Rescue Me (20 page)

“I thought I did, but not enough to change jobs. In retrospect, I just thought it was the right time to be married.” His parents had introduced them. Her father was a cop. In the end that had made her more leery. “Ironic that now I can't even do the damn job anymore.”

He perched the base of a snowman by a tree.

Mary Hannah plunked her medium-sized snowball on top. “Do you still keep in touch with her?”

He shook his head, packing another snowball to start on the head. “Never crossed my mind. That was eight years ago.”

Her forehead furrowed, but she kept working, reaching up to break off two icy branches. “What are you not saying?”

That counselor perceptiveness of hers was working overtime today.

“There is another woman in my past. One who meant a lot to me.” Even thinking about that time hurt. Bad. “On an undercover op I crossed a line. I let myself get involved with a woman, which is a betrayal on every level.”

“What happened?” she asked quietly, sticking the wooden arms on either side.

“She was the sister of a dealer. Everything indicated she wanted out of the gang and had nothing to do with the drug operation.” He just rolled and rolled, but it gave him something to do with his hands other than touch her.

“But if you were undercover as a part of that world, why did she get involved with you?”

“She said she thought she could reform me, that she saw something good inside me.” He'd seen what he wanted to see, a damsel in distress. “On the one hand it was risky as hell in case she saw through my cover and even more dangerous to think of what could happen to her after the shakedown. That world doesn't forgive people they perceive as traitors.”

She dropped to sit in the snow. “Oh God, please don't say something happened to her.”

“She's alive, in jail for drug possession and child endangerment.” He shrugged, dropping the snowman's warped head on top. “She wasn't as innocent as she appeared, and I wasn't as perceptive as I thought.”

“Child endangerment?” She pushed to her feet, holding a handful of icy rocks and pebbles. “Is that your . . . ?”

“No, her little girl wasn't mine. Although I got to know the kid well, an innocent kid.” He took half of the rocks from her and worked on the snowman's mouth. “Nobody tells you about that part of undercover work. The children. Intellectually, I knew that drug dealers have sons and daughters, babies. But knowing and seeing, those are two different things.”

Mary Hannah pushed two rock eyes into place. “How old was her daughter?”

“Two years old living in a meth house.” When she didn't speak, he looked over. “What? No condemning comment about what kind of mother does that?”

Compassion filled her brown eyes. “I've seen plenty of good people trapped in situations that are completely illogical and self-destructive. It happens.”

Yeah, it happened. And it also happened that he'd woken up with that little girl during the night when she couldn't sleep in her bed or needed a drink. He'd sung her lullabies, for crying out loud.

“But the kids, God.” His voice choked off for a second, the rest of the pebbles slipping between his gloved fingers. “The kids.”

She clasped his hand in hers. “There's something more here.”

“Aubrey—that's her name—was just sitting there watching cartoons like any other toddler, with her favorite blanket and a sippy cup. Except when we made the bust later, we found her under the bed in agony.” The image was burned in his brain, something he would never get over. “Someone had used the sippy cup to measure drain cleaner for the meth.”

She gasped in horror. “Is she—?”

“She survived. I called the emergency room in time. I filed my report and moved on.” He drew in breath after breath of icy air trying to soothe the fire in his gut. “I went into an apartment for a routine bust—if meth busts are ever routine. I saw a bowl of dog food by the drain cleaner and something flipped inside my brain. It was like I was there again. I couldn't function. A few weeks later, I almost got my partner killed. Something had to change.
I
had to change.”

“Then you came here, only to find dogs in a meth house once more.” She slid her arms around him, her hair tickling his chin as they stood there beside their lopsided snowman. “AJ, I'm so sorry for what you've been through and the things you've had to see while trying to keep the rest of the world safe.”

His hand fell to rest on Holly's head. “That was a bad day, but I'm glad for her sake we were there.”

“Still, somehow that isn't giving you peace.”

She was too damn perceptive. He pulled in another bracing breath of chilly air.

“I just kept thinking how Aubrey should never have been in that house in the first place. I should have said to hell with the sting and had her removed from that home right away. But I believed Sheila when she said she was getting out and preparing to start a new life for them. I made a mistake that almost cost Aubrey her life.” His judgment was faulty when he let feelings get involved.

Mary Hannah stroked his face, the woolly mitten scratchy against his skin. “You're human.”

“I'm a police detective.” He clasped her wrist. He didn't deserve the comfort. “I'm trained to know better, damn it. I let my judgment get clouded by a beautiful set of eyes and a sad smile.”

“I could explain the psychology of deep undercover work, but I imagine that won't help you feel any better about what happened.”

“I wish I could say you're wrong, I really do.” He rested his forehead on hers, wanting to be different for her. He'd come here to escape the past, only to realize it lived inside him. There was nowhere to go.

More than anything, he wanted to haul Mary Hannah into his arms and say to hell with it all. Plunge into the future and hope he could pretend to be the man she deserved, a man who wasn't always one step away from total burnout.

Holly nudged him again, the press of her solid body a comfort. Then Trooper barked, sprinting across the bridge to chase a rabbit, yanking Mary Hannah with him. Holding the leash, she slid like an ice-skater down the sloped bridge. AJ scrambled to catch her, tough as hell to do with Holly tugging to join her new buddy, Trooper. Mary Hannah's feet hooked at the end of the bridge, and she went flying into a snowbank.

Damn it.

“Are you okay?” AJ picked his way to her where she lay flat on her back with her eyes closed.

His heart lodged in his throat. What if she'd hit her head on a rock? Both dogs sniffed her, whimpering. He knelt quickly, patting her face carefully. “Mary Hannah?”

Her hand shot up fast. And she pitched a snowball in his face.

Icy flakes exploded over his skin. Mary Hannah's laughter tickled his ears. Her arms went around his neck, and she pulled him into the snowbank with her, her lips warm against his. The taste of peppermint brought back erotic memories of massaging her with that scent.

Naked.

He would have thought it impossible to have a raging hard-on while covered in snow, but Mary Hannah was tempting beyond any rationale. He rolled, settling her on top of him so the cold was against his back while they kissed. God, he appreciated how she'd distracted them both from weightier subjects, allowing them to keep things light and dodge the inevitable crash awhile longer.

She was his total opposite, which pretty much made her perfect. His mind started traveling what-if paths the way it always did when he held her, desperate to figure out a way to be the right kind of guy for her.

Holly and Trooper started barking again, and thank God they did, or he might well have made love to Mary Hannah there in the snow where anyone could have walked up on them wrapped in coats, going at it.

Lifting her off him, he sat up, his pants tugging uncomfortably at his erection. He struggled to clear his fogged mind. The two dogs raced toward the fence line, their leashes trailing. Mary Hannah's gasp made him look closer.

The dogs weren't just racing to the gate. They were galloping to greet a small cluster of people, one of whom had a movie camera on his shoulder. A man in a cowboy hat walked ahead with Lacey McDaniel. Two burly guys trailed them looking a lot like bouncers.

AJ pushed to his feet, dusting the snow off his jeans. “Does that guy in front look familiar to you?”

Mary Hannah shaded her eyes with her hand, peering toward the group. Her hand fell back to her side and she smiled. “Maybe you recognize him from the Grammy Awards. Or visits to the Grand Ole Opry.”

Holy crap. No wonder the guy looked familiar.

It was country-music-star legend Billy Brock.

Things were getting out of hand fast, talk-show style. I sure hoped these people didn't start throwing chairs.

—HOLLY ON
JERRY SPRINGER

L
ACEY HAD A
raging headache.

She should be rejoicing over the media coverage. She had a country-music icon to her rescue with the local news documenting the entire visit, an incredible benefit of living an hour's drive from Nashville. Billy Brock's presence would be a huge boon for the event and her rescue as a whole.

And even more than that, she should be turning cartwheels over her doctor visit yesterday. She wasn't pregnant. She was just “having her own personal summer.”

A perimenopausal pregnancy scare.

Good news. Right? She should have been hugely relieved, but still she couldn't escape a lingering sadness. There would be no more babies. She drank half a bottle of wine and cried until four in the morning before falling into an exhausted sleep.

Once she'd finally managed to put her feet on the floor, she'd tossed on baggy cargo pants with bleach stains and a sweatshirt over her favorite long purple tank top. Her churning stomach totally the fault of wine this time. Her hair was pulled back with a floral neck ruffle normally worn by little dogs.

Yep, she was a hungover fashion plate for sure.

Shivering, she hugged her parka tighter around her and tried to focus on the conversation to get her best talking points on film. The singer was an animal activist supporting his message by visiting each of the participating shelters. The competition was stiff.

Lacey needed to make this interview standout amazing. “The lady walking toward us is a volunteer trainer. Mary Hannah is a mental-health counselor, and she trains service dogs, therapy dogs and emotional-support dogs. She's working with two entries from our shelter, Mr. Brock.”

“Aw, just call me Billy, ma'am.” His long strides had her double-timing to keep up.

Billy Brock looked like a smoother version of Johnny Cash, a bad boy with a gravelly voice. He'd charmed the world with his country redemption ballads. Hollywood starlets and Nashville divas all claimed to be the subject of his songs, but he never gave names. A gentleman, Billy Brock never told tales.

And then he went right on to break another heart.

The cameraman angled his lens at Mary Hannah and AJ jogging closer with Holly and Trooper loping alongside. They looked so right together, the chemistry and connection building by the day, impossible to miss. No doubt the camera was eating them up.

AJ extended his hand. “Good afternoon, Mr. Brock—”

“Call me Billy, my boy; you make me feel a hundred years old with that mister mess.” He shook hands, then swept off his hat. “And hello, Mary Hannah, good to see you again.” Then nodded to Lacey. “Pleased to meet you, ma'am.”

His gesture made Lacey think of another man who wore a signature cowboy hat, Ray, an unconventional veterinarian who would have been excited about this event. Ray had left town to do mission work for a year, vowing he would return for her once she'd finished grieving. That was eighteen months ago.

She'd accepted the fact he wasn't coming back. It had been a silly crush, a fantasy about a younger man at a chaotic time in her life. She'd moved on with Wyatt. Sort of.

Thank goodness Mary Hannah was holding up the conversation for this interview.

“It's a pleasure and honor to have you here, Billy. Thank you for sharing your time and talent with us.”

“I'm an old country singer with a sandpaper voice these days, but if that'll help homeless animals in this area, then I'm all in.”

“We're glad to hear it.” Mary Hannah brought the dogs forward with a hand gesture. “This is Trooper, befriended in Iraq by Lacey's husband, then brought here after he died in action.”

“I believe I remember reading about that story. My condolences, Miz Lacey.”

“Thank you. Trooper has given a lot of comfort to our family. He lives with my daughter and her husband now.”

Mary Hannah guided the boxer forward, which took a little more finesse. “This is Holly. She was rescued from a meth-house operation and has been paired with AJ for the Mutt Makeover competition.”

AJ stroked Holly's side reassuringly, already in tune with the animal. “I work for the local police force. Mary Hannah's training an emotional-support dog for me to help with decompressing from the stresses that come with the job.”

Impressive that he explained it so comfortably on camera. He'd come a long way from the initial resentment Wyatt had described when he'd proposed a support dog.

Billy held out his hand for Holly to sniff. “I've heard of dogs like that for soldiers but hadn't considered using them for our law enforcement. Novel idea.” Holly dipped her head for him to stroke. “Atta girl, good girl. I wonder if that's the real reason why fire stations started keeping a dog.”

Lacey smiled. No wonder this man charmed people far and wide.

“Could be,” AJ acknowledged.

Holly dropped to her belly and shoved her nose into the snow. Pedaling her back legs, she burrowed forward, butt in the air. The cluster of people burst out laughing, and Lacey had to admit, Holly was funny, even if she was far from acting well trained.

Billy tapped the cameraman. “Be sure to get that. She's cute as a bug. A mighty big bug.”

Lacey scooped up Trooper's leash. “Holly's a work in progress. I doubt she'll be jumping through rings of fire or dancing in a hula skirt at the competition. Only a month ago, she'd lived her entire life as a breeder dog on a chain. We're teaching her to play.”

Now
that
was spin.

Billy laughed, one of those deep, throaty laughs that filled wide-open spaces. “She'll be in a category all her own.” He looked around the rescue yard, scratching just under his Stetson. “And your other entry?”

“An army veteran and his son are working together with a Cairn Terrier.” That wounded family tore at her heart. They'd been through so much so young. “We needed a smaller dog for them due to the soldier's war injuries.”

Billy swept his hat off again, turning it round and round in his hands. “That must bring up a lot of memories for you. No one would blame you from wanting to stay away from reminders of the military.”

“I do this in honor of Allen.” He had been her high school sweetheart. Her first love. Her first lover. She missed him every day.

He held the hat against his heart. “Ma'am, you have my deepest condolences.”

“I appreciate that,” she said, his sincerity real and touching. His eyes broadcasted that the sympathy was more than just token words. “If Allen were here, he would invite you to share a beer while he told you all about our zoo.”

“I would have liked to meet him.”

“He would want you to know he's grateful for all you're doing here today. Thank you for all your support in making the event a success. Even for those of us who don't win, the exposure for our organization and the animals is priceless.”

He plunked his hat back on his head. “Well, ma'am, I have the kind of time and money to do projects that interest me.” His eyes lingered for an instant with that Cowboy Romeo appeal he was so famous for. “I'm not a slave to the concert tour and publicity hounds any longer. Animal rescue is close to my heart. My daddy was a vet tech in a poor county shelter. I saw a lot following him around at work. You're making a real difference here.”

Lacey's cheeks felt hot in spite of the winter weather. She looked to the others, but they were all occupied playing with the dogs. “All of the shelters and rescues participating can't thank you enough.”

“You're the driving force behind this. That's clear to see.”

She appreciated the thought but had to be fair. “Dahlia at the county shelter has worked with me every step of the way. She has an amazing eye for screening possible service dogs. A win for one shelter or rescue is a win for all.”

“I like you, Miz McDaniel.” Those deep brown eyes of his melted over her like warm chocolate.

Staring back, she couldn't deny her bruised, menopausal ego soaked up the light flirting that meant nothing in the big scheme of things but made her feel attractive. She allowed herself to savor the sensation because honestly, it hurt no one and was going nowhere.

She barely registered the sound of footsteps crackling through the snow until Wyatt's arm went around her shoulder. “Hello there, Mr. Brock. I'm Wyatt Parker, Lacey's fiancé.”

*   *   *

WYATT COULD STILL
see steam coming out of Lacey's ears even two hours after the interview. He probably should be grateful she hadn't cut him off at the knees when he made the impulsive announcement. But he'd been so pissed and jealous watching her light up for the famous musician. Not that he expected her to suddenly dump him for Billy Brock. Except the glimmer in her eyes reminded him too much of the way she used to look at that veterinarian Ray Vega.

A look she'd never once turned his way.

Lacey closed her office door, sealing the two of them inside and alone for the first time since he'd claimed her as his, on film no less, for the whole world to know.

She locked the door and turned to face him, fists on her hips. “I can't believe you did that.”

He couldn't help but snap back, “I can't believe you've ignored my marriage proposal for weeks.”

“Damn it, Wyatt, my daughter is in the hospital with critically high blood pressure, fighting for her baby's life. I can't think about the future right now. Why can't you understand that?”

“Because you were making excuses before she went in the hospital.” He leaned back against her desk, arms over his chest.

She paced, shaking her head. “It's just bad timing. I need to think.”

“If you have to think this hard, then I believe your answer is already mighty damn clear.” Frustration gnawed at his insides. He'd done everything right, been the romantic gentleman, and it hadn't gotten him jack shit.

She continued to walk restless circles in her small office, her hair shaking loose from that ridiculous hair band. “You're rushing me.”

“You told me you fell for your husband right away.” And yeah, that stung.

“I was a teenager,” she cried, throwing up her hands. “What did I know about love?”

“It lasted for two decades. Sounds like you knew a lot.”

Her restless feet slowed. “People fall in love in different ways,” she explained as if talking to a junior high sex-ed class. “That doesn't make one better or greater than another. I was enjoying what we had.”

“Had?”

“You're just picking a fight.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her stubborn stance mirroring his own. “If
you
have changed your mind, then say so.”

This was getting him nowhere. In fact, it threatened to derail the progress he'd made. He should have held his peace and kept quiet until all the company left and she started freaking out over her emptying nest.

“Lacey, babe, I'm sorry.” He pulled her toward him. Her feet held and he tugged harder until she relented and stood in his arms, her chest to his. She wasn't relaxing against him, but she didn't pull away.

He kissed the top of her head and reminded himself to be patient. Letting his impulsive side show was a mistake. He had too much at stake here with her and at work to be anything but cool-headed. He would win in the end through persistence.

Losing her was not an option.

*   *   *

WITH THE MOON
just beginning to climb in the sky, Mary Hannah walked Trooper back to the McDaniel house, her body still humming from making love to AJ. After the interview, they'd returned to his cabin, and the next thing she knew, her back was flat against the door. AJ was wooing her with a corny country accent, singing country songs and teasing her about falling for Billy Brock's line of bull.

She hadn't seen that lighthearted side of AJ often, and it surprised her. But something had happened between them when they ventured into deeper waters, building that goofy little snowman while talking about serious subjects. Was it possible she could trust him with her darkest secrets after all? Could his work actually help him understand rather than lead him to judge her? A tempting notion that stirred hope. And wasn't that a scary thought? It had been so long since she dared dream of a future with a man.

Trooper tugged at the leash as they neared the McDaniels' rambling farmhouse. She let go, and he raced to the front porch. Lacey sat in a rocking chair, wrapped in a blanket with a thermos in her hands.

Mary Hannah climbed the front-porch steps, gripping the rail. “What's wrong?”

“Why do you assume something's the matter? This is an amazing day.” She lifted her thermos in a toast. “Our rescue will be in a news feature. Cause for celebration.”

“It is. Yet you're still clearly upset.” She sat in the rocker next to Lacey, realizing that somewhere along the way Lacey had become her friend as well. The connection they shared wasn't just because of Sierra or the rescue.

“I'm just . . . tired.”

Mary Hannah simply sat, rocking back and forth. She didn't speak. People felt the need to fill a silence. That was often a counselor's greatest tool, more valuable than the sagest of advice.

“Wyatt's announcement that we're engaged was not true,” she said softly into the night. “I hadn't turned him down, but I definitely hadn't agreed.”

“That must have been terribly uncomfortable for you.”

“Understatement of the year.” Rolling her eyes, she sipped from the thermos, the scent of hot cocoa steaming out. “I'm not pregnant, by the way, so the pressure should be off. But then he announced to the world we're getting married. I need everything to slow down.”

Through damn good training, Mary Hannah schooled her features not to show emotion until she got her own under control. “How are you going to handle it?”