A Father's Pledge

by Eleanor Jones

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  For Love of a Dog

  by Janice Carter

  PROLOGUE

  “THAT’S A DOG.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Kai looked from the pathetic creature in the carrier crate to the young soldier. “I was asked to take back a package. No one said anything about a dog.”

  He cleared his throat. “Well, ma’am, this is the package. And he’s not just any dog. This here is Amigo.”

  “No, no. I can’t do this. And please don’t call me ma’am.”

  “Sorry, ma...miss, I assure you, it won’t be a problem. He has all the required papers for his passage to the States. You won’t have to do a thing...well, except collect him from baggage when you arrive in New York, and, uh, we’re hoping you can see that he gets to his final destination since those transport plans haven’t worked out.”

  “Sorry?”

  He had the grace to flush. “I apologize. A last-minute glitch.”

  “So what is the final destination?”

  “An address outside Newark, New Jersey.”

  “And how am I supposed to arrange that?” She was trying to toss any and every reason at him for not going through with this crazy request. A dog!

  “Um, if you don’t have your own vehicle, perhaps a taxi or one of those shuttle vans? We’ll be happy to reimburse any cost to you.”

  “We?”

  “All the guys in my squad—Captain Rossi’s men. We organized this for him.”

  “This is really too much...uh—” she squinted at his ID “—Corporal McDougall. I was expecting a small package that I could put into the mail when I got to the States. Not something alive.” She stared at the dog, his dark eyes peering up at her. Sad, chocolate-brown eyes. Kai looked back at the soldier. “I’m sorry, but there’s just no way.”

  The soldier’s face crumpled. For a horrifying second, Kai thought he might cry.

  “See—” he paused to clear his throat again “—when I say that Amigo isn’t just any dog, I really mean it. He and the Cap were almost predestined to get together. We were in this valley in Helmand, and one morning Amigo wandered into our camp. He was so skinny you could count every rib. One ear almost torn off—that one there, the right.”

  Kai followed his pointing finger. Sensing he was again the center of attention, the dog wearily raised his head. Kai noted the jagged edge of ear. He was pathetically thin. A village dog, typical of those she’d encountered in India and South Asia. Pale yellow-brown short hair, longish snout and white-tipped tail now tucked beneath his hind end. Not a dog someone would be drawn to in any pet store. Or anywhere else for that matter. But apparently this dog was special.

  “Your flight doesn’t leave for three hours. Could we have a coffee while I tell you all about Amigo and Captain Rossi?”

  Kai looked into his earnest blue eyes and felt herself relent. The captain was clearly special, but why the dog? Her curiosity won out. “All right, Corporal McDougall, lead the way.” She followed him as he pushed the trolley holding the dog in its crate, trying to stifle her resentment that, once again, she’d allowed herself to be soft-soaped into a situation she wanted no part of. You really have to learn to say no. She thought back to the American Embassy party in Kuwait City. Free-flowing Champagne and a heady conversation with a very attractive marine whose rank she couldn’t recall but who knew someone who needed a small favor if she was flying stateside from Frankfurt.

  After she heard the rest of McDougall’s story, she found herself returning to it hours later, ensconced in her Business Class seat courtesy of the magazine that had sent her to Kuwait.

  His account had been spare, omitting specific details of what had happened in that Afghan valley, explaining how the dog had been important to Luca Rossi and why his men had adopted him after their captain had been airlifted back to the States. But when he finished, she still didn’t see why the dog mattered so much that favors had been called in and promises made in order to expedite the paperwork needed to send it to Rossi. Likely she’d never know, and with any luck, the handover would go as smoothly as the check-in at Frankfurt.

  She closed her eyes, vaguely aware of a crying infant in Economy and blessed her generous contract one last time before falling asleep.

  * * *

  STANDING IN LINE while she waited for the dog’s paperwork to clear customs at LaGuardia, Kai was grateful for the good night’s sleep. Otherwise she might have been as cranky as the man in front of her whose impatience with the border agent had simply resulted in even more of a slowdown.

  The wait gave her an opportunity to use her cell phone to book a rental car from an outlet in the terminal. She Google mapped the address McDougall had given her and realized it wasn’t too far from Newark itself. Calculating distance and logistics—though if the line didn’t move any faster she’d have to do the math all over again—Kai figured she might make it to her own apartment in Brooklyn by late afternoon. Which would give her a chance to start editing some of the photos she’d shot in Kuwait.

  Her fingers hovered over her iPhone. She should also call her folks to let them know she was safely home. No. Maybe later, when she really was home.

  “Ms. Westfield?”

  Kai turned to see an airport employee with a cart holding the dog’s crate.

  “This your dog?”

  “Uh, well, yes. I’m in charge of the dog.”

  “Just need to make sure is all—wouldn’t want you to take the wrong animal.”

  She had to wonder how often that had happened. Wouldn’t people recognize their own pets? Unless they were too jet-lagged. Speaking of which, the dog didn’t look as though he’d enjoyed the flight as much as she had. He didn’t even bother raising his head from his forepaws.

  Kai signed the paper the man was holding. “Thanks.”

  “No problem. And, uh, you may not want to give him anything more than water for a bit. Seems the guy had a bout of air sickness. We had to hose his crate down, case you’re wondering why he’s a bit damp.” He waved a few fingers at her and the dog as he walked away.

  She took a second look, noticing the beads of moisture clinging to the dog’s back. Water. Food. Kai was beginning to realize she hadn’t factored the dog into her plans at all. Good thing that dog isn’t going home with me.

  Finally, it was her turn at customs and once again, the signature on Amigo’s papers raised an eyebrow and garnered an automatic clearance stamp. “Must be some special dog,” the officer commented.

  “Apparently,” Kai muttered, grabbed the documents and pushed the trolley through the security doors. By the time she ch
ecked in at the car rental, Kai knew her schedule was already way out of whack. She tried to quell the rising frustration.

  Remotely unlocking the SUV, she opened the rear hatch. It occurred to her that there was no way she’d be able to lift the dog into the vehicle while it was still in its crate. She looked around for a porter, kicking herself for not thinking of getting one as she left the terminal. Then she remembered the leash Corporal McDougall had handed her, together with a paper certifying the dog’s various vaccinations. “Helps to have a vet on base,” he’d mentioned, “and access to certain medical supplies.”

  She dug into her carry-on for the leash. “All right, you can do this, Kai Westfield. You’ve handled bigger critters than this sorry-looking mutt.” She unhitched the crate door and slowly opened it. “Easy boy,” she murmured. But instead of leaping into freedom, the dog crouched in the far corner. “Come on, boy. Just let me get this leash onto your collar.”

  The dog refused to cooperate, and Kai was reluctant to stick her hand into the crate any farther. She was afraid he might lunge at her, especially if he had been as deeply attached to the captain as McDougall had said. Her brother had once owned a dog like that, and it had eventually had to be put down as no one else in the family could handle it.

  “Maybe if we see eye to eye on this, buddy.” She sat on the pavement and peered into the open crate. The dog gave her a baleful look.

  “Some motivation, perhaps?” She rummaged around in her handbag till her fingers grasped the end of a granola bar. “Don’t know how old this thing is, but you probably won’t care.” Tearing off the wrapper, she extended the bar into the cage.

  The dog’s nose twitched. He slowly rose off his haunches and followed the bar out of the crate and onto the pavement. Kai quickly clipped the leash onto the collar as he wolfed down the last of the bar. He licked his lips, stretched and looked back at her before wobbling over to the rear tire and cocking his hind leg.

  Right, thought Kai. Gotta get that business over with. Finished, the animal turned to face her as if to say, “Now what?”

  “Exactly my sentiments,” she muttered. “I guess some water would be good.” She pulled out the half-empty bottle she’d had on the flight. “Sorry, no fancy bowl.” She tipped some into her cupped palm and held it out. Curious, he moved forward, sniffed her hand, peered apprehensively at her and then lapped up the water. Kai repeated this until the bottle was empty.

  She hoisted the empty crate into the rear of the SUV. The dog stared thoughtfully at her for a moment before leaping into the back next to the crate. Kai slammed the hatch and got into the driver’s seat. “Okay. Let’s get this show on the road.” She took a look at the dog in the rearview mirror, turned the key and shifted into gear.

  Fifteen minutes from her destination, she checked the mirror for the umpteenth time, marveling that an animal that had never experienced life outside rural Afghanistan could so blithely snooze through early rush hour in one of the largest cities in the States. Making up for the trauma of his first flights, she guessed. And with any luck, she thought, turning into the residential area where Captain Rossi lived, she’d soon be tucked into her own bed.

  The enclave was typical of many affluent residential areas. Tree-lined streets without sidewalks, well-tended lawns, landscaped gardens and homes that were more upscale and unique than the cookie-cutter variety found in newer commuter subdivisions. Not that Kai knew much about suburbia, having grown up on a soybean farm, but for most of her teen years she’d yearned for just such a lifestyle. Anyplace, anywhere but Lima, Ohio.

  She slowed the car to a crawl, scanning the street numbers on the mailboxes at the end of each drive, braking suddenly when she spotted the house on her right, just ahead. The lurch aroused the dog, who gave a low moan and staggered to his feet. There were two vehicles in the driveway, but she was able to pull up behind one of them. Turning off the ignition, she sat for a moment, staring at the Georgian-style redbrick home with its small porch flanked by white colonnades, and white shutters framing the windows of both stories. A pretty home even in late March.

  Kai wondered whether she ought to leave the dog in the car or take him up to the door with her. Then she thought that perhaps the dog’s arrival was meant to be a surprise and decided Captain Rossi would be thrilled to find Amigo standing on his doorstep.

  But when the door swung open, her theory fizzled out. A young woman with long blond hair stood before Kai. Her slight frown suggested puzzlement, and as her gaze shifted from Kai to Amigo, her expression changed to disgust.

  “Yes?”

  Kai figured that since she wasn’t holding out a pamphlet of any kind, some added pleasantry might have been made, like “Hello,” or even “Can I help you?” Still, she smiled.

  “I’m looking for Captain Rossi. Is this his house?”

  “What do you want with him?”

  Kai forced her smile wider. “Oh, not me so much as this dog. He’s a surprise for the captain.”

  “What?”

  “It’s a long story, best told by the captain if he’s available.”

  “Well, he’s definitely not available. He’s recovering from serious injuries, and the last thing he needs is—”

  “Who is it, dear?” An older woman appeared in the background.

  Captain Rossi’s mother? Kai turned her smile to the salt-and-pepper-haired woman. “Sorry for the intrusion, Mrs., uh, Rossi? I understand your family has endured some, uh, difficult days lately, but the men in Captain Rossi’s squad pitched in to send Amigo to him.” She inclined her head toward the dog. “And since I was heading for New York, they asked me to bring him to, uh, to the captain.” She stopped, defeated by the growing displeasure in the older woman’s face.

  “As you say, we have indeed endured difficult days, and I’m afraid that none of us has the energy, the time nor even the interest in adding a dog to the equation. So if you wouldn’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you returned the poor creature to the people whose misguided sympathies assumed we—or even my son—would want it.”

  The tiny hairs on the back of Kai’s neck bristled. Ignoring the satisfied smile on the younger woman’s face—girlfriend? wife?—and trying hard to hold her temper, she said, “The problem is, you see, that the men who sent Amigo are back there. In Afghanistan.”

  Mrs. Rossi drew her lips together in a tight line. “If you insist on leaving the dog, I shall simply have to call Animal Protection. They’ll dispose of it for me. It’s up to you.”

  The eyes that beaded in on Kai were cool and unyielding. After a long, uncomfortable moment, Kai murmured, “I hope Captain Rossi won’t be too disappointed.”

  “He—” Mrs. Rossi began, but stopped when the other woman placed a hand on her arm.

  “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” the younger woman said and closed the door.

  Kai didn’t move, thinking perhaps the whole scene was a mistake and someone—maybe Rossi himself—would fling the door open again. No such luck. Mustering as much dignity as she could, in case those formidable eyes were peering out through the sheer drapes in the bay window, Kai pulled the dog back to the SUV.

  After he reluctantly clambered into the rear, she sagged into the driver’s seat, giving the house one last look. Then she took a deep breath and said, “I guess it’s just you and me now, Amigo.”

  She glanced up at the rearview mirror. The dog uttered a low moaning sound and slumped down on his forepaws.

  “Was that a groan? Don’t tell me that was a groan.” Kai snapped the seat belt around her. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe this whole scene.” She reversed, a tad quickly, out of the drive. Following the meandering streets out of the area, she considered her next move, realizing at the same time that her plans for the rest of the day were now in serious need of amendment.

  She checked on the dog one last time befor
e heading for Brooklyn. Amigo was already asleep, completely oblivious to his narrow escape from the pound.

  How the heck did I end up with a dog?

  * * *

  IT WAS THE slam of a door that grabbed his attention, dragging him from the apathy that his therapist warned could become his “new normal.” Luca had grimaced at the phrase. Not that he would mind being normal. Growing up as an only child in a family that demanded exceptionality had instilled a strong urge in his adolescence to be, simply, average. Any normal would be new to him.

  He stretched his neck, just making out through the bare branches of the oak tree next to his bedroom window the rooftop of a black SUV reversing out of the drive. Something about the way the vehicle swerved as it gained momentum made him wonder about the driver’s mood. His mother had been doing guard duty since his arrival home from the hospital a week ago. And there was no more diligent sentry, he knew, than Isabel Rossi. Though to be fair, he himself had mumbled through his post-anesthetic haze that he wanted no visitors. None at all, he’d had to repeat. Meaning no bridge or tennis club friends of his mother’s. And no family, either. Especially the legion of cousins, aunts and uncles who’d been phoning nonstop since they’d heard he was home.

  The effort of leaning forward exhausted him. He lay back against the pillows and closed his eyes, waiting for the dizziness to subside. His doctor had told him it would take a few weeks before he felt like his “old self,” but Luca guessed he’d never see that old self again. One of many thoughts that kept rolling around in his brain the past few weeks was that maybe losing his old self wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Lately he’d been asking himself if he even wanted that Luca Rossi back. He hated to let down his friends—both in the military and out—along with family members who not only expected that former self back but encouraged its return. Yet if he wanted to be whole again—and he knew in his heart that he did—he would have to nurture this new self. That was at the top of the list of things to do. His goals, the therapist had explained.