“I’m sorry, Rob.”
He shrugged, but she could tell it had been terrible for him.
“My dad lost the will to keep on struggling as a cattle rancher. He sold off nearly a third of the herd while she was sick. I suspect the medical bills demanded it. When she died, his heart was no longer in it. He sold off some land. I helped as much as I could while going to school. I did the cooking, and he reduced the number of ranch hands. When I graduated from high school, I just wanted to move on. I considered going to college, but we didn’t have the money. Joining the military seemed like a way to learn something besides ranching. By then, I was sick of all the struggle that came with it. When I went to visit him after basic, he looked like he’d aged ten years, and the ranch looked run-down. Dad died of a heart attack during my first deployment. I felt guilty about leaving him alone, but I couldn’t stay there and watch everything go downhill. Maybe if I’d stayed, things would have been different.” He let out a bitter laugh. “I’d planned to stay in the Army. Now when I think about what I want to do, I think about getting my own spread, finding a ranch and raising cattle, and maybe some other stock. Funny how things change.”
She watched as he took a half dozen eggs and broke them into a crockery bowl. He scraped the mushrooms, onions and tomato pieces off the cutting board and combined them with the eggs before pouring half into a slope-sided frying pan. He pulled paper towels off the roll to drain the bacon, and slice by slice took it out of the large pan. She got up and fetched her grease jar from the cabinet under the sink.
“Will you go back to Colorado?”
He poured the bacon drippings into it, continuing to talk as he did so. “I haven’t decided yet. The droughts out west have made it difficult for ranchers and farmers to maintain their stock. Plus, the price of land has gone up because of population growth and suburban development.”
“We see that around Ridgeview County, too. Old family farms are turning into subdivisions, and rural land gets paved over by roads to carry people back and forth to Knoxville. It makes me sad, because I love the open spaces and rural feel of our county. Luckily, there are some programs that try to protect us from overdevelopment, and some financial policies to protect family farms.”
“It is pretty country around here. I can’t believe how green it is.”
“Yeah. We haven’t had a problem with drought for the past several years. Not since the year of the fires in Gatlinburg.”
“I remember. Trevor shared your email about it. It sounded terrible.”
“It was, but the community always pulls together to help. Dollywood set up a fund for those affected by the fires. It’s something I love about Ridgeview. People help each other.”
After setting the table, she watched the ease with which Rob folded the omelet and flipped it over. When she tried to make omelets, the insides always dripped out and went in all directions. Maverick raised his nose, inhaling the scent of the cooking food, which made her laugh. “I know, boy, it smells amazing to me, too.” Her mouth watered at the smell of bacon and cooking onions. Her stomach growled.
“Hang on, there, MJ. Yours will be finished in a minute.” He checked the underneath size of the omelet. “Bring me your plate.”
She brought both plates over and laid one on the counter, as she reached out to hand the other to Rob. He plated the omelet and a few slices of bacon and handed it back.
“Eat,” he told her.
She dug in, moaning as the flavors of the mushrooms combined with the onions, tomatoes, and cheese hit her mouth. “This is fabulous. I wish I could cook like this. Oh, my gosh.”
***
Rob finished cooking his omelet and sat down across the table from MJ. The noises she made distracted him and made him wonder what noises she might make in bed. Head out of the gutter, Rob.
He searched his brain for something to talk about. Trevor had shared information about her background and family since he’d known them so long. Rob knew her father had been an over-the-road truck driver, and that he’d died when she was in junior high. Her brother owned an auto repair shop in Ridgeview and had played high school football along with Trevor. Her mother worked at the IGA as a cashier.
“What made you become a librarian?” he finally asked.
She laughed. “I loved reading. I mean, it was the center of my universe. When I was a kid, I’d go to the library every day in the summer. I’d check out six books, which was the maximum, and then I’d go home and read them. The next day I’d go back for six more. I thought working in a library would be the most amazing job. When I was in high school, and other girls were waiting tables or babysitting, I got a job at the Ridgeview Library shelving books. I loved it. Nobody could believe it, because shelving books and reading shelves to make sure they’re in order is the most boring task. Not to me. I loved everything about the library. I probably decided to become a librarian when I was in third grade. Some people outgrow the jobs they think they’ll want to do, but not me. I still totally love it.”
“What do you like best?”
“Reading books to little kids,” she answered immediately. “Children’s Story Hour is fun. I love reading parts with different voices, and most of all, I love sharing reading with little ones.” Her expression was one of total delight.
He’d seen her in action, reading to the kiddos, so he knew it made her come alive. He could imagine her with kids of her own, sharing her excitement about life, and helping them love life as much as she did.
“You’re great with kids. Do you want kids of your own?”
A shadow passed over her face before she answered. “Yes. Definitely. I want a family. Someday.” She looked sad. Shit. The future she’d pictured was different now that Trevor was dead. Her dreams of the future couldn’t come true now.
“I’m sorry, MJ,” he said.
“Why?”
He looked into her eyes. “I know you thought you’d have all that with Trevor.”
Her eyes watered, and she sniffed back a tear. “Well, things don’t always work out the way we think they will. It’s hard to get used to the idea that he’s gone, but there’s nothing I can do except move on. He sent me Maverick.” She paused for a moment, then added quietly, “And he sent me you.”
He reached over the table and grabbed her hand. “Meeting you has been the only good thing about this situation.”
Time seemed to stop as their eyes met and held. He wanted to dive into her soul-filled eyes and take her in his arms, but he didn’t have the right.
Maverick came over and sat down next to MJ, putting his head on her knee. She reached over and petted him, and their moment ended.
She’d lost the love of her life. Maverick would help comfort her. Rob still couldn’t stop wondering about her future dreams. What would they be now? Would she find someone else? Damn it. He wanted to be part of those dreams, part of her life. Could she ever find a place in her life for somebody like him?
Chapter Fourteen
MJ grabbed her purse and her tote bag containing a book about dog training and copies of a few articles she’d found about PTSD in animals. They didn’t exactly fit her situation with Maverick, but it was a place to start. She looked forward to seeing Rob and Maverick. The three of them had settled into a comfortable routine. They’d been living together for over a month. It shocked her how easy it was, even though she’d been used to living alone. She didn’t exactly know what that meant, but it had to be good, right?
Rob promised to make dinner tonight, and then they’d work again on training. Even though he worried about her ability to handle a warrior dog—cane guerriero, she reminded herself. Maverick was such a sweet dog, she had trouble remembering he’d seen combat. Only once had he woken them with his eerie, bone-chilling howl. She’d scrambled from her bed and found Rob already helping to ground the Malinois with loud commands and forceful petting. Maverick seemed to need both to penetrate the hold his memories had on him. She didn’t know if the dog had nightmares or flashb
acks, but whatever they were, they had to be scary. They’d both sat with Maverick for a long time before he calmed down. It had taken awhile for her to calm down. Would she be able to handle it without Rob? She had to, that was all.
She pulled into the driveway and parked next to Rob’s truck. Her heart leaped in anticipation. Something about living with him and caring for Maverick together had her thinking about him differently. He wasn’t just Trevor’s best friend anymore. He was her friend, too. Or was it more? There was definitely an attraction between them, but he never crossed that line. What if the attraction was one way? What if he didn’t feel attracted but was only being kind? Although she thought of him differently now, what should she do about it? It would be awkward beyond belief if she acted on her feelings, and he didn’t feel the same way. No, she’d keep her feelings to herself.
“Hi, I’m home,” she yelled as she came in the back door. The kitchen was empty, but she smelled something delicious. She opened the oven door and peeked. “Oh, man, pot roast!” She looked up as Rob entered the room. He looked good enough to eat, with his tight T-shirt stretching across his muscled chest and jeans, worn white in some select places. Her gaze dropped to his feet. When had a man’s bare feet seemed sexy? She had it bad. She struggled to get her thoughts in line.
“How’re my two boys?” she asked.
“Boys? We’re not boys. We’re manly men, aren’t we, Maverick?” Rob retorted, dropping to one knee to ruffle his companion’s fur. The dog panted and looked like he was smiling as widely as the man.
“I stand corrected. Manly men. I’ll remember that.” It was difficult not to laugh out loud.
“How was your day?” he asked as she put her purse and tote bag down on the floor near the entrance into the hallway.
She shrugged. “A little slow. The kids are out of school for teachers’ conferences, so things weren’t as busy. I had time to do a little research.”
Rob looked like he was biting back a smile. “Of course. What did you research?”
“Dog training. I got a book by Woolsey Craine. He’s the one who had a TV show showing people how to manage unruly dogs. It was on the Animal Channel.”
“Sorry, not familiar with it. We didn’t have much time to watch cable in the Sandbox.”
“He teaches humans how to be better leaders with their dogs. He says the problem usually isn’t with the dog; it’s with their owners.”
“I get it. There’s probably some truth to that.” He paused. “You aren’t thinking there’s something wrong with you, are you?”
“Not really. Maverick is well trained, but I don’t want to make mistakes with him.”
Rob laughed, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s so funny?”
“You are, honey. You’re doing fine with him, except when you use baby talk.”
“I don’t do that!”
“Oh, yeah. You do. You call him your ‘love bunny.’ He’s a military dog. A warrior, not one of those fluffy dogs you’d carry around in your purse.”
“I’d never do that! He’s so sweet, though. I sometimes can’t help letting him know I’ve fallen in love with him.”
A silence fell, and she realized what she’d said. It was true, though. She loved Maverick. Only somehow, talk about falling in love seemed uncomfortable to them both. She changed the subject. “What did you two do all day?”
“We jogged to the park and did our PT for a while. Then I went to the store to get the fixin’s for dinner.”
“It smells wonderful. How long until we eat? Do I have time to take a shower?”
“Sure. It’ll be about a half-hour before it’s ready. If you aren’t out, I’ll just keep it warm until you are.”
“Thanks.” Her eyes roamed his body, wishing she wasn’t so attracted to him. What had happened to her? She hadn’t been interested in anyone except Trevor. It had always been Trevor, but he was gone. She didn’t want to be alone forever.
***
Rob breathed a deep sigh as she left the room. The more time he spent with MJ, the more he wanted her. That wasn’t why he was here. His mission was to teach her how to handle Maverick. As much as he might want her for himself, he couldn’t take advantage of her vulnerability. Sometimes the way she looked at him made him want to forget that she was Trevor’s girl. He’d like to take her in his arms, kiss her, taste her, and make her fall apart.
He grabbed pot holders and took the roasting pan out to check it—perfectly tender, and the veggies were cooked. He’d let it sit for a few minutes.
MJ joined him again, dressed in tight-fitting yoga pants and a sweatshirt that said “Juicy.” Lord, help him. She didn’t understand the effect she had on him.
She finished setting the table and slid down into her usual chair. Maverick got up off the rug by the door and came over to put his head on her knee.
Lucky dog. He tried not to be jealous of the animal, but it was difficult.
He put the pot roast on a plate and surrounded it with the vegetables, pulling out a serving fork, carving knife, and a big spoon to serve the carrots, small red potatoes, and juices. He put it in front of her. “Help yourself,” he said as he went back for the wine he’d bought.
“Wow, you went all out. Thanks,” MJ told him as he poured her a glass.
He poured himself one too. He liked beer better, but he wanted to make this meal special, even if he didn’t know why.
While he did that, MJ served herself and started without him. Her moan nearly did him in.
“Oh, Rob. This is fabulous! I never make this kind of meal. I’m usually too exhausted after work to cook. Plus, cooking for one doesn’t lend itself to roasts, unless I want to eat leftovers every day for a week.”
“Glad you like it. It’s one of the best in my bag of cooking tricks. So easy, too.” He slid into a chair kitty-corner from her.
Silence fell between them as they both focused on their meal.
“Oh, I wanted to tell you,” MJ said. “I found some articles on PTSD in animals. It wasn’t exactly Maverick’s situation, but I made copies. I’ll show them to you after supper.”
“Did they talk about how to treat it?”
“Not really. They talked about animals that went through forest fires or natural disasters. You know, I’m really surprised there hasn’t been more written about PTSD in dogs that have been in war.”
“My guess is that people don’t want to think about the wars or what soldiers go through, let alone what the animals they depend on experience.”
She looked deep in thought for several minutes. “I think you’re right. Around here, people only pay attention to military news when someone they love is serving. Everybody else seems oblivious.” Tears gathered in her eyes.
He reached over and touched her shoulder. “Hey, MJ. It’s okay. We serve our country because it’s the right thing to do. Uncle Sam needs us to do this work. It isn’t something just anybody can do.”
“Still, it isn’t fair. Everybody should know what y’all are giving up.” She scowled.
“Maybe it’s even harder on those we leave behind.” He figured they were both thinking about Trevor.
Her voice dropped to nearly a whisper. “I want to move on, Rob, but I don’t know how.” Her eyes searched his, as if he knew the answer.
“I don’t know how either. Just put one foot in front of the other, I guess.” He hated to see the pain in her eyes. Grieving was a bitch. It ambushed you when you least expected it. You’d think you were through it, and then it would broadside you. Would either of them get through it, let alone heal enough to move on?
“C’mon,” he said, getting to his feet and clearing the table. “Let’s go watch a movie. Both of us can use a break. I’ll do the dishes later.”
MJ nodded. “Okay,” she said in a sad little voice.
He couldn’t help himself. He put his arm around her, and together they walked into the living room, and dropped into the navy blue couch. Before he could scoot away, she turned into him, p
utting her head on his chest. A hard pain hit him, and he folded his arms around her. “Shh,” he whispered as he heard a sob. “I’m here for you.” He stroked her hair, and then her soft face with a thumb. “We’ll get through this, honey.” He felt her arms come around him, as she snuggled in, and immediately, he felt better. Maybe they could heal together.
How long they sat that way, he didn’t know. It didn’t matter. His pain felt eased by her presence, and he hoped he did the same for her. Neither one of them spoke. He wouldn’t break the spell by turning on the television. All that mattered was having her in his arms and comforting her. They’d both lost their best friend, but they’d found each other.
He touched MJ’s chin, guiding her face upward to look at him. Her eyes locked on his mouth, and he took it as an invitation. Leaning down, he touched his lips to hers, gently, tentatively. She pulled him tighter and returned the kiss. They clung to each other, and when he touched his tongue to the seam of her lips, she opened readily.
She tasted like pot roast and some other, sweeter taste that must be her very own. Her tongue dueled with his, as she gave him back more than he’d expected. They finally broke apart, and he gazed into her eyes, trying to judge how she felt about their kiss.
She must have seen the question in his eyes. “I’m not sorry,” she said, forthright as always.
He groaned. “Neither am I, honey. I’ve wanted to kiss you for quite a while.”
“Really?” She looked like she wasn’t sure if she believed him.
“Yes. You’re a special woman, MJ. It may not be right to take advantage of your vulnerability, but I feel a special connection. It feels like I’ve known you for years, maybe because Trevor used to read your letters to us. We share the same grief of losing him. Whatever it is, I feel pulled toward you, like a magnetic field is drawing me closer and closer. Is it okay?” He studied her, watching for signs she was uncomfortable, expecting her to pull away at his mention of their shared grief. She didn’t. Instead, she burrowed into his chest, holding him even tighter, but hiding her face.
Saved by a Warrior Dog Page 12
