my savings and most of Nana's, too. I remember how sorry I was that I'd gotten it, because everyone could track me down and get money out of me."

"But…" He handed it out to her. "How did you know that…well…
here
."

Carrie took the collar from him and read the tag. "Carrie Kennedy Mahoney. Narragansett, Rhode Island." Her heart did a funny bump in her chest. "But I didn't have it engraved like this," she said. "I just had my name. Kennedy. And my cell phone number." She turned the bone over—and what she saw made her gasp. "Zack!"

He moved to her side, and together, they read and reread the tag. "With love and joy, Nana. P.S. Name your next daughter Eleanor, after me."

Finally, when the words had grown too blurry to read because of the tears streaming down her cheeks, Carrie stopped reading the tag and looked up at her husband. "Zack?"

He shook his head. Then bent to kiss her. "Some things,
Carrie-da
, aren't meant to be questioned. They're just meant to be."

"But…" she started, but her husband silenced her with his kiss. And she realized, as her love for him made her heart swell and her pulse race, he was right. She broke away. "Let's go start working on that daughter Nana promised us."

Zack grinned. Together they walked, arms around one another's waists, just like they had when they were kids. To the truck. To their honeymoon. To the rest of their lives.

THE END