"Hey, we're not broken." Dylan almost believed the words coming out of his own mouth. "We served our country. We are highly skilled. We are loyal, dedicated men."
Though the speech was impassioned, the faces around him looked doubtful.
"Frances might have a point," said Xavier, using the feminization of the name to get under Fran's skin like they all did from time to time. "There are a lot of hard-up women out there. Some probably need a place to stay, money in their pocket, or just a good lay."
Now it was Dylan who rolled his eyes and neck at the preposterous direction the discussion was taking. He needed his men to focus on viable solutions to this very real problem. But the other men were listening to Xavier's nonsense.
"Dr. Patel is always saying we need a good woman to heal our hearts." Reed picked up the gauntlet of the insanity. He was a romantic at heart and still believed love was waiting to come into his arms. "Maybe now's the time."
"Patel had an arranged marriage," said Fran. "And it worked for him."
"This is the Wild West," said Reed. "This kind of stuff happened here all the time. Remember the Gold Rush Brides?"
"That was California," Sean said. The man was a walking encyclopedia. "You mean mail order brides."
"It would be email now," said Fran. "No one uses the postal system."
"We are not finding women on Craig's List," said Dylan, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut in exasperation.
"Then how are we gonna stay here?"
Dylan wasn't sure which man said it, but he knew they all were thinking it. He opened his eyes and faced the room full of men. They'd looked to him for leadership when they were in combat, and they looked at him the same way now. How would they win this particular war on the home front?
"We'll petition the court," said Dylan. "I have a few contacts in the government."
"We have more recruits coming in a couple of month. What are we gonna do with them?"
Dylan didn't have an answer for that. He didn't know how he would take in another wounded soldier only to potentially turn the man away. As he prepared to turn around, a flash of fur ran through the room.
No, ran wasn't exactly the right word. Two front paws ran. The two back paws were not there. Instead, two wheels acted as legs that the little dog used to propel himself onward.
Dylan wasn't the only one who spotted the animal. The other soldiers turned and stared at the creature. The dog stared back. It also slowed down as it looked up at all the big humans eying it.
The dog had had a grin on his face, but under the close scrutiny, his muzzle closed. He pulled his lolling tongue back into his mouth and let out a low whimper.
Dylan bent down to be on the dog's level. He rested on his good knee, which was a difficult feat for him after a long day. But he had to get a closer look at this dog and his apparatus.
The dog made a slow beeline for Dylan. Dylan put his hand out to the dog. The dog gave the back of his hand a tentative sniff and then a lick.
Who would do such a thing as to take a dog's hind legs? But more importantly, who would take the time to make a contraption that gave the animal back a semblance of the life he once knew?
"I'm so sorry," said a feminine voice. "That's my dog."
Dylan looked up into the face of the woman. She was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail. She wasn't wearing a lick of makeup. She looked fresh, clean, capable.
She marched into the room, not like she was on a catwalk, but like she was on a mission. She reached for the dog and he saw her hands were un-manicured. When one of her rough fingers brushed the skin of his forearm, Dylan felt a spark. His breath caught and so did hers.
Chapter Six
Dazzling.
That was the only word Maggie could use to describe the blue of his eyes. They weren't crystal clear because there was a hint of navy. But the color was a little too light to be categorized as exactly navy. So, dazzling it was.
And he was staring at her. No, not staring. Gazing.
Maggie knew the difference. She'd had plenty of people stare at her in elementary school when they discovered that Santa had never come to her house. Or when she wore outdated hand-me-downs in middle school. Or when she temporarily went vegan in high school. Or when she insisted she could save an animal that was clearly bound for pet heaven.
Those were all stares that said, “What is with this girl?,” or “Would you look at this poor thing,” or “What an annoying woman.”
None of those was the look coming from the dazzling blue eyes gazing down at her. That look was one of curiosity. It was a look of surprise. Was it a look of … interest?
No. That couldn't be right. A man that beautiful, with dazzling eyes like those, and a strong square chin, and blond hair that settled in perfect waves, wouldn't be interested in a girl like her.
Maggie was plain, where he was perfect. She was slight, where he was fit and toned. She was not unattractive per say, where he was drop-dead gorgeous.
Then she realized, that gaze wasn't meant for her. He'd lifted his gaze from Spin to her. That curiosity, that surprise, that interest, it had to be for Spin and his apparatus. She was just receiving the residual effects of him looking at her dog.
Still, that was a huge mark in the man's favor. He'd shown compassion and kindness to a dog, a wounded one at that. The man had scooped Spin, apparatus and all, up into his strong embrace.
Spin was happily wagging his tail in the man's arms. The dog's tongue lolled as he panted happily and gave the man pure puppy dog eyes. Spin whimpered when Maggie tried to take him back. And that's when she felt it.
Though Maggie had little to no experience with men, she was a red-blooded woman. She knew what the spark was. That's what she felt when her fingertips touched the big, gazing, dazzling man.
The spark wasn't hot like a fire. It was like Fourth of July sparklers being set off all over her skin. She wanted to shiver, but she felt too warm.
“This is your dog?" he asked.
If his skin was like sparklers, his voice was like honey; golden and smooth with just the right amount of sweetness. It took Maggie a moment to find her voice. Even after a moment of searching, her voice still wouldn't come out of hiding. So, she simply nodded.
The man stretched out his muscled arms to hand Spin over, but the dog again whimpered. Spin was cradled back in the man's arms looking doubtfully at Maggie.
"We're new to each other," she said. "We only just met a few days ago when I rescued him."
"Rescued him?" The man took one hand and rubbed Spin's head. The dog preened at the attention.
"I rescued Spin here from my boss. He wanted me to kill him."
Low growls went up through the room. Maggie turned to see that she was in a room full of equally big and beautiful men. But she didn't feel an ounce of fear. She was a good judge of character when it came to danger. She got the sense that any of these men would stand up to defend the weak.
"I'm a vet tech," she said. "Or at least I was. My boss, the veterinarian, wanted me to put him down because he felt it was a kindness with his injury."
The mood changed in the room. She could tell she was in a room of people who strongly disagreed with Dr. Cooper's prognosis.
"Instead, I patched him up and dognapped him."
"Atta girl," someone called.
"Yeah, well, I lost my job because of it," she said. "That's why I'm here. I'm looking for Pastor—I mean, Dr. Patel. He said there might be a place for me here?"
"A place for you here?" The man who held her dog repeated her words.
Maggie nodded. "Yeah, he said it would include room and board and a place for my animals, as well. I just got kicked out of my apartment for having too many dogs. So, I'm hoping this job pans out because it's all I've got."
Heads turned to and fro. The men all looked at each other as though they shared an inside joke. Only, no one was laughing.
Chapter Seven
Dylan learned that the woman's name was Maggie. The name suited her somehow. It was a strong sound with just the right amount of femininity.
They all filed into Dr. Patel's office. And by they he meant himself, Spin the dog who'd burst into the barn, Maggie, and her dog Soldier, whom she said didn't do well with new people. Her other three dogs were outside checking out their new surroundings under the watchful eyes of the other soldiers.
The Rottweiler with a gash over his eye had given one sniff to Sean’s leg and began trailing blindly after him. Sean gave the dog a scratch behind the ears and walked slowly so the partially blind dog could keep up.
The Pug, with star-like patches missing from his back, and the overweight Retriever began a sorry looking game of catch with two of the other soldiers. Reed tossed a ball with his good arm. The dogs sauntered after it. Then stared down at it instead of picking it up. Finally, Fran picked up the ball and tried again. With the same effect.
Xavier held back. He'd introduced himself to Maggie with a cocky grin and a wink. But when Maggie took the rest of her dogs out of her truck, Dylan wasn't surprised when Xavier took a few steps back. He'd once been a dog person, but that was before he'd lost not one, but two war dogs.
Dylan held the door for Maggie and then waited for her to sit down with the Chihuahua in her lap before he settled with Spin who still refused to be parted from him. He couldn't help but notice that the little dog was missing a front paw. Like Spin, the little dog had an enhancement to help it get around. It seemed all of Maggie's animals were wounded in some light.
Dylan looked up at Dr. Patel, suspicion etched in the grooves on his forehead. But as always, the man smiled a patient, wise smile. The Chihuahua jumped down from Maggie's arms and wagged his tail until Dr. Patel picked her up and settled her onto his lap.
"So, Maggie, I see you've met Dylan."
Maggie turned and smiled at Dylan. Once again, Dylan felt a spark of something in his chest, something he thought long snuffed. He had the urge to lean across his chair and sniff her like Spin was doing to him. He held back from the insane urge, cradling the dog in his arms as a barrier.
"I have," Maggie said as she faced him. "Are you the one in charge here? I'm sorry, I didn't dress formally or bring in my resume. I didn't realize the job interview would be today."
"Job interview?" Dylan turned to Dr. Patel.
"Like I told you in the barn, I'm a vet tech," Maggie said. "Pastor Patel led me to believe you needed help here on the ranch? I was coming by to check it out."
"Oh, Dylan needs help," said Dr. Patel. "But it's a different type of job."
Dylan could feel his face growing hot. He felt a phantom ache in his knee that was no longer there.
"What kind of job?" asked Maggie, still oblivious to Dr. Patel's machinations.
"A permanent one," said Dr. Patel. "The two of you have a lot in common. Commonalities make for strong relationship bonds."
"If you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting, then just stop," said Dylan. But he knew better. Dr. Patel always pushed the issue in that gentle, unassuming way of his.
"Maggie is a good girl; a kind soul that only looks to help others. You're the same. She just lost her home, and so have all of these animals. You're about to lose your home, and so will all of the soldiers here. If the two of you joined forces, each of you could come away with what you want, and perhaps more than you were expecting."
"I don't understand?" said Maggie.
Dylan couldn't stand for Dr. Patel to say it in that patient, rational way of his. The idea was certifiably insane, and the tone and the word choice needed to emphasize that. "He has the crazy idea that we should get married."
He waited for a breath before he turned to face her. Maggie's face was screwed in confusion. She turned in her chair and looked Dylan up and down. Dylan held still, feeling as though he were caught in the crosshairs of a sniper rifle as Maggie beheld him. Her verdict had to be that she found him wanting because she leaned back.
Dylan didn't listen as Dr. Patel further explained the predicament they found themselves in and the benefits of his solution. Dylan turned his focus on the dog.
Spin looked up at him with sad eyes. His front paws scratched at Dylan's heart. Spin's mouth split into a hopeful grin, like a divorced kid who wanted a new daddy.
Dylan gave the dog a scratch behind the ears, and the dog sighed, grateful for the attention. It was all he could do. He wouldn't become this dog's daddy.
"You can't be serious," Maggie was saying.
She was pretty, with a good heart, and smart. She might take in wounded dogs, but wounded men were a different story. Dylan had always imagined being married and having children. But that door was closed to him now. He couldn't be a father to a child in his condition. He couldn't be a husband to a wife either.
He had to admit that he found Maggie attractive. She was unassumingly pretty. Not like the society girls he was used to. She was the girl next door, but from a different neighborhood. It probably took her a few minutes to get ready in the morning, and the little effort is what made her stunning.
Her face was fresh and clean. Her scent earthy and not expensive and cloying. She didn't cross her legs at the ankle as she sat. Both of her hiking boots were planted firmly on the ground. There had been an animal resting in her lap. Now that her lap was vacant, she rested her elbows on her knees as she leaned forward listening intently to Dr. Patel.
No, she was not Dylan's type. The only reason he felt any attraction to her had to be because it had been so long since he'd been with a woman. So long since he'd even been around an available woman. But none of those old dreams were available to him.
"Maggie," Dr. Patel was saying, "you told me yourself, you have nowhere to go. And you have little money. No place you could afford would allow you to take all your dogs. You'll have to take them to the pound, and you, of all people, know what would happen to them."
Maggie chewed at her lower lip, at the same time twisting the corner between her thumb and forefinger. Dylan couldn't take his eyes off the movement of her fingers and tooth. He felt himself panting like the dog in his arms.
"I know you haven't had any luck at love," Dr. Patel said. "Dylan's a good man, an honorable man. And like I said, the two of you are a match. My gut tells me so. The two of you would suit if you give it a chance."
Maggie's cheeks had flamed as Dr. Patel talked about her love life or lack thereof. Want dropped in Dylan's belly, so heavy his gut grumbled.
"He does have a point," said Dylan.
Maggie lifted her gaze to him. The color slowly drained from her cheeks as she did so. Her gaze was uncertain, wary, as though she was expecting to hear the punchline of a bad joke at any second. But Dylan wasn't joking. A strategic plan was forming in his mind.
"We could give it a trial period," he said. "You can stay here, with your dogs, of course. We could use a hand with the farm animals. You can earn some extra money, have a roof over your head. And if it doesn't work out in thirty days, if we find we don't click, you'll have some extra cash and the time to look for someplace where all of you will be accepted."
Maggie's lips parted. Dylan had to swallow down the desire that rose. This was a business arrangement, just like the guys had outlined in the barn. He could do this.
"You'd do that?" she asked.
"Sure," said Dylan. "It's the only way I think this little guy will let me put him down."
Maggie grinned at Spin with so much love and care in her eyes. She'd said she'd only had the dog for a few days. She'd rescued him, healed him, and given him a new lease on life. Dylan wondered if feelings that deep could develop so quickly and last longer than a dog's lifetime?
Chapter Eight
Maggie rolled over in her bed. Her legs tangled in the top sheet. She'd been dreaming of a strong, warm, male body with corded muscles, a serious facade, kind eyes and a scent that reminded her of a fall day.
She'd tossed and turned all night. Now that her eyes we
re open, everything was bleary. She couldn't help feeling that yesterday had been some sort of dream. But she knew it had been real.
She'd been proposed to.
Sort of.
Dylan had offered more of a business proposal than a potential love match.
The very idea was crazy. But the idea wouldn't leave her alone. It kept buzzing around her brain, sneaking into her dreams, and nagging her now that she was awake.
She flung her arms out across her bed and met fur. Sugar rested on the right side of the bed, snoring softly. Stevie sat awake at the foot of her bed, waiting patiently for her to rise. The two smaller dogs rested comfortably in their doggie beds on the floor. Spin sulked in the closet where Maggie saw his eyes flash at her.
Maggie was certain she knew what the dog was thinking. Why are we here alone in this drafty apartment when we could be on a ranch with space to roam and run free? We could be working alongside animals who were trained in the noble cause of helping wounded soldiers. And we could be spending time getting closer to one of said soldiers who'd offered his home, his support, and his hand in marriage.
Maggie flung herself back on the other side of the bed, turning away from Spin's accusing glare. When she did, Stevie woke up with a confused bark, which woke up the smaller dogs. By the time she sat up, her entire household was awake and looking to her for their sustenance, healing, and direction in life.
Her dogs had been immediately taken by Dylan. Dogs were good judges of character, after all. It was clear that Dylan was doing an honorable thing in trying to save the ranch for the wounded soldiers in his care. And he had kind eyes. Beautiful eyes, set in a face so handsome that Maggie shuddered under the warm covers.
The idea was preposterous; marrying a stranger. Sure, she knew people did it all the time. Pastor Patel and his wife had been matched by their families. The two had married only after a few weeks of meeting for the first time. She knew that the Patels were very happy, with a large family of adult children—some of whom were matched in the same light.
The Brides 0f Purple Heart Ranch Boxset, Bks 1-3 Page 3
