A slight red mark abraded the tender flesh. A mark he himself had left there only hours earlier as they’d made love.
He’d been her first.
Zeke hadn’t expected that or the sudden attack of conscience that had finally driven him from his own bed. He’d known how shy Mollie could be and that she didn’t date much, but he’d never guessed she was a virgin. But the shock of that hadn’t been enough to make him stop. Not that first time or later in the night when they’d made love again.
He didn’t know what time it was when he eased away from the warmth of Mollie’s body. He’d intended to do no more than get some water from the kitchen, but somehow he’d ended up on his back patio, sitting on the steps and staring at the sun creeping over the horizon.
The location hadn’t escaped his attention or done anything to ease his guilt. He’d sat in that same spot with Patrick on his last visit home. He had tried on that final day to get his friend to open up about the shadows in his eyes, the distance he felt even when Patrick was sitting right beside him.
Don’t worry about me, man.
You’re my best friend, Patrick. I want you to take care of yourself over there.
Looking out for myself... Patrick had given a short laugh. That is the one thing I’m good at.
Patrick—
You want to do something for me? Take care of Mollie...
If Patrick knew what Zeke had done—
He shoved the thought from his mind as he pushed forward. He couldn’t think about that now. Adding another layer of guilt to the load he carried would likely crush him.
The two of them had barely talked since meeting Matt at the garage to pick up one of Bobby’s T-shirts. Matt had wanted to join them on the search, but Zeke had encouraged the other man to go over to the Doyles’ house. Mollie had called the Whitaker sisters, as well, who had immediately offered to pick up Charlie from the shelter and take her back home to be with Amy as she waited for news.
None of them wanted to voice their fears about how bad the news might be.
Mollie stumbled slightly as Arti jerked on the leash, doubling back to go over the same small patch of ground she’d already spent five minutes sniffing. Frustrated, he rubbed the back of his hand across his sweating forehead. He understood the need to do something, but this?
Sure, he’d seen what the dog could do, but finding Mollie—Arti’s human and the person the dog was most attached to—right outside her own backyard was one thing.
Finding a total stranger in vast acres of wilderness... That was something else.
He opened his mouth, ready to suggest they head back, when Mollie knelt down beside her dog. She held the T-shirt out again. “Go find, Arti. You can do it, baby girl. I know you can.”
Her voice shook as she wrapped an arm around her dog’s neck and Arti turned her head to give her mistress’s face a quick lick, almost as if offering comfort.
Dammit, if anyone should be comforting Mollie...
But when he bent down to help her to her feet, Mollie instantly pulled away. She glared at him even as she wiped the tears Arti had missed from her freckled cheeks. “Don’t,” she warned. “We’re not going back. We’re not giving up.”
“We’re not giving up, but Mollie, we don’t even know if we’re on the right track.”
“Arti knows!” she insisted. “And I—” Her voice cracked on the word, and for a split second her face started to crumple. “I saw Amy yesterday. She gave me a hug to thank me for helping Bobby and told me how amazing I was. I can’t give up, Zeke, I just can’t!”
“Okay, Mollie, we’ll keep going.” Swinging the pack off his back, he unzipped it and handed her a bottle of water. He didn’t know if they would find Bobby or not, but he wanted to be prepared either way. “You won’t be doing Bobby any good if you pass out out here.”
She looked ready to argue but nodded instead. She gulped down half the bottle and then pulled out a collapsible vinyl bowl from her back pocket for Arti and poured out the rest of the water for her dog.
For the next minute, the only sound was Arti eagerly lapping up the lukewarm liquid. Once the dog finished, Mollie folded up the bowl. She let the dog sniff the T-shirt again before determinedly commanding the dog to find.
“Did Amy say anything when you talked to her on the phone?” she asked, her words rising and falling as they stepped up and over knee-high boulders and thick bushes. “Any explanation for what might have set Bobby off? She was so happy when I saw her at the store, and I thought—”
“What?”
“I really thought Charlie had done it, you know?” An ache of tears filled her voice. “That she was enough to help Bobby adjust to being back home.”
Zeke caught her by the arm and forced her to look at him. “Listen to me! This is not your fault. You did an amazing job training Charlie. I wanted to think it would be enough, too, and I’m the one trained to help people. I couldn’t help Bobby...”
The guilt that had been festering for so long started spilling out. He’d tried to bury the emotion, but now it was like a landslide, and everything he’d piled on only added to the relentless, destructive deluge hurtling straight toward him. “Just like I couldn’t help Patrick.”
Mollie stilled at his touch, freezing at the shock of his words, and Zeke could feel the chill right down to his soul. “What do you mean you couldn’t help Patrick?”
“His last visit home I knew something was bothering him, but I couldn’t get him to talk to me.” He’d been too busy with his own problems to see how badly his friend, his best friend, needed help. He’d let Patrick go back to his unit, to the danger-filled job of being a soldier, without getting him to face whatever had been troubling him. “If I had—”
“Zeke, no. You can’t blame yourself!”
A pleading note had entered Mollie’s voice, and her eyes, so wide and wounded in her pale face, were begging him to deny the truth he’d known since Patrick’s death. A truth he couldn’t hide from her anymore even though she would never forgive him.
He didn’t deserve Mollie’s forgiveness. He didn’t deserve Mollie.
“I let him go back even though I knew something big—something bad—was weighing on his mind. I let him go, Mollie, and I got him killed.”
Chapter Fourteen
Oh, God...
“Zeke... You can’t think that!” Shock and guilt crashed through Mollie at the pain etched across his ravaged features. “You can’t!”
His shoulders dropped and his head fell back as he stared unseeing at the towering trees overhead. A shudder racked his tall frame as he sucked in a shaky breath, and Mollie’s heart ached at the sound. She hadn’t seen him so distraught, so vulnerable since—
Since Patrick’s death.
For two years, he’d been carrying around the grief and guilt that looked ready to crush him now. All because of the secret she’d kept.
You weren’t protecting Zeke. You were protecting yourself...
Lilah’s accusation seemed to echo throughout the nature preserve until Mollie wanted to throw her hands over her ears to block out the sound. But the truth couldn’t be silenced.
Mollie had been protecting herself. Protecting the friendship that had meant so much to her for over a decade. Patrick, Zeke and Mollie. It had always been the three of them, and Lilah’s presence had already driven a wedge between them before Patrick’s last trip home. Mollie had been so afraid to do anything that might change the small spot she occupied in his life.
She was still afraid. Wasn’t that why she’d settled for friendship for so many years rather than telling Zeke how she truly felt? Willing to accept what little she could get instead of taking a risk and reaching for it all? Always just tagging along...
And now, in trying to protect herself, she’d hurt Zeke in ways she couldn’t imagine.
“What happened
to Patrick was not your fault. None of it was your fault!”
Shaking his head, he scraped a rough hand through his damp hair. “I know what I saw in Patrick on that last visit home. He was...troubled, Mollie. Maybe you didn’t see it. Patrick never wanted to let you or your parents see how haunted he was by the things he’d seen...the things he’d done...”
It was true that Mollie didn’t know much about Patrick’s life as a soldier. He’d always wanted to protect her just like she had wanted to protect him...and to protect Zeke. All of them keeping secrets with the best of intentions and the worst of results.
“I wanted to help him. I tried but—I failed. If whatever was bothering him made him careless, made him take chances he shouldn’t have been taking—”
Mollie planted her palm straight in Zeke’s chest. “Patrick was your best friend, but he was also my brother! I know he could be reckless at times, and I have no doubt he risked his life—probably on a daily basis—because that was what the army asked of him. But he had every intention of coming back home. Who do you think gave me the idea of training Arti for scent work?”
She waved a hand at the hound, straining at the end of the leash. “Patrick was so impressed with the K-9 units overseas. It was something he wanted to get involved in when he got out of the service. We were going to expand the business and work together. That was his plan for the future, and we talked about it all of the time, even during that last visit home. Right up to the days before he died.”
Zeke was silent for a moment, as if letting her words sink in. “Patrick never told me any of that.”
“He didn’t tell you everything,” Mollie said, hollowly. Including the secret she’d been keeping. Tell him the truth...
“Zeke, that last time Patrick came home—”
Mollie didn’t have a chance to say more as the wind shifted and Arti let out a sudden, startling howl. Mollie stumbled as the dog surged forward, nearly pulling the leash from her grasp and jerking her right off her feet. She had little choice but to follow, her tennis shoes pounding against the rocky pathway at a full run as she tried to keep up with the hound.
Zeke’s longer legs kept stride as he jogged beside her. “Do you think—”
“I don’t know,” she said, even as she whispered a prayer that Arti had found the missing man and that Bobby was all right. His family was so worried, and Zeke—
If Bobby didn’t make it, Zeke would never forgive himself...like he had never forgiven himself for Patrick.
And that was all her fault.
Up ahead, the pathway curved to the left, but instead of making the turn, Arti lunged into the bushes on the right and disappeared.
“Mollie...”
She heard the doubt in Zeke’s voice, but she wasn’t giving up. Not on Arti and not on Bobby. He had to be okay. He just had to be. “I think she’s scented on something, Zeke. I really do.”
She ducked beneath the branches of an oak tree, wincing as low-growing bushes scraped at her skin. The leash was pulled as taut as a tightrope as Mollie tried to follow the route her dog had taken. Arti’s howls increased, and the clamoring sound had Mollie ignoring the slight sting to dive deeper into the underbrush. She stumbled slightly on the downward slope but kept pushing forward. She heard Zeke thrashing through the brush behind her, having a harder time maneuvering his larger frame through the dense growth.
“Mollie!” Frustration filled his voice. “Wait for me.”
But she didn’t dare slow down. Not when it would mean giving up hope that Arti had found Bobby. Not when stopping would mean she had no choice but to tell Zeke the truth.
She almost fell again as Arti changed direction, cutting back toward the right and leaping over a fallen log. She stumbled after the dog, rough wood scraping her palms as she scrambled over a tree at the bottom of a ravine.
Her shoulders dropped as Arti sat back on her haunches, and she feared the dog had lost the scent, but then Arti tipped her long-eared head back and howled.
Chills ran down Mollie’s spine. As a hound dog, Arti was rarely silent. She barked at squirrels, at birds, at mailmen. She barked when it was time to eat and whenever Mollie hinted at the word walk. But as noisy as the dog was, Mollie recognized all of those barks. This howl that meant she’d locked in on the scent.
At first, Mollie didn’t see anything other than the shades of green and brown underbrush at the bottom of the ravine, but then a hint of black caught her eye. Black rubber soles. Black leather boots. The camouflage fatigues blended in with the forest floor, but then Mollie made out the shape of a fallen man.
“Zeke!” She grabbed his arm as he skidded to a stop beside her in a small landslide of loose dirt, rocks and leaves. “There!” Mollie crossed her arms over her stomach, sick with worry as Zeke knelt by Bobby’s side. “Is he...” She couldn’t get the words out as she prayed they weren’t too late.
“He’s breathing. His pulse is steady.” She watched as Zeke checked the unconscious man’s vitals. “He’s got a contusion on his forehead. Probably from the fall.”
Even as Zeke spoke, Bobby let out a low groan, the sound the best thing Mollie had heard since Arti’s exuberant howl. Kneeling down by her dog, Mollie ran her hands over her beloved hound’s silky ears. “Good girl, Arti. Such a good girl,” she praised as she pulled out the small bag of dried liver treats the dog lived for—a reward for a job well done.
“Take it easy,” Zeke was telling Bobby as the other man tried to sit up. “You took a pretty big fall. We need to make sure you don’t have any broken bones before you try to move. Does anything hurt?”
As Zeke slowly helped Bobby into a sitting position, Mollie could see how pale he was, his ashen skin a stark contrast to the purplish bruise and swelling above his eye. “My head’s killing me...and my ankle’s throbbing something fierce.”
Zeke pushed up the man’s pants leg to reveal the swelling starting right above the top of his boot. “You probably have a concussion and either a serious sprain or even a break in that ankle. Do you remember what happened?”
“I was out with Charlie and—Charlie!” Despite the knot on his forehead and twisted ankle, Bobby immediately tried to push to his feet. “I have to find her!”
Zeke clamped a hand on Bobby’s shoulder. “She’s okay. She’s already been found and is safe in a shelter in Asheville.”
“I called the Whitakers on the way over here,” Mollie told him. “They offered to pick Charlie up and to take her back to your house where she belongs.”
“That’s—” Bobby had to clear his throat before finishing. “That’s good. If anything happened to her—”
“She’s fine,” Zeke reassured him, “and you were going to tell us how you fell.”
Bobby winced as he touched his forehead. “I haven’t been here in years, but I used to come out early when everything’s still so quiet and peaceful. I had this idea about seeing the sunrise.” He gave a short laugh. “But it was a helluva lot darker out here than I remembered, and when I hit a patch of loose rocks along the trail... Next thing I knew I was rolling down the side of this ravine, and then everything really went dark.”
A sheepish expression on his face, he added, “It was stupid, I know, not to have left a note to tell Amy where I was going and... Oh, God. Amy must be thinking the worst.”
“She was worried,” Zeke confirmed, “but she’s going to be so happy that you’re safe and sound.”
“I really am, you know,” the vet said, looking from Zeke to Mollie and back again. “That’s why I wanted to come out here at sunrise. Because it feels like I’ve got this fresh start. A new lease—” he grinned as he looked over at Arti “—or maybe it’s a new leash on life.”
Zeke chuckled at the corny pun. “I’m sure Amy will be thrilled to hear that.” Glancing over at Mollie, he said, “Cell service should be better once you’re out of the reserve.”
“I’ll call Amy and call for an ambulance, as well,” she said over Bobby’s protests that he could make it out on his own.
Pushing to his feet, Zeke handed her another bottle of water. He smiled at her, but she could still see the shadows lingering in his eyes. “Take Arti with you to make sure you can find your way.”
Mollie nodded even though she knew her heart would always find its way back to Zeke. But once she told him the truth, she would be the one suffering from the greatest loss. She was going to lose Zeke’s friendship. She was going to lose Zeke. She was going to lose...everything.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Zeke followed the emergency responders up the incline. He’d filled them in on Bobby’s vitals since he and Mollie had found the other man. The blue-uniformed EMTs were more than capable. They’d stabilized Bobby’s left leg in an air cast before transferring him to a stretcher—despite the vet’s complaints—and maneuvering their way back up the ravine. Even so, it wasn’t easy for Zeke to take a step back. He felt responsible for Bobby.
He felt responsible. Period.
What happened to Patrick was not your fault.
He’d felt certain that once Mollie knew the truth, she would hate him for failing her brother. And yet, what had she done? She’d not only forgiven him, but she’d reassured him that there was nothing to forgive.
Zeke closed his eyes for a moment, picturing the future his friend had been planning. Mollie and Patrick working together, expanding her business, training more dogs like Arti, helping more people like Bobby...
All of it sounded like just the kind of thing Patrick would have lived for.
Was Mollie right? Had only a cruel twist of fate—something beyond Patrick’s control, something beyond Zeke’s control—robbed Patrick of that future?
“Zeke...”
Not Just the Girl Next Door Page 16
