“Drag her dog bed in here, honey,” Coert ordered as the vet straightened away.
I dashed out and down the stairs to the living room where we’d put Midnight’s dog bed when she and I moved in.
The vet was standing just outside the closet when I got back. I pulled the dog bed in and Coert adjusted to his knees, lifting a calming Midnight in his arms.
I fell to my knees and shoved the shoes aside to position the bed in the corner. When I got it in place, Coert laid her down on it but then rearranged himself to wrap around Midnight and the dog bed while I moved out to talk to the vet.
“Do we have reason to worry?” I asked.
“Did the shelter give you any history on this animal?” she asked back.
“They mentioned this but we haven’t had a storm since I’ve had her so this is our first time,” I shared.
She nodded. “Animals display behavioral symptoms to psychological scars just like humans do. There are even studies that suggest animals suffer from PTSD after traumatic events. They also find coping mechanisms like humans do, which is why she’s in the closet. I would hazard to guess it’s not about the closet, but that your scent in there is stronger than anywhere else and she finds safety in that.”
It was sweet to think of it like that but Midnight didn’t seem to be indicating she felt all that safe even with the smell of Coert and me all around her, or even when Coert and I were all around her.
The vet carried on, “If this behavior is only exhibited during storms, I’ll get you a prescription for an oral sedative that you can give her when a storm is coming. It should help. If it doesn’t, call the office again and me or a vet tech will come out and administer another injection.”
I nodded.
She nodded back, walked into the closet, checked on Midnight and then she came out and I walked her downstairs trying to hide how antsy I was to get back when we said goodbye at the door.
Once I closed it behind her, I went right back to the closet.
When I got there, Coert said, “She’s better now, think she’s almost asleep. Come in here and lay with her, will you?”
He moved out. I moved in. And my relief couldn’t be described when I felt her resting peacefully on her dog bed.
This relief was short lived when I heard Coert clip, “This is Sheriff Coert Yeager. When you get this message, I want you to phone me with the details of who left the black German shepherd named Gorgeous Midnight Magic at the shelter, the dog that was rescued by Cady Moreland last year.”
He left his number and then I saw his frame fill the door to the closet again.
“You called the shelter?” I asked.
“Yes,” he bit out.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because I’m going to talk to the children of the man who got Midnight to see if I can find out where he got her, and then I’m going to investigate the assholes he got her from.”
“And then what will you do?”
“Scare the fuck outta them by charging them with felony animal cruelty.”
Oh my God.
“Honey,” I whispered.
“It won’t stick but I’m still gonna do it.”
“Is that actually a thing?” I asked.
“It is. It’s harder than hell to push through and the charge is usually brought in extreme cases where more than one animal is affected, dogs are used in fights or there’s loss of life, which in the case of an animal means loss of property. But it’s still a fuckin’ thing.”
It appeared my man was more than a little angry and even though his anger warmed my heart and I understood and agreed with what was causing it, I still had to do something about it.
“She’s fine now,” I said softly in an attempt to soothe him.
“She wasn’t ten minutes ago and she’s fine now because she’s been fucking medically sedated.”
It was then, something happened.
His words and the force behind them made visions of Coert wrapped around our quaking dog in the corner of a closet pop into my head. These visions juxtaposed with memories of Coert sweetly admonishing Janie not to talk with her mouth open. And those juxtaposed with Coert not caring even a little bit when baby Callum used his jaw as a punching bag. All of this overlapped with demanding the shelter provide him information about an abused dog and Coert not allowing me to go downstairs and answer the door even though we knew it was the vet because he was just that protective of me.
More started crowding in but I stopped them when I whispered, “I love you.”
“I know,” he replied.
I kept whispering when I blurted out, “And I think I’m pregnant.”
Coert went stock still.
“I’m a week late,” I shared. “I was going to stop by the drugstore on the way home but the weather was nasty so I decided to do it tomorrow.”
It seemed stiff somehow when Coert asked, “Are you ever late?”
“No.”
He remained still and unmoving, and I did too, until he seemed to sag against the doorjamb but he did it without taking his eyes from me.
“I cannot believe you told me you might be carrying my baby while you’re lying on the floor in our closet with our dog.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything until I knew for sure but you were being paternal so it just slipped out.”
Coert raised a brow. “Threatening criminal charges against asshole animal abusers is being paternal?”
“Taking care of your baby, no matter what form she comes in, even if she’s covered in fur . . . yes, it absolutely is.”
His eyes traveled my body before they came back to mine.
And when those hazel eyes hit mine, they warmed every inch of my body.
“You might have told me you’re having my baby while lying on the floor of our closet with our dog, but I’m not kissing you after you tell me that while you’re lying on the floor with our dog so, Cady, baby, could you kindly get your sweet ass over here?”
I gave Midnight a stroke, got to my feet and walked to Coert.
He slid his arms around me so tight, it was a wonder they didn’t wrap around twice. This meant I was held so close to him, I felt my flesh bunch at the back of my neck in order to look up at him.
“Do you want me to go out and get a test?” he asked softly.
In this weather?
No way.
“I don’t want you to go anywhere,” I answered in the same vein.
“Do you know how happy I am?” he went on.
“I know it’s probably not a good idea to get too excited. It could be a false alarm. We haven’t been trying that long. We should take a test and then get it confirmed with my doctor,” I replied.
“I’m not talking about that, though it doesn’t need to be said that a baby would just make that better.”
Oh my God.
I closed my eyes.
I wouldn’t have imagined I could get closer to him but his words made me melt right into him so much it was a wonder we didn’t fuse.
Still, I opened my eyes and fretted, “Do you think Janie will be okay with it?”
“I think if she shocks the shit outta me not being okay with it, we’ll find a way to make her okay with it.”
I still fretted, even though I knew he was right.
“Okay, then do you think you can kiss me now?” I requested.
His lips tipped up, his eyes got warm (or warmer) and his lips came down to mine.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “I can kiss you now.”
He started to kiss me but it was interrupted by the doorbell going.
He didn’t let me go but he did lift his head to look toward the wall beyond which was the hall, his brows knitting.
“A freeze is coming and there are weather advisories everywhere,” I said. “Who, outside a vet on an emergency house call, could be out in that?”
“Is your brother still in Denver?” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Anyone else wo
uld call,” he muttered as the doorbell went again and then we heard the hammering. “Shit,” he hissed, gave me a squeeze but didn’t let me go.
He looked over my shoulder at Midnight.
“I’ll stay with her,” I told him.
He looked down at me, nodded, bent to me, touched his lips to my nose, then let me go.
I watched him disappear and then I moved back to Midnight. I squatted and ran my hand over her, feeling her chest rise and fall with her breathing, finding her heartbeat and knowing how sedated she was because no one would even get close to the door without a bark or at least a woof.
Her eyes were closed so I suspected she was sleeping.
I then wondered how Midnight would take to a new member of the household.
I wondered this for about two seconds. Considering how she was when she met Janie, I figured she’d like it a lot.
I was on my behind, in the midst of taking my boots off, doing this smiling, when I heard shouted, “I’ll fucking have your fucking badge!”
Midnight didn’t even lift her head.
Quickly, my heart racing as I heard Coert’s low murmur of a reply, I checked for her breathing again just in case something went wrong with the injection, felt it coming steady, then I took off on stocking feet out the door.
“You’ll leave on your own or you’ll do it in handcuffs, your choice, Stone,” Coert said as I kept my eyes glued to his broad back where he was standing in the foyer while hurrying down the stairs.
Stone?
Boston Stone?
Boston Stone was here?
“Using county resources to investigate commercial entities because your girlfriend doesn’t want to live next to a hotel will be interesting to the County Commission.”
“First, she’s not my girlfriend, she’s my fiancée,” Coert corrected as I moved in behind him only for him to shift without even looking back at me, and he shifted in a way that told me he wanted me to stay behind him.
So even if I moved slightly to his side, I did it staying behind him.
And it was then I saw the man who was two steps into our foyer was tall, dark haired and quite handsome.
But the furious look on his face, the mean in his eyes, and the hardness of his mouth meant he wasn’t that handsome.
Not to mention he was too slick. I’d never been attracted to slick men.
Then again, I’d only ever really been attracted to Coert, so . . .
His eyes flicked to me then went back to Coert.
“I’d congratulate you on the advancement of your relationship but I don’t give a fuck,” he snapped.
“Do not use that language in front of my fiancé,” Coert bit out.
I did my best to have no reaction to Coert demanding this when he freely cursed in front of me and just stayed close to his back, eyes on Boston Stone.
“My apologies, Ms. Moreland,” Boston Stone said to me snidely.
“Second,” Coert rapped out and Stone’s attention cut back to him. “I’m an elected official. I answer to the citizens of this county, not the County Commission. So although they might be interested in your bullshit for the sake of curiosity at how deep that bullshit can get, even if there was an issue, which there isn’t, they can’t do dick about it.”
“You leaked private affairs of one of your citizens you illegally investigated using county resources to the press, which is impeachable,” Stone declared.
“Are you making this up as you go along?” Coert asked derisively.
“I’m not certain the State Supreme Court will find this as disinteresting as you do when they hear it prosecuted,” Stone retorted, these words making me put my hand to the small of Coert’s back.
“Coert didn’t leak anything,” I piped up. “If you’re angry about someone finding out your plans before you could push them through under the noses of the people of Magdalene, you should talk to the people who shared about them freely. You shouldn’t show up at the doorstep of the sheriff to harass and threaten him.”
“If it was someone finding out, I’d still be talking to them. But before I fired them, they shared it was the sheriff finding out.”
“I didn’t identify myself as the sheriff,” Coert stated, and I pressed my hand into his back because I didn’t think it was good he said that.
And Stone pounced right on it. “So you admit to calling?”
“It isn’t illegal to call architecture firms to ask if any plans for the development of the Magdalene parkland were being drawn up,” Coert retorted.
“They told me they wouldn’t have shared if it wasn’t a person of authority.”
“That might be so but I didn’t identify myself as the sheriff or mislead them by stating I was phoning as part of an investigation,” Coert returned.
“Then it’s a ‘they said, you said’ situation and you can use your version as your defense during your impeachment hearing,” Stone fired back.
“I phoned them on my cell so my name will come up on caller ID and it isn’t hard to find out I’m the sheriff of Derby County. But even if I did tell them I was the sheriff, me making inquiries about what might be happening on land that’s under my jurisdiction would not be improper. Considering inquiries had already been made about reclassifying that land, I’d say it’s not only not improper, it’s also my job to know what’s happening in my county. But I didn’t call as the sheriff. If they’re trying to cover their asses by talking shit about how they shared openly with a random caller about a client’s business, that’s their problem. But me making a phone call is not an impeachable offense. And me making this kind of phone call to be thorough in understanding what’s happening in my jurisdiction is part of what I’ve been elected to do.”
“Then you attempting to get re-elected next year after it’s shared widely Magdalene’s lighthouse was saved by the ill-gotten gains of a gold digger who married an old, sick man in order to inherit all his money, and then you married her will be an interesting proposition. But I’d suggest you start looking for alternate employment now. I hear there’s always need for mall cops in Blakely.”
I felt Coert’s body tighten under my hand.
I did not get tight.
I moved instantly around Coert but he caught me with an arm around my stomach and pulled me back to his body.
So I used my mouth.
“You need to go,” I advised.
“I’m not sure you’re a threat,” Boston Stone said, lip curled.
“I’m not the threat,” I told him.
He lifted his brows. “Are you saying the sheriff is threatening me?”
“I’m saying if he was, he’d have every right to do that considering you’re in his home and you’ve been asked to leave at least once and you’ve not left but instead stayed, continuing to harass him, threaten him and say foul things with the intent to bait him.”
“You should have called me about the lighthouse, Ms. Moreland,” he said ominously.
“Get over it,” I shot back. “And also leave.”
He did not leave. He continued pushing.
And he did it leaned toward me, his face moving from snide to spiteful. “I’m going to ruin you and I’m going to ruin your fiancé.”
Ruin me?
I’d already ruined myself, more than once.
And now . . .
Now the only people that it mattered what they thought knew me and loved me.
I was untouchable.
Coert, on the other hand, was sheriff. So he was not.
Still, this man was acting like a villain in a Victorian drama.
It would have been funny if it wasn’t so irritating.
I mean, I’d just told Coert I might be pregnant, for goodness sake!
What Coert said next shared he agreed with me.
“Christ, you’re a joke. Just go, would you? Jesus,” Coert drawled impassively.
Stone leaned back with surprise drifting over his features and looked at Coert.
“You wanna report me to
the County Commission? Do it,” Coert invited. “You wanna try to impeach me? Try it. You wanna spread malicious gossip about Cady in an attempt to make me lose the next election? Go for it. The only person who thinks you have any leverage anymore is you, Stone. Everyone already thinks you’re a snake. You want them to think you’re a fool too, it isn’t me that’s gonna stop you. It’s just me who’s gonna say you got five seconds to walk out my front door before, honest to God, just because I’m sick of you boring me, I’m putting you in cuffs, arresting you for trespassing since I didn’t invite your ass into my house, you shoved in, and I’m having a deputy come pick you up. Your choice. But trust me, I’m bein’ very serious.”
“I’m being very serious too,” Stone spat.
“I don’t really care,” Coert replied.
Stone scowled at him.
Coert adjusted me so he was holding me casually at his side and when Stone continued to scowl at him, he sighed.
“Cady, my cuffs are in my gun belt in the closet. You wanna get them for me? And check Midnight while you’re up there.”
“The Magdalene Park project is moving forward,” Stone declared.
“You beat down the injunction or we lose the election to recall the rezoning come November, you’re right,” Coert returned. “It probably is. Monsters who feed on greed like you win a lot, and it doesn’t matter what devastation lies in their wake, as long as they can jot their win on whatever messed-up mental tally they got in their head, it’s all the same to them. The joke’s still on you because you think you’re building a legacy when history will record it as Stone’s folly or nothing at all. So whatever. Jot your win. But don’t delude yourself you’re writing the Declaration of Independence. Whatever you got planned is the same as a strip mall. It’ll come and it’ll go but that lighthouse will be that lighthouse until it crumbles to the earth. There won’t be any plaques with your name on them put up in stone a hundred years after you die. Way you’re goin’, when you’re gone, no one will give a shit at all.”
The Time in Between Page 54
