What he disliked most about that conclusion was the inference that a higher power may have arranged their pairing. Undoubtedly Zoe thought so. And perhaps the other trainers did, too. But that didn’t mean he had to agree with them.
Trouble was, he was wondering if he might be wrong and they might be right. The fact that his enemies had driven him to Desert Valley, to the help he so desperately needed, was enough to upset his preconceived notions. Add to that the amazing assets that had awaited him here and you had a real conundrum.
Sean scooped up his son and carried him into the living room, where he settled with him on the sofa, pretending to watch TV while his mind sought answers that probably didn’t exist.
Angel plopped down at his feet and rested her chin atop the toes of his shoes. All Sean said was, “Good girl.”
Zoe gave man and boy a few moments alone before joining them. “Mind if I sit here, too?”
“Of course not.”
She’d locked up her regular sidearm and was able to comfortably collapse next to them on the couch. “Long day.”
“Yeah. Especially this last part.”
Nothing could have kept her from smiling at the pair. “You should be thankful, you know.”
“I know. It’s just so unbelievable. A month ago he was barely able to stand. He was unresponsive for weeks before that.”
“Kids are resilient. I understand the water in the pool hadn’t been heated. That was in his favor, too.”
“So they tell me. The younger the child and the colder the water, the less lasting brain damage is done.”
“Right.” She produced a small electronic tablet and laid it in her lap. “I thought, if you’re up to it, we could go over a few things. We need to figure out who is upset enough with you to want you dead.”
“Beats me.”
“Let’s start with the families of the comrades in arms you visited after you returned to the States. Where did they live?”
“One was in Chicago. One was in Minneapolis. The other survivor had moved with no forwarding address. The folks in Chicago did talk to me, although they certainly didn’t welcome me the way I’d hoped. It wasn’t my fault the Humvee hit an IED. All I was trying to do was get to the airport so I could fly home to Patrick.”
She saw his arms tighten around the drowsy child. “I could try to track down the soldier who moved as well as check on the backgrounds of the others if you like.”
“Okay. Gentry was the family I couldn’t find. Smiths were in Chicago. Yarnells were from Minneapolis. They were the ones who acted the most upset.”
“I’ll have Chief Hayes put out a few feelers and see what he can come up with. How about your late wife’s connections?”
“Those are a lot hazier. And far more likely to be with criminals. She was deeply involved in drugs.”
“Do you know if there was an investigation after she overdosed? I’d think they’d at least look into identifying her supplier.”
“So would I. Her parents, however, apparently pulled some strings to keep the whole thing hush-hush. No doubt they were embarrassed by Sandra’s poor choices.” He blew out a noisy sigh. “Including me as a husband.”
Mulling over the information, or lack of it, Zoe finally asked, “Is it possible they just want control of Patrick?”
“Only an outside chance,” Sean said flatly. “As I’ve said before, they could always sue for custody. I’m actually kind of surprised they haven’t. Which reminds me, you and I haven’t seen an attorney yet.”
Her body moved imperceptibly as her mind retreated. “I think you should hold off on that. It’s not that I don’t want to help out, it’s just that I suspect you’ll find somebody special before long and build a new family. I don’t want to stand in the way.”
Waiting, barely breathing, she willed him to encourage her, at least by including her in the pool of eligible mates. He did not. Staring at the television, he acted as if he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. Not speaking was more telling than denial. Silence told her that Sean was willing to view her as a buddy and accept her assistance in a pinch, yet not expand that image to include a lifelong commitment.
Okay. She got the picture. It hurt all the way from the roots of her dark brown hair to the tips of her toes, but she understood perfectly. They were friends, period.
That would do. It would have to.
* * *
Companionable stillness enveloped Sean. Patrick had fallen asleep in his lap, so he had no qualms about bringing up Christmas plans. Anything but face the touchy subject Zoe had tried to discuss.
“Do you want me to get a tree and ornaments, or will it create too much excitement for the dogs?” he asked.
“I’ve given that some thought. I’ll pick up a small one and put it on the table in the kitchen. That way they’ll know it’s off-limits.” She sighed. “What about presents for you-know-who? I have no idea what to buy him.”
“You don’t have to give him anything.”
“I want to. He’s a real sweetheart. Why wouldn’t I give him something for Christmas?”
“I just don’t want you to feel obligated.”
“In that case, I’ll cross you off my list. Patrick is getting presents.”
“Okay, okay. Don’t get huffy.”
“Huffy? You want to see huffy, you just try to stop me from making this the best Christmas he’s ever had.”
Sean partially let go of the boy in order to raise one hand in surrender. What in the world was wrong with Zoe? She was usually so even-tempered and levelheaded. “No argument here,” he said. “I was just trying to make things easier for you.”
“I love Christmas, okay? If I were home in Mesa, I’d have my whole apartment decorated, even the cactus in front of my picture window. I do it every year.”
“And instead, you’re stuck here with us.”
“I’m not stuck anywhere, Murphy. I’m here because I choose to be, and you’re staying in my house by my invitation, so don’t go imagining me as some suffering martyr. I’ll buy some decorations that I can easily take home afterward. You can pick up anything else you want. It makes no difference to me.”
Eyeing her and sensing continued animosity, he decided it was best to merely nod. He’d never been big on a lot of tinsel and colored lights. Hadn’t even had a tree since childhood. Sandra’s parents, Alice and John Shepherd, had always gone overboard on fancy decorations, and she had dragged him to their house whenever he was home on leave around holiday time. They hadn’t done all the work themselves, of course, and the result had always been so perfect he’d found it off-putting.
Finally he ventured a comment. “Do you think we could talk a couple of your police friends into shopping with us? I’d feel safer if others were along.”
Zoe nodded and arched an eyebrow. “That’s a good idea. I’ll ask Dalton or Tristan if they’re available.”
“I know about West. Who did you say the other guy was?”
“A former soldier who recently married one of the local school teachers. He’s been raising his teenage niece, too. You and he have more in common than some of the others.”
“Have you told him about me?”
It surprised him to hear her say, “No.” The reasons were even more impressive. “I hadn’t asked you if I could share your story with anybody except the dog trainers, so I didn’t. If you want to make it public, that’s up to you.”
He knew he was staring when she said, “What?”
“Nothing. I just figured the whole town knew by now.”
“Gossip can spread fast in a close-knit community, but they didn’t learn any secrets from me.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Zoe got to her feet and stretched, arms over her head. “Turn off the lights when you decide to go to
bed.”
“Good night.” Sean wanted to say so much more. To tell her what she’d meant to him, now and in the past. To compliment her on her expertise and choosing a career of service. To thank her again and again for opening her home to him and her heart to his son.
His cheeks warmed when he pictured himself thanking Zoe with a hug as she left him. Instead, he gently eased the boy off his lap and laid him on the couch, then made the rounds of windows and doors, rechecking the locks before doing it all a second time. Yes, he was paranoid. That was only crazy if nobody was after him. He knew the danger remained, just as he knew his nerves were balanced on a knife-edge between self-control and sheer panic.
Every time he peered out into the darkness, he thought undefined objects moved. Shifted. Inched closer. Then he’d blink and the supposed danger would vanish.
He flicked off the kitchen lights and paused at the window over the sink. Moonlight cast parts of the yard in darkness while gleaming off bare rocks and crags in the distance.
A shiver shot up his spine. Instinct pushed him back into the interior shadows. Held him there. Made him wonder if his mind was playing tricks as it often did.
Then he saw a pattern of light and dark pass across the bare floor. It lingered only for a second. Was this for real? Was someone watching? Waiting for him to make a mistake?
Edging closer to the window frame, Sean held his breath and continued to scan the yard for intruders. Nothing presented itself, not even a passing nocturnal animal.
He left all the interior lights off to keep from highlighting himself, then once again made the rounds of all the windows. His musings progressed from a heightened sense of danger to an assurance that his damaged mind had been responsible for the fright.
“All right,” he mumbled, sighing. “So there was nothing there this time.” That didn’t matter. He was not about to let down his guard. Not if folks called him crazy for the rest of his life. Which, hopefully, would be a good long time.
EIGHT
Sunday morning came early for Zoe. Even Freya seemed inclined to sleep in—until Angel nosed open the door and came barreling into the room, caromed off the edge of the bed and sped back out. If her barking had not been so high-pitched and playful, Zoe would have worried.
Instead of reaching for her sidearm, she stretched and yawned. Freya did the same. This was a special day. A morning filled with promise and possibilities.
A silly notion made her smile and mutter, “Yes, as long as nobody tries to shoot us.” That attitude made her shake her head at herself. How could she hope to convince Sean to trust God if she went around making jokes about divine intervention? Then again, humor was good medicine. The Bible said so.
By the time she’d dressed, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon had drifted down the hall. There was a lot to be said for a guy who pitched in and cooked.
She breezed into the kitchen, smiling. “Wow. Something smells great!”
Judging by the way Sean stopped moving and stared, she’d either made a good impression or a very bad one. She whirled, arms out. “What do you think? I love this red sweater.”
“It’s—it’s pretty.”
A slight blush accentuated his approval and appreciation of her efforts. She seldom wore more than lipstick, but this morning had splurged using eyebrow pencil and a touch of eye shadow. Gold hoop earrings replaced the plain gold studs she wore while training and working.
“Thanks. I didn’t bring a skirt from home, but at least I’m not wearing jeans.”
“I don’t have fancy clothes,” Sean said, looking down at his jeans and boots. “Maybe I should just stay here.”
“Not on your life.” Zoe grinned. “I figure, if a church doesn’t accept people for who they are instead of what they wear or how much money is in their wallets, then they shouldn’t bother opening their doors.”
“I have to warn you, I’m not comfortable in crowds.”
“We can sit all the way to the rear, with our backs against the wall. Will that help?”
“Hopefully. Just don’t be surprised if I have to take a break during the service.”
That’s fine. We’ll include Freya for moral support.”
“Not Angel?”
She wanted to jump for joy. “If you want her with us, that’s fine. The Community Church is used to handlers bringing their dogs. Nobody will think it’s odd.”
“That’s a relief. I was afraid I’d stand out.”
Zoe wanted to comment that he’d stand out simply because he was so attractive, despite his often somber mood, but she refrained. The less attention they called to themselves, the better. Plus, there would be plenty of police officers at the morning service, both in the sanctuary and posted in the hallways, just in case of trouble from outsiders. Therefore, she saw no need to strap on her duty weapon or tuck a spare gun at her waist and spoil the way her red pullover fit.
“Okay.” Zoe took a place at the table next to Patrick. “Let’s eat so we can get this show on the road. Right, kiddo?”
The child paused and inclined his head for a moment before he said, “At-rick.”
Sean whipped around. His jaw gaped. “Patrick?”
Pressing her lips together and leaning closer, Zoe made the sound for P, then followed it with the rest of his name. She thought she and Sean were both going to cry when the little boy echoed, “P-atrick.”
* * *
Because of the broken windows in Zoe’s car, they took Sean’s pickup to church. The parking lot was far more crowded than Sean had expected. He chose a spot on the fringes.
Sean recognized Dalton West because he was with Maisy. Patrick spotted her and led the way to the pair by tugging on his daddy’s hand and leaning.
“Your daughter has made quite an impression on my son in day care,” Sean said, trying to keep Angel from jumping all over the children and licking their faces.
“New dog?” Dalton eyed the border collie.
“Very new. So am I. She’s supposed to help me with PTSD.”
“I can tell that from her vest.” Dalton shot a concerned look toward Zoe, then said, “May I?” and reached for Angel’s leash.
“Sure,” Sean said. “She’s settled down a lot at home but still gets really excited in new situations.”
Instead of answering, Dalton faced the dog, pointed a finger at her, then quickly brought it to his own face. “Look at me. Look. Sit.”
She not only obeyed the calm, firm instructions, she sat still at West’s feet and kept staring into his eyes. He didn’t babble or keep repeating her name, nor did he make unnecessary motions. He merely exuded authority.
Sean was flabbergasted. “Wow. What did you do to my crazy dog?”
“Took command,” the other man said as he passed the end of the leash back to Sean. “You can learn to do it, too. It just takes time.”
“Thanks for the lesson.” Eyeing the children, Sean asked about Sunday school.
“Maisy usually sits in church with me,” Dalton said.
The dark-haired ten-year-old tugged at her father’s hand. “I can take Patrick to the kindergarten class and stay with him today, can’t I? Please?”
“If it’s okay with Mr. Murphy.”
“I’ll—We’ll walk with you,” Sean said. “Lead the way.” A backward glance at Zoe made Sean wish she were by his side. No. Zoe was too wonderful. She needed a man who was perfect, not an emotionally wounded one like himself. She deserved better. He just wished...
What? What did he wish? That he had been wiser as a younger man? That he had realized how ideal Zoe was when they were college students? That he had waited to marry? His imagination paused before adding, That Patrick was her son. Hers and his. And that she’d be the one to help raise him.
Entering the church with the oth
ers, Sean hardly noticed where he was. Someone tried to hand him a bulletin. Angel promptly accepted it for him, gave it a shake, then carried it as she trotted obediently at his side.
Short hair at Sean’s nape began to prickle. He fought off the sensation. It kept building. If he had been sitting down, he knew he would have had to get up and move. To flee his invisible enemies.
Zoe touched his arm. “Are you all right?”
“No. It’s claustrophobic in here.”
“Okay. I’ll finish escorting Patrick to class. You can wait for me outside.”
“He’ll be scared without me.”
“It’ll be worse if you suddenly have a flashback and he has to watch,” she said tenderly. “Go. If anybody asks, tell them the dog needed to go out. That way you won’t be embarrassed. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”
“If you have any trouble, bring Patrick back to me. Promise?”
“I promise.”
Turning on his heel, Sean headed for the exit. Angel gave him no argument, sticking to his side as if she’d suddenly realized he needed her. Perhaps she had. Whatever the reason, he was relieved to not have to drag her or fight to keep her from jumping on others.
The glass door swung open. Sean was barely able to hesitate long enough to permit a couple with small children to enter before he sidled past them with his dog and burst out into the open. His heart was pounding, his breath shallow and quick. One stride. Two. Then more, until he reached a place where he could be alone enough to regain his composure.
Exhausted, he leaned against the side of his pickup bed and forced himself to inhale deeply, slowly. He’d almost waited too long. Almost embarrassed Zoe in front of her friends. Instincts for self-preservation were supposed to keep a person out of trouble, not cause it, and his were clearly wide of the mark.
Watching for Zoe and Freya, Sean reached down and laid his hand on Angel’s soft fur. Stroking her head seemed to calm him, and when she tried to give him the soggy church bulletin he almost smiled. “Yes, you’re a good girl. It would be nice if both of us weren’t wonky but you’re coming along well. I guess we will work out.”
Rookie K-9 Unit Christmas Page 7
