Rescue Me (13 page)

Callie glanced at the bathroom door then back at Mary Hannah. “But Declan can't lift much.”

“Henry can, and they'll have to work together.” If—please, God—his father would let him into his life again. “I have a dog in mind at the Second Chance Ranch. I'll be helping with the basic training commands. Here's a photo of the dog, a Cairn Terrier named Barkley.”

Callie studied the flyer and the picture, her brow furrowed. She looked skeptical but still engaged. “You really think this will magically fix my family?”

“Not magic. And not some guaranteed fix.” The family would be repaired through their work, one step at a time, through their own efforts. Mary Hannah settled for stating, “This is just a way to make a start.”

“A start?” Callie's eyes watered again, her fist crumpling around the flyer. “We've been at this for so long, I'm ready to end things with him, not
start
.”

“I don't believe that.”

“How can you be so sure?” Her voice wobbled.

Mary Hannah nodded toward Callie's hand around the flyer. “You got your nails done to visit your husband.”

Her hand unfurled, and Callie tucked her French-manicured hands under her thighs. But her eyes glowed with love and a wary hopefulness. “That probably seems like a vain waste of money when we have such an uncertain future with Declan's medical issues.”

Mary Hannah smoothed the flyer on the bedside table. “It seems like a woman who hasn't given up on her marriage yet.”

Hopefully Declan knew how lucky he was to have Callie in his life. That kind of devotion was rare, something she herself and Ted hadn't shared. Mary Hannah didn't blame him for walking away, after all she'd screwed up so badly. Declan's situation was an accident that occurred during honorable service. But she couldn't help wondering what it would have been like if she'd had unconditional love.

What
she
would have been like.

*   *   *

AFTER A WEEK
with Holly, AJ felt like he was hitting his head against the wall even with boatloads of help from Mary Hannah and Jim, reputed to be the dog whisperer of volunteers. This was an exercise in futility, frustrating the hell out of him rather than settling him the way his boss seemed to want.

Of course part of that could have something to do with Mary Hannah. She came by every evening after supper, always keeping her distance while showing him different training techniques and ways to gain Holly's trust. He wasn't so sure that was possible.

He dropped his bag of carry-out food on the table and sat while Holly watched his every move from her dog bed across the room. “Want some food, girl? Come over this way and we can share. What do you say?”

She didn't move other than one slow blink. She'd been spayed that morning and wore the cone of shame to keep her from licking her stitches. The vet had said it was all right for her to eat a little food tonight if she wanted. She looked too loopy to him to do much of anything.

“Yeah, that's what I thought.” He pulled out the cheeseburger and french fries, then flattened the bag into a makeshift place mat for his dinner. Holly's nose twitched, but she still didn't budge.

Who would have thought he would welcome a little food thieving from his dog.
His
dog? For now anyway.

He bit into his juicy burger and chased it down with a fry and a gulp of tea. And yeah, that spot by the window offered him the perfect view of Second Chance Ranch Rescue, lit by motion-sensor lights and two tall lampposts. He watched Mary Hannah's sedan travel down the long driveway toward the barn.

The family that had lived here before—a mother and son—hadn't been fans of the animals and apparently had used this spot to spy on the operation. When their efforts to shut the place down failed, they'd sold their home and moved to Kentucky to live near the mother's sister.

Lacey McDaniel had purchased the property to expand the fences for her rescue. Wyatt had suggested renting her cabin for now, but at some point she planned to transform the cabin into office space and a clinic.

It had been a damn long time since AJ had made plans other than getting through the next undercover assignment. Each time he slipped deeper into the job and further from himself.

Hungry as hell after a long day in which he'd used his lunch break to check on Holly at the vet, he bit into the burger again, grease oozing out and down his hand. He swiped his fingers along a napkin, his eyes tracking Mary Hannah stepping out of her car. The icy branches between their properties glistened, the moonlight throwing a fat beam along the bridge over the frozen stream. Mary Hannah walked that route each night, and he found himself anticipating this part of the day more than he should.

He wasn't some Peeping Tom or stalker, but he couldn't help but notice when she came home from work unless he blacked out the window. Her red coat flashed like a beacon, her steps neat and efficient as she unloaded her work bag and a sack of groceries. She climbed the stairs to her apartment, but he knew she would come over to check on Holly's progress as she'd done every night this week.

His pulse ramped at the thought. Yeah, he wanted her all right, but her past addiction, his past falling for an addict and the fact that she was tied to his cousin . . . it was just too complicated.

Or so logic said.

Attraction never gave a damn about logic—especially when he knew from his night with “Francesca” just how much heat steamed between them. Beyond that, he was surprised to find her kind, and rather funny, too.

Exhaling hard, he tossed down his burger and leaned back in his chair. He picked up a french fry and held it out for Holly. She didn't move—no surprise.

He waggled the fry in her direction. “I wish you could talk to me and let me know what you want.”

Still, she didn't do anything except stare back at him. Granted her eyes weren't as whale-looking anymore. Probably because of the painkillers making her mellow. Mary Hannah swore they'd made progress, but he wasn't seeing it. He wouldn't have minded if Holly slept on the bed or sofa, but she refused to get on the furniture. Period. Which would probably make her forever family happy.

He didn't want to crate her after seeing how much of her life she'd spent chained and likely caged. Mary Hannah had suggested leaving an open crate tucked in a corner where Holly could retreat if she felt overwhelmed. For the first two days, she'd slept there. The next couple of days, he'd found her on the dog bed near the sofa. Last night, she'd snuck into his room and slept on the rug by his bed. Sort of like the progress he and Mary Hannah had been making until she revealed her secret.

But he didn't want to think about that now. He was focused on Holly, right? And damn, but that progress was so slow. Maybe by next year Holly would let him pet her.

Except he wasn't keeping her that long. Right? But where the hell was he supposed to send this sad, broken dog?

Holly stretched up her back end, her mouth opening in a big doggie yawn. Mary Hannah had told him that yawns could be a sign of stress. Great. Even fries stressed her out. His sympathy for the dog mixed with frustration.

The boxer stood and took a wary step off her bed, staggering a little from the meds, but she was moving toward him of her own free will. AJ held still. Totally. He knew from experience if he so much as twitched, she would bolt back to the bed or out the doggie door to cower behind a bush to do her business before running back inside.

Would she take the food?

God, he wished Mary Hannah was here. She knew so much more about this dog whisperer stuff.

Holly stood upright and took another stumbling step forward. AJ held his breath. Was she actually coming for the fry? Mary Hannah had told him to be patient. And how damn crazy that his hand was trembling.

“Hey, Holly,” he said softly, “do you want a fry? You can have the rest of my burger, too, if you'll come over here.”

She tipped her head to the side and took another step, then another, but not toward him. A log fell in the fireplace, snapping and popping sparks. Holly flinched, halting for a second before creeping forward again. She inched her way to the sofa, stopping beside the coffee table cluttered with magazines, his iPad and the TV remote.

“Do you want to get on the furniture? That's cool by me.” Still, he kept the fry in his hand, just in case she changed her mind.

She tapped the coffee table with her paw.

He frowned. “Do you want to shred a magazine? Or for me to bring the food there?”

Carefully, he stood, carrying the container of fries. Holly's muscles bunched as she ducked her head. He stopped at the other end of the coffee table and placed the fries there.

“See, girl? All for you.” He backed away, giving her the space she needed, sensing they were on the edge of discovering something, coming to some kind of understanding. Maybe the painkillers had taken away some of her inhibitions.

She thumped the table again, knocking aside the magazines until her paw landed on the remote control. And stayed. Her intent was clear. The dog wanted the remote.

AJ laughed. “Seriously? You want the one thing in the house that is a hundred percent mine?”

He nudged it toward her.

She flinched down again.

He tapped it closer.

“Come on, girl. I thought you wanted this. Chew the damn thing to bits if you want. I'll just get a new one. No big deal.”

Her head tipped again inside the cone, and she plunked down onto her butt, watching him, then swiveling her face to the television, then back to him, then the TV again, as if waiting for something to happen.

Waiting for him to turn on the flat screen? Doubtful, but easy enough to test for the hell of it. He dropped into his recliner, turned on the television and started channel-surfing.

Holly relaxed back on the floor, resting her head on her outstretched paws. Her ears up and cranking forward inside the plastic cone like radar dishes pointed toward the screen.

“You like TV?” he asked, still half certain he must be mistaken, but the proof was there in front of him. A relaxed Holly for the first time since she'd arrived. He'd watched TV before, but had he just been too keyed up to notice her reaction? He'd been so focused on training her. “Maybe we do have something in common after all. Mary Hannah's going to be so proud of us for figuring this out.”

Holly's nubby little tail wagged.

A surge of victory pumped through him. He was getting hyped to think about sharing the success with a woman he swore he couldn't pursue. A woman he also shouldn't pursue since his career hung on the success of training this dog.

Still, he found himself reaching for the phone to tell Mary Hannah that Holly was a big fan of
Jeopardy!

Winning!

—HOLLY

N
OW THAT THE
holidays and New Year's had passed, Mary Hannah couldn't deny her competitive spirit was ramping into high gear, which sent her need to organize into overdrive. She sat on the barn floor, plastic bins lined up in front of her. She pulled the freshly washed “adopt me” vests from the laundry basket and sorted them by size.

Volunteers filled the space, clumping in groups, some working with the animals and others focused on tasks for the Valentine Mutt Makeover competition. Even the dogs that weren't competing could still attend and be shown. Longtime volunteer Debbie brushed a collie while Lacey printed out new forms. Sierra propped her feet on a footstool and untangled leashes. The echoes of barking and the grooming dryer filled the wide-open space.

Sure, she was overcompensating for the fact she was nervous, and not only about the competition. But also about how it was bringing her and AJ closer. She could still hear the triumph in his voice when he'd called to tell her that Holly was a fan of
Jeopardy!
She's struggled not to laugh, because truly it was so endearing. Seeing that new side to the brooding cop definitely flipped her world. And he kept right on upending her preconceived notions with glimpses of his protective nature and patience.

“Lacey . . .” Mary Hannah pointed to her paisley tote. “If you look under my bag, I brought an accordion folder that has been labeled for adoption applications, fund-raising brochures and animal-care handouts.”

Debbie set aside the dog brush and pushed to her feet. “I'll bring it over to you. I need to stretch my legs anyway before they fall asleep.”

Lacey glanced up from the computer, swiping a wrist over her forehead. “It's clear who keeps this place organized, and it's not me.”

Mary Hannah folded an extra-large vest neatly. “We all have our roles here, and mine just happens to be making sure all food donations are arranged by expiration date so no bag goes bad.”

Laughing, Ghita, a volunteer from a local vet clinic, hid her face behind the camera, documenting the day for Facebook. “Wanna come sort my cabinets?”

“For a small fee donated to Second Chance Ranch.” A blast of chilly air hit Mary Hannah on the back, and she glanced over her shoulder to find . . . “Dahlia?”

Lacey pushed her chair back from the corner desk. “Dahlia, are you scoping out the competition?”

The über-chic shelter director strode deeper into the barn over to the office area. “As long as one of us wins, I'm happy, because if you take home the prize, you can take in more animals and I know I'm your very favorite shelter director to work with, Lacey McDaniel.”

“That you are.” Lacey hooked arms with her. “Come see how the two pug sisters you sent here are doing. They both had their eye surgery for the ingrown eyelashes and look fantastic now—”

“Mom”—Sierra passed over a fistful of untangled leashes—“do you mind if I turn up the heat? It's freezing in here.”

Dahlia took the leashes from her and draped them over the hooks. “That's the first time I've heard a pregnant woman complain of being cold. It's usually the other way around. Right, Ghita?”

“Sweetie”—Ghita lowered the camera, her shirt shifting to reveal the tattoo with all her grandchildren's names—“you forget that not all of us are in our twenties. When I hit menopause, I never knew when the next hot flash would hit. It's best to keep things on the cooler side.”

Debbie resumed brushing the collie again. “I call hot flashes ‘my own personal summers.'”

“Isn't that the truth?” Ghita set aside the camera by the computer. “I was in the grocery-store freezer section, reached in for a Christmas turkey and oh Lord, that blast of cold air felt so good I just stood there, camped out so long the manager stopped by to ask if I needed help.”

Mary Hannah snapped a lid on the container for the extra-large vests. “Lacey's a little young for menopause.”

And the conversation was clearly making Lacey uncomfortable.

Ghita shook her head. “Plenty of women start in their midforties.”

Lacey went paler.

Mary Hannah shot to her feet. “We can debate menopause ages all day long, but I know one thing for sure.”

Lacey swallowed hard. “What's that?”

She struggled for something, any distraction, and found that as always her thoughts gravitated to AJ. “The guys are in the garage making some new agility apparatus for the competition.”

Ghita grabbed her jacket. “Well then, we need to shuffle our workspace. A woman's never too old to check out the magnificent sight of fine men playing with power tools and oozing testosterone.”

*   *   *

AJ GUIDED THE
power saw along the PVC pipe, right over the lines marked and measured. Beyond helping the rescue and the competition, he could work out the frustration over seeing Mary Hannah. Daily.

Tempted. Daily.

Man-cave time was definitely in order today, complete with the scent of sweat, motor oil and power tools in use. All this “getting in touch with his feelings” was damn exhausting. Apparently he wasn't the only one who felt this way.

Mike reviewed the instructions for the bar jump while Nathan assembled some kind of nylon tunnel. Gramps was sitting by the workbench. He was there for the weekend, but the retired general was in one of his nonverbal, Alzheimer's moods today. Still, he seemed to enjoy just watching, with Trooper and Holly asleep at his feet.

AJ set the last of the PVC onto the worktable by Mike. “Thanks for the help building these, although I'm not sure we're ever going to get Holly through that tunnel.”

“Happy to help. Even happier to get outside,” Mike said. “Don't get me wrong. This rescue is great. Trooper is the best. But that's a lot of people in one house.”

Nathan looked up from hooking together the nylon sections. “You're not kidding.”

Mike turned over the instructions. “Could you pass the hammer?”

“Sure.” AJ unhooked the hammer from the pegboard. “Are you ready for the whole fatherhood gig?”

“Yeah, I think I am.” He held the hammer, staring at the tool with his brow furrowed. “My own father wasn't much of a role model to go by, but I like to think I picked up a lot from Colonel McDaniel.”

Nathan went still, the tunnel rolling away from him. “Dad was a good guy. You would have liked him, AJ.”

“I'm sorry I never got to meet him,” he said, and now that he thought about it, he realized this was Colonel McDaniel's man cave. No wonder Mike held that hammer with a kind of reverence. The tools held an echo of the person.

The garage was organized. Different from the more chaotic approach that reigned in the house and rescue. No doubt something had been moved around in here, but there was still an order and calm about the place that he knew somehow had been set into motion a long time ago.

Mike's thumb worked along the hammer's handle absently. “What about you? Ever think of settling down?”

Yeah, and that hadn't gone well for him. “I just got my first dog. One step at a time.”

Mike raised an eyebrow. “So you're keeping Holly?”

“For now,” he said noncommittally. Coming to this town was about streamlining life. Not making it more complicated.

Or so he'd planned.

The General stretched his arms overhead, old joints popping. “Time has a way of slipping by, boys. Don't sow those wild oats for too long.” His blue eyes glinted with a hint of mischief chasing away the glazed look. “Well, unless they're really good oats, in which case, always remember to wrap your rascal.”

Nathan shook his head, muttering, “He can't remember my name, but he always remembers to tell me about condoms.”

Gramps barked with laughter. Apparently his hearing was just fine. “Priorities, son. Priorities.” He tipped his head toward the feminine voices drifting from the office. “Oh, my wife must be . . . back?”

Nathan's face fell, and Mike's hand went to rest on the teenager's shoulder.

AJ grabbed one of the wooden base posts and a piece of sandpaper. He knelt beside the General, his hand falling to scratch Holly's ears. “Sir, would you mind helping me sand this?”

The older man's face lit up. “Yes, yes . . .”

His voice trailed off, but he took the piece of plywood in his gnarled hands, rubbing the sandpaper along in smooth repetitive motions as the board rested on his legs. The dust swept off the side of the board with each sanding stroke.

And while AJ didn't consider himself to be a mystical guy, he couldn't escape the sense that there was something about this place. The ranch. The animals. The people. Mary Hannah and Holly.

He'd left one family and found another.

And that scared him. A lot. But not enough to make him leave.

*   *   *

THE NEW PLACE
where I lived was like nirvana. So much so it was difficult to trust it could be real. I was in a cabin, but it was nothing like the meth-house cabin. AJ's place smelled like fragrant wood burning in the fireplace instead of burning drugs.

It smelled clean.

Mary Hannah said it was messy, but I figured her standards were little too high. AJ put his dishes in the dishwasher. His washed clothes stayed in laundry hampers, and the dirties were in a nice pile in the corner of his room. Sure, he tossed around magazines and he made his bed by tossing the covers over the pillows rather than doing something Mary Hannah called “hospital corners.”

Hospital corners sounded overrated to me. I liked how AJ tossed a blanket on the floor beside his bed just for me.

And the food.

Holy son of a mutt, the food here was good. He fed me grain-free kibble so my skin didn't itch anymore. AJ even dropped treats in my bowl and around the house. When Mary Hannah wasn't around he let me have people food, which I really liked. I was almost willing to take it out of his hand.

For now, though, we had a truce. He left it on the floor beside him. I would lie there to eat it as long as he didn't touch me, and we got to watch television together. I wondered sometimes, though, what it would have been like to sit on the sofa or put my head on the footrest of his recliner because feet carried the essence of a human's smell.

How ironic, huh? I finally had a real life, a good life, and I was too scared to make the most of it there at first.

But I kept trying to give back to them by helping them realize they were meant to be together. Like how they thought I was clumsy because I kept getting under their feet, but that was really to help them bump into each other. When they touched, pheromones filled the air.

I also worked my stubby tail off trying to figure out what Mary Hannah and AJ wanted from me all the way to New Year's and into the week after. Because when they were happy, that made me happy. They'd given me everything, so much more than I ever knew existed. I owed them all my loyalty.

So over those two weeks while I worked hard to do what they wanted, I figured out a few things of my own. A car ride was better than drugs because of all the scents that came through the vents. Treats taken from a human's hand tasted better because of the hint of salt from their skin. But the best part of my new world? Running full-out in the snow without a chain to stop me, the wind against my face and sun shining bright.

They told me I would learn more things like commands and how to fetch. They're all amazing, easy joys for me now, but each so difficult to attempt back then.

I didn't understand how locked into myself I'd become until the world began expanding. More than just new scents. More than just my dreams of a honeysuckle world. I'd lived in that cabin with only brief trots in the yard. That had been it. The sum of my existence. Television showed me the world, but that's not the same as experiencing and witnessing firsthand.

Like tipping my nose to sniff the scent of peppermint mixing with the salty guy scent I knew well from sleeping on top of AJ's laundry when he went to work.

They were attracted to each other. Seriously. No question. I happen to be an expert on such things even though I've been spayed. I knew all about mating from my litters.

And I was absolutely certain Mary Hannah and AJ wouldn't be able to resist much longer.