“It’s not Gideon,” Olivia said.
“You know that incident on the beach a few weeks ago?” Haylee asked, rubbing her belly.
“Yeah? What about it?” Jamie took off her hat again and smacked it against her jeans, then grabbed a bottle of water from where it lay with her jacket and took a swig. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Is someone giving me a medal?”
She liked that Gideon had been there to witness her haul those kids out of the way of the wave. She didn’t need his approval or his validation, but his support had been most welcome, especially after getting yelled at by that crazy mother.
“I’m afraid not,” Olivia said.
There was a sympathetic tone in her voice that Jamie didn’t like. “What?” She looked between them. “Oh, God. It’s the crazy mother, isn’t it? She was mad because she didn’t realize the danger. She thought I was manhandling her kids for no reason. But there were witnesses. You can talk to the other parents who were on the beach—I’ve got the sign-in sheet. Some of them saw what happened, and they know those kids would have been hurt if I hadn’t grabbed them. That mother was spouting off, but I thought she was just scared. And embarrassed, because she wasn’t watching her kids properly and I made her look bad. You should talk to her husband. He seemed to appreciate the situation.”
Olivia nodded. “Jamie, you have good instincts, and I’ve no doubt you did what you needed to do. Just tell me again what happened? Okay?”
Jamie took a deep breath. “I was about to leave with Gideon, after my ‘Exploring Tide Pools’ talk for the nature conservancy. There was a family out there, not part of my group, though they should have been because they knew dick-all about ocean safety. Mom’s oblivious, Dad’s fiddling with his cell phone video, neither of them watching the kids.” She got angry all over again thinking about the danger they’d unwittingly put their children in.
She forced herself to stay calm. Olivia wanted the facts, not her opinion. “Two little ones, preschoolers, I guess. I saw a nasty rip heading in, the kind that would have taken the kids for quite the tumble, so I ran down and grabbed them before it could. Mom pitched a fit, but Dad seemed to realize that the kids could have been hurt.”
Haylee nodded. “Unfortunately, the mother says the little girl’s arm was dislocated when you lifted her up.”
Jamie snapped her head up so fast she tweaked her neck. “What?”
“I just took the call now,” Olivia said. “We’re going to get Aiden to check into the hospital records, but we wanted to get your side of the story, first.”
Her soft, smooth voice usually calmed Jamie’s spiky nerves, but this time, it wasn’t enough to counteract the message.
She rubbed her neck, then took a step backward, feeling behind her for the barn wall, feeling the ground tilt beneath her feet. “I dislocated her arm?” Her hip hit the rough wood with a thud. “Oh my God. I had no idea. Is she okay?”
This was horrible. The poor little girl. Jamie clutched one arm across her stomach and put the opposite hand against her mouth. “I have to go see her, to apologize. Is she still in the hospital?” She walked a few steps to the left, then a few more to the right. Should she bring her something? A toy? A stuffed animal? They sold stuff like that at the hospital, didn’t they?
Haylee took hold of her sleeve. “Jamie, stop. It’s no big deal and certainly better than drowning. We just needed to know if what the mother claims jives with what you remember?”
Jamie squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. Cold salt water pounding on her back, the feeling of those little bones in one hand, the boy’s jacket in the other, hauling them up onto higher ground and dumping them at their parents’ feet like a couple of sacks of feed. The bitter taste of adrenaline and seawater. Yelling, screaming, crying.
“Yeah.” She swallowed. “The kid was howling when I left, but I thought it was because she was scared. The mom was yelling at me, the kid was wailing. The dad and the little boy were fine, so I just thought . . . Oh God, this is awful.”
Olivia took hold of Jamie’s upper arms and gave her a light shake. “Jamie. Look at me. You did the right thing. Those kids would have been hurt far worse without you. Okay?”
She sucked in a shuddering breath. She didn’t know that children’s arms could be yanked out of joint that easily. She thought of how badly Gideon wanted to meet Blake at Sanctuary Ranch.
How much she wanted to be part of that.
And how little it would take for Lana to deny him.
* * *
Gideon heard the yelling and ran out of the stables to see Jamie chasing after Chaos. The little escape artist had gotten out of the training yard.
He ran at an angle, hoping to cut off the dog before he slipped under the main fence into the pasture. Olivia had a new rescue horse in there, fresh from a PMU farm, and a wild puppy would certainly spook her.
The laughter he’d heard from Jamie a moment ago stopped abruptly. The look on her face told him she recognized her mistake.
She muttered a curse, then yelled over her shoulder.
“Sorry, Haylee. I’ve got him. I’ll get him. Chaos!”
Gideon ran faster. The horses had stopped grazing to look. The new mare, a white-faced bay, was already twitching, waiting for the herd to react.
“Wrong way, pup,” he called, making his way between the dog and the horses. “Back off, go home!”
Rosie, usually a calm presence and comfortable with dogs, tossed her head and pranced backward. That was all the new mare needed. She wheeled around, and in a flash of hooves and dust, was off, sending the herd into a panic.
The thunderous noise got through to the puppy as the yelling hadn’t, and he slowed his pace long enough for Jamie to head him off. He still evaded her grasp, but at least he moved away from the corral.
Poor Jamie. She was trying so hard to impress Haylee.
The horses whinnied and pounded the earth, moving like a flock of seabirds over the brown grass, a froth of flickering manes and tails.
He kept running until he was in the center of the corral, then stopped. If he was lucky, Rosie would see him and realize there was no danger. Once she settled, the rest would follow suit, though they would be nervous and restless for hours and the new mare might be sensitized to dogs in the future.
A clear, high-pitched sound split the air. All heads whipped toward Haylee, who held a whistle in her mouth. The second Chaos looked at her, she clicked the training device.
“Come, Chaos,” she called, her voice calm and authoritative.
The pup slowed, changed direction, then went pelting back to the training yard and Haylee—and the treat he knew would be waiting.
Jamie jogged to a halt and as she watched Haylee with the pup, the smile faded from her face. She looked toward Gideon and her shoulders fell. Then she bent to pick up the leash the pup had dropped, and walked back to the kennel house.
“Sorry, Haylee,” he heard her say.
The horses had slowed their mad dash. Rosie trotted up to him and nuzzled his pocket for an alfalfa pellet.
“Here you go, girl,” he said.
She was breathing hard but not overly excited. Nash and a couple of others came up to nudge him for their own treats. The white-faced mare stayed back, her eyes rolling, her feet dancing back and forth on the soft ground.
No real damage done, he thought.
He walked among the herd, patting necks and stroking faces, calming and reassuring them. When he walked back to the barns, Jamie was nowhere to be seen.
But Haylee and Aiden were closing up the training yard. “It was a mistake, Haylee,” Gideon said.
“He could have been trampled.” Haylee pulled the gate shut with a snap.
“It could have happened to anyone.”
“He’s a valuable dog that doesn’t belong to us.” She secured the lock and turned toward her cabin.
Aiden sighed, caught Haylee’s hand, and pulled her back. “Haylee, it’s okay. Don’t be too hard on he
r.”
She looked at Gideon. “What do you think?”
He understood her anger. This was classic Jamie, rushing headlong into things without considering the consequences. And those consequences, he thought now, could reach farther than she realized.
Lana was already nervous about letting Blake come to the ranch. What if Jamie did something like this while he was around and accidentally put him at risk? Lana and Elliot would take any opportunity to discredit Gideon’s judgment and use it to limit his access to Blake, or deny it entirely.
“It was a mistake,” he said again. “She didn’t mean for it to happen.”
Haylee looked out toward the pasture, where the horses had finally gone back to grazing. “I know,” she said. “But that’s not good enough.”
Chapter Seventeen
Lots of masculine fire energy this week. Stay alert.
—Jamie’s horoscope
Jamie knocked on Roman’s door. “Hello? You home? I’ve got your pup.”
A low, rough bark of welcome sounded from within and set Chaos barking and squirming to be let down.
“Ouch! Wait. You little monster.” The puppy’s sharp claws dug into the soft flesh of her upper arm as he wiggled and whined.
Then Roman’s grumbling voice. “Hold your horses.”
Chaos barked again and Sadie yelped eagerly.
The door opened, and Sadie rushed out first, weaving herself around Jamie’s legs, sniffing and whining. She set Chaos down. “Don’t run away, you little brat.”
The older dog licked and nuzzled the puppy, while Chaos leaped all over her, slipping and falling in his excitement. Jamie winced as his hard head cracked on the cedar deck, but the pup seemed to barely notice.
“You’ve brought Chaos.” Roman sighed. “My son will be glad.”
“Not you? I’ll keep him, just say the word. He’s adorable and deserves to be with someone who appreciates him.”
Someone without livestock. He’d had way too much fun chasing the horses. Jamie had hoped to keep Chaos for a few more days, but knew better than to push her luck. Haylee had been pissed.
“I suppose you’ll want to come in and check on Sadie.” He sounded genuinely put out, but he held the door open.
“Pardon me if I offended you earlier. When it comes to animals, I subscribe to the guilty-until-proven-innocent philosophy. You didn’t seem much like a dog enthusiast.”
He was moving better today than he’d been the day she’d helped him to his house, and his face had better color in it.
“I only had him a month before you kidnapped him.”
“Rescued him.”
He walked ahead of her into the kitchen. “Whatever. I’m making tea.”
“Is that an invitation?”
“It’s information. Do with it what you will.”
The puppy gambolled behind Sadie. The wound on her bad leg had scabbed over, but the entire leg was visibly more swollen today. Cancer sucked.
The pup raced to Sadie’s bowl, then dropped his butt end down and looked up at Roman eagerly.
“You’ll get your supper when it’s suppertime,” Roman said.
The puppy stomped his front paws and barked, but held the sit position.
“He’s really smart, you know.”
“Too smart. As evidenced by his ability to get through the fence.”
“He’s growing fast. Soon he won’t fit.” Jamie smiled as Roman gave the pup a treat and a pat. “Sorry I couldn’t work with him longer, but he should be bonding with you, anyway.”
The old man harrumphed. “Maybe I don’t want to bond with him.”
“What? Why not? Why did you get him in the first place, then?” Jamie lifted her hands and let them flop down at her sides. “I’m serious. If you don’t want him, I’ll take him. But make up your mind.”
“I don’t want him. I need him,” Roman snapped. “We’re stuck with each other.”
He wasn’t making sense. She shook her head, waiting for him to go on.
He levelled a tired glance at her, then snapped his fingers at Sadie. “Get me my cane, girl.”
The dog limped to the living room, took the wooden walking stick in her mouth, and brought it back.
Roman rubbed her wide head, and suddenly, Jamie saw what was standing smack in front of her, what should have been obvious from the beginning.
The way she watched him, how she’d helped him to his feet when he’d fallen outside, his anger at her impending death, it all made sense now.
Sadie was a service dog.
“Chaos is meant to be her replacement,” she said softly. “Why didn’t you tell me? You’re definitely going to need help training him to take over. When Sadie retires, I mean.”
No wonder he resented the puppy. He was grieving.
“Not interested in going through all that work again. Travelling to the training center. Strangers in my house, telling me what to do.” Roman busied himself at the counter, keeping his back to her. “Besides, nobody will ever take Sadie’s place.”
“Of course not. But you’re used to her help. And you’re in luck! We train dogs like this, on the ranch. Among other things.”
He snorted. “I’m even less interested in neighborhood do-gooders.”
She needed to change tactics. He hated helplessness and he didn’t want pity. She’d have to appeal to his anger. “No problem. It’s a big commitment, and I doubt you’d meet our requirements. Plus, you probably can’t afford us.”
Roman’s head popped up, and he paused in the act of pouring steaming water from a kettle to a teapot. His eyes narrowed and Jamie could see him calculating his response.
She jumped in before he could make another attempt to cover himself.
“What’s wrong with you, anyway? Mobility issues, chronic pain, what else?”
He blustered. “None of your goddamn business.”
“Don’t get your shorts in a twist. We can’t train dogs unless we know what their owner needs.”
“I don’t want you to train my dog! I was doing just fine before you showed up and I’ll be fine once you leave.” He slammed a ceramic bowl on the table. “There’s sugar. I’ve got no milk so you’re out of luck if you want it.”
Jamie grinned. “I don’t take milk and I’m sweet enough already as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
She slid one chair out in front of the place mat where Roman’s glasses and crossword puzzle lay. She pulled another out for herself and got comfortable.
Roman plunked the teapot and two cups onto the table.
“So. What kind of trouble did he give you?”
Jamie lifted her cup in a toast. “Destroyed two socks and one chair leg and nearly caused a stampede. You’ve got your work cut out for you.”
“We’ll manage.”
She took a sip. The bitter brew nearly puckered her mouth. “Are you always such a conversational whiz? Or is it just me?”
“You’re annoying, you know that?”
“That’s just hurtful.” She stirred a generous spoonful of sugar into her cup. “And untrue. I’m delightful, as a matter of fact. But back to Chaos.”
“I think I just found the title for my biopic,” Roman grumbled.
Then he winced, angling his body as if a sudden spasm had run up his side.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m frickin’ fantastic. How does it look?”
His face had gone grey again, and his eyes were screwed up tightly.
Jamie glanced over at the counter, where several vials of prescription medication sat. “You want something from your pill collection?”
“My pills are . . . none of your business.”
“Okay, then.” She sat back and waited. “I believe there’s a saying, something about pride goeth-ing before a fall. I’d suggest you remain seated until the ride you’re on comes to a complete halt. With your pride, I don’t like your chances of remaining off the floor.”
He hissed. “Do you always talk so much?”
<
br /> “Only when I’m nervous. You could try being nicer to me.”
“I gave you tea.”
“That’s true.” She let the silence grow between them for a moment. “See? It’s working already.”
“If I give you a loaf of bread, will you shut up?”
The toughness was all an act, that was obvious. He needed help, maybe with more than the dog. She made a mental note to ask Gayle how to arrange for a visit from social services.
Then remembered the gun and erased the note.
She couldn’t keep Chaos at the ranch, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t pop out to help Roman train him here. If he’d let her. With no classes for the parks board at the moment, she could easily fit it into her schedule.
Roman groaned. A sheen of perspiration glistened on his forehead. Jamie got to her feet, gathered the yellow plastic containers in both her hands, and dumped them on the table in front of him.
“Here, you old goat. Take your drugs. You’re making me uncomfortable.”
“Can’t have that, can we?” Roman muttered. Bracing himself on the table with one hand, he reached out with the other, only to grab the seat of his chair before he made it.
“You look trapped, good sir,” Jamie said, giving him a big smile. “I’d offer to help, but . . .”
Curses spilled out past gritted teeth. “That one. Two.”
She examined the vial, then whistled. “Oxy. Nice. Hillbilly heroine. How often do you take these?”
“Not often enough. Come on. Hand ’em over.”
Jamie took the vial with her to the sink, where she filled up a glass of water. “It says one to two pills, as needed for pain. Shouldn’t you start with one?”
“Are you my doctor? This isn’t funny.”
“No, it’s not.” She went to his side and eased her arm across his back. “Come on, old man. Let’s get you to the couch, first. Sitting at the table isn’t doing you any favors.”
He leaned heavily on her, his breath wheezing in and out with the effort, but he didn’t argue. She got him settled, lifting his bad leg onto the pillow he indicated.
Driftwood Creek Page 15
