Forever After

by Catherine Anderson

  When Meredith went to the kitchen and sat down across from Sammy at the table, she found another dog hair in her oatmeal. “Sammy, has Goliath been coming over to visit with you through the fence while you’re playing outside?”

  Holding a spoonful of cereal poised halfway to her mouth, Sammy gazed across the table at Meredith with guileless blue eyes. “No, Mommy.”

  While scooping the short black hair from her dish, Meredith observed her daughter, who looked as innocent as an angel. Maybe a little too innocent.

  “Have you been letting Goliath in the house at night?” she asked gently.

  “No, Mommy.”

  Meredith had never caught her daughter in a lie, and she had no reason to believe the child might be fibbing now. Even so, she looked deeply into Sammy’s eyes, searching for…what? Some sign of duplicity? She was dealing with a little girl who wouldn’t turn five for several more weeks, not an accomplished liar.

  “Sweetheart…”

  Meredith hesitated. She couldn’t spout dire warnings. Did she want the child to be terrified to go outdoors? “Hmm,” she mused, looking back down at her bowl. “This is too weird. I guess you’re still picking up dog hair on your clothes when you play outside.”

  Sammy hunched her shoulders, looking as bewildered as Meredith felt.

  “Well, so much for my finishing breakfast,” Meredith said with a sigh. “Somehow, a dog hair in my mush doesn’t do great things for my appetite.”

  A few minutes later Meredith settled down at her desk to put in her daily four hours working. Telephone solicitation was a dead-end, no-brainer job, and no matter how she tried, she couldn’t muster much enthusiasm. But working in computer programming, the field she loved, simply wasn’t possible right now, not when she had an emotionally unstable little girl who needed her mother at home. Sammy had just been taken from the only world she’d ever known and plopped smack-dab in the middle of an unfamiliar one. She needed time—time to heal and time to forget.

  Later when Sammy was stronger and able to attend school, Meredith would return to her field. There were mail order places where she could purchase a fake diploma to get her foot in the door at a company, and once there, her experience would carry her. For now, though, she was content to call strangers and book them for a free carpet shampoo, compliments of Miracle Kleen. For every shampooer her customers purchased from the sales rep who did the demonstrations, Meredith received a commission. She wasn’t getting rich, but the paychecks kept the wolves from their door.

  As she was making her first phone call of the morning, Meredith noticed several dog hairs on her desk blotter. Seeing them stunned her.

  “Hello?”

  The irritated voice at the other end of the line startled Meredith into speech. “Uh, hello, Mrs. Christiani? This is Meredith Kenyon, your local Miracle Kleen representative. My company’s offering a few carefully selected dogs in Wynema Falls a free carpet cle—”

  Before Meredith could say more, the woman hung up in her ear.

  Two nights later, Meredith was jerked from a sound sleep by a piercing scream. Then, “Mommy! Mommy!”

  Accustomed to her daughter’s nightmares, Meredith was on her feet before she came fully awake. Not taking time to search for her slippers, she raced through the house, tugging on the chenille robe she’d grabbed from the foot of her bed.

  “I’m here, sweetie!” she cried as she flung open Sammy’s bedroom door and flipped on the light. “It’s okay, punkin. Mommy’s—”

  Meredith’s words died in her throat, and she reeled to a halt. Heath Masters’ dog lay in the middle of her daughter’s bed, a hulking black presence. Meredith glanced at the double-hung window, which had been pushed open, then jerked her gaze back to her daughter, who was hugging the dog’s stout neck, her tear damp face pressed against his ruff. The Rottweiler lay with one foreleg curled over Sammy as if to return her hug, his massive head resting on her shoulder, his jowls dripping drool down the back of her pink pajama top. Every time Sammy sobbed, the dog whined softly, snuffling the child’s hair and licking her ear.

  Always before, it had been Meredith’s job to comfort Sammy when she awoke from a nightmare. Now, it seemed, Heath Masters’ Rottweiler had assumed that role.

  Amazement coursed through Meredith. How many times had Sammy let the dog in? Judging by the way she clung to Goliath, the two had done some serious bonding.

  Meredith took a cautious step toward the bed. Goliath emitted a low, rumbling growl. Meredith stopped and hugged her waist, her gaze fixed on those gleaming white fangs. Oh, God. She had no doubt that the dog would leap on her if she went closer.

  Gathering all her courage, Meredith took another step. Goliath’s snarl gained force, seeming to vibrate the walls. She pressed a hand to her throat, afraid to move. In a frenzy, the Rottweiler might turn on Sammy. The only things Meredith had in the house to use as weapons were a butcher knife and a tack hammer, and it would take her at least a full minute to go get either one.

  She retreated to the kitchen and ran to the wall phone. By the light from Sammy’s room, she could see well enough to find Heath Masters’ phone number.

  He answered on the second ring, sounding surprisingly alert. “Masters, here.”

  “Get over here! Your dog is in bed with my daughter! I can’t get close to her!”

  “Meredith?”

  The fact that he’d somehow learned her name barely registered. Throwing a frightened glance over her shoulder to make sure the dog hadn’t begun devouring her child, she cried, “Of course! Who else would be calling you at two in the morning?”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  The line went dead. Hanging up, Meredith pressed her back to the wall, wondering how long it might take him to get there. Five minutes?

  Shaking and almost beside herself, she ran her hands into her hair. Oh, dear heaven, her hair! She couldn’t answer the door like this.

  She charged to the bathroom. In her hurry, she knocked the contact case off the counter. One side popped open. Falling to her knees, she carefully palmed the linoleum for the lost bit of fragile plastic. She had a spare set of lenses, but she couldn’t recall which drawer she’d stuck them in. Oh, God, please…

  She nearly sobbed with relief when she finally found the lens. Then she almost lost it down the drain as she rinsed it off. After popping the colored disks into her eyes, she groped for her dark wig, jerked it on her head, then reached for her generously padded bra. At just that second, a loud knock resounded through the house.

  Heath Masters looked bigger than life when she saw him standing on her rickety porch, his partially buttoned uniform shirt revealing an expanse of well-muscled, deeply bronzed chest, his faded jeans encasing powerful legs that seemed to stretch forever. Dim light fell across him, casting his dark, chiseled features in shadow and glistening in the sleep-rumpled waves of sable hair that curled loosely over his forehead.

  Slate blue eyes still bleary with sleep, he asked, “Where is he?”

  Meredith stepped back and beckoned him inside. “Careful of the flowerpots.”

  She led him to the kitchen, where two rectangles of light spilled across the floor, one from the bathroom, the other from Sammy’s bedroom.

  “They’re in there. Sammy had a nightmare. When I went in, there he was.”

  Heath stepped to the doorway. After taking in the situation, he bent to pat his knee. “Goliath! Come here, buddy.”

  When Meredith heard the dog leap off the bed, she expelled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She backed away when Heath led his dog to the kitchen.

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said as he tugged the dog past her.

  Meredith ran to her daughter. After checking to make sure Sammy was all right, she tucked her back under the covers. “I’ll be back in just a minute. Okay, sweetness?”

  Sammy, who seemed to have recovered with record speed from her bad dream, caught Meredith’s hand. “Don’t be mad at G’liath, Mommy. I’m
the one who sneaked.”

  Meredith reached down to smooth her daughter’s hair. “Oh, Sammy…”

  “I di’n’t fib. Honest, Mommy. You asked if I let him in, ’member? All I done was open the window. G’liath comed in all by hisself.”

  “I see.” Meredith looked deeply into her child’s eyes. Little angels, it seemed, could be as duplicitous as adults. “And why didn’t you just tell me that?”

  “’Cause you was scared.” Sammy wrinkled her nose. “You di’n’t really build a fence to keep the cows away. You fibbed, di’n’t you, Mommy? It was for G’liath.”

  Meredith felt heat creeping up her neck. She couldn’t chastise Sammy for fibbing when she’d done it herself. “Well…we’ll talk more about this in the morning, all right?”

  “Do I gots to sit in the corner?”

  Meredith sighed and drew the covers more snugly under Sammy’s chin. “No. I’ll probably let this slide. But we must have a discussion about your splitting hairs.”

  “I di’n’t split ’em, Mommy. More just comed off G’liath and got all over. I think, maybe, ’cause G’liath likes to lay in the tub.”

  The bathtub? Little wonder she’d been finding hair in her bathroom. That horrible dog had been wandering loose in her house? The thought made Meredith shiver.

  “We’ll definitely have a long talk about this in the morning,” she told Sammy softly. “Right now, though, I have to see Sheriff Masters to the door. Okay?”

  “I’m in trouble, huh?”

  Gazing down into her child’s worried eyes, Meredith couldn’t hold onto her anger. “No, sweetkins, you’re not in trouble. Finding Goliath in here just caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

  “The sher’ff man was right, Mommy. Goliath loves little girls, and he was lonesome for a friend. Now he’s my ’tector, like for fires and stuff.”

  Recalling Sammy’s initial terror of the dog, Meredith could scarcely credit this. “How did you figure out that he wanted a friend?” she couldn’t resist asking.

  “He told me.” Sammy plucked at her quilt. “In dog talk. He comed to the window and scratched, and told me. Then he gived me kisses through the glass till I wasn’t scared he’d bite me no more. Will you tell him g’night for me?”

  “Absolutely.” Good night and good riddance. Meredith bent to press a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “No more nightmares, okay? Just sweet dreams.”

  As she left the bedroom, Meredith drew the door closed behind her. Turning to face Heath Masters, she flipped on the light switch by the refrigerator, then hugged her waist. A sharp edge of torn linoleum jabbed the underside of her big toe, and she sucked in a surprised breath, the faint scent of musk aftershave drifting to her.

  Nice, she thought, then scowled. This man was an enemy and presently stood in her kitchen like a tree that had put down roots, the chipped yellow tabletop not quite reaching his hip. Tongue lolling, Goliath sat at his feet, so well behaved he might have been a poster dog for obedience training. She couldn’t decide which of them to watch.

  “I’m really sorry about this,” he said.

  After the fright the dog had given her, Meredith wanted to give him what for, but caution won out. Her goal was to live here in obscurity, not start a feud.

  He studied her as he might a puzzle piece that wouldn’t quite fit. He was undeniably handsome, his tousled dark hair lending him an untamed, hard-edged aura she might have found appealing back in her young and reckless college days. With that bronze skin and those strong, sharply cut features he could have Indian ancestry, she decided. The type of man portrayed in those “silk and savage” historical romances, where the towering, muscular half-breed captured a trembling white girl and made love to her in his tee-pee—and under the stars, and along streams, and in caves, and on horseback. In her pre-Dan days, Meredith had adored those stories.

  These days, being overpowered and crushed in a steely embrace, kissed senseless, and then carried over a broad shoulder to a tee-pee ranked much lower on her list—three pages or so down—from getting a root canal without Novocaine.

  She hauled in a deep breath, feeling oddly faint. As if the dog sensed her uneasiness, it whined. She glanced down into the saddest, most apologetic brown eyes she’d ever seen. Lunacy. Dogs were incapable of feeling regret.

  “Mr. Masters, please don’t take this wrong. But this situation can’t continue. Your dog wouldn’t let me near my daughter. What if she’d been hurt and needed medical attention?” Hugging her waist more tightly, she made fists on the chenille of her robe. “I don’t want to be difficult. But if this happens again, I’ll have to file a complaint.”

  “I realize that.” He bent to fondle his dog’s ear. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He’s always been protective of kids, sometimes to a fault, but not without reason.”

  Meredith bit the inside of her cheek. The last time this dog misbehaved, he’d tried to make excuses. “Protective? Sammy doesn’t need protection. I’m her mother.”

  Keeping a hold on the dog’s collar, he straightened. “I’m as baffled as you are.”

  “You’re also trying to justify the dog’s behavior. It’s like excusing a lion for eating its trainer because the poor thing was having a bad hair day.”

  “You’re not blameless, you know. It was your kid who let the dog in here. And Goliath isn’t a man-eater. Your daughter’s still in once piece. Not a mark on her.”

  His observation sizzled in the air between them like a high-voltage wire.

  “Will you at least hear me out?” he asked.

  “I’m listening,” she managed to say with frigid calmness.

  “There’s something weird going on in this dog’s head.”

  She nearly laughed. Only it was too awful to be funny. “Perhaps you should take him to a dog psychiatrist. I’m not up on my canine psychoanalysis.”

  He narrowed one eye. That was it, just the narrowing of one eye. But it was all that was necessary. Six feet plus of furious male wasn’t high on Meredith’s list, either.

  “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. It’s just—” She pried her fingers loose from the chenille to wave her hand. “This is my house. And I wake up to find your dog in my daughter’s bed. And then he nearly attacks me? It’s a bit difficult to be blasé.”

  “I’m not asking that. Listening and trying to be rational would be nice, though.”

  Meredith curled her toe over the rough edge of linoleum. Unclenching her teeth, she said, “Rational?”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose, then rubbed his hand over his face. “Okay, my turn. That was uncalled for.” His firm mouth quirked at one corner. “Can we start all over? I won’t take shots if you won’t.”

  Meredith thought that sounded fair, which was, in and of itself, unprecedented in her dealings with men. “I’m willing. I don’t want this to be an adversarial situation.”

  “That makes two of us. This is no ordinary dog. He’s a decorated hero. Police departments around the country pay a thousand bucks for one of his pups without batting an eye. That’s the kind of record he’s got. And now he could wind up dead over a stupid misunderstanding. Trust me, I’m as worried as you are.”

  “Dead?” she echoed.

  “What the hell else do you think will happen if you file a complaint? He was a canine deputy, extensively trained. Dogs like that are dangerous if they turn mean.”

  “My point, exactly,” she said drily.

  He heaved a sigh. “This dog would never hurt a kid.”

  “I realize you believe that, but—”

  “I know that. I can’t count the times Goliath has gone on a domestic violence call with me, only to take off like a shot when we entered the house. I’d find him later, standing guard over the kids. In those situations, he always acted crazy, just like he did the other night. Sometimes he wouldn’t even let me get close—not until I called him off. He loves children, and when he acts this way, it’s because he believes something or someone is going to hurt them.”


  Meredith could only stand there, staring at him.

  “Look,” he said, raking a hand through his hair. “The dog’s acting crazy. I admit it. I’m only asking you to take a step back and help me figure out why. This is the second time he’s come down here and stood guard over your child. There has to be a reason, even if it’s not immediately apparent to either one of us.”

  Meredith shifted her attention back to the dog and once again found herself impaled by those apologetic brown eyes. Was Goliath acting crazy? She recalled the night she’d first met Heath and how he’d tried to excuse the animal’s behavior. She had pegged him as certifiably nuts. She no longer felt so sure. Dogs did have a sixth sense, and both times that Goliath had behaved viciously, Sammy had been terrified.

  Tonight the child had had a nightmare. She’d been panicky when Meredith first opened the door. Meredith couldn’t be certain what Sammy had been dreaming about, but she had a good idea. Had Goliath sensed the child’s terror, possibly even the cause of it, and reacted, warning Meredith away because he perceived she might be a threat? Incredible. Yet Heath Masters was implying exactly that, whether he realized it or not. And he knew nothing of Sammy’s history.

  A dizzy feeling swept over her, and she clenched her fists so tightly on the chenille that her knuckles ached. She couldn’t admit that the dog might have cause to feel protective. Keeping the past a secret was vital to their future.

  “At the risk of sounding unfeeling, I really don’t care why your dog has been acting the way he has,” she said softly. “I’ll leave understanding him to you.”

  Heath nodded. “I guess I can’t blame you for that.”

  “By the same token, I’d hate to see him put to sleep. That’d be a shame. I just don’t want him here. To that end, I’m willing to cooperate with you in any way I can.”