“Will,” he corrected. “Mr. Jacobson was my pa. Now how about a cool drink?”
Grace smiled. “I'd love a glass of lemonade, Will.”
“Me, too,” Tyler said.
Will led them into the house and pulled out chairs encouraging them to sit. “What's your dog's name?” he asked.
Tyler grinned. “That's up to you.”
“Eh? How's that?”
“He's all yours,” Grace said holding out the leash.
Will looked from Grace to Tyler and back again. Tears shimmered behind his glasses.
“Mine?”
Grace nodded, feeling tears smart behind her eyes, too.
Will reached down and petted the dog's head. “Well, now.” Will's voice cracked. “I'm pleased to have you, if you want to stay,” he said to the dog.
Shane licked his hand.
“But I'm fresh out of names, I'm afraid.”
“We've been calling him Shane,” Grace offered.
“Shane,” Will repeated.
The dog lifted his ears.
“Shane, it is then. That's a fine name for a fine dog.”
Shane barked approval.
****
Grace managed to get through the rest of the day without Tyler suspecting anything. He asked her to stay for dinner, but she declined, saying she had chores and errands to run. He seemed disappointed, but said he understood. When he leaned forward as if to kiss her, she turned her head, pretending not to notice.
As Grace topped the hill, she called Tiffany's name. When there was no answer, her concern grew. She hadn't seen her dog since this morning when she told her to go find Brad. Grace placed her hands on each side of her mouth and called again. “Tiffany!”
Grace ran to the back of the house, hoping to find the dog sleeping in her favorite spot. The sight that met her eyes stopped her flight. Tiffany lay in a pool of blood, the discarded silk scarf knotted around her neck.
Fear and rage battled, fear that her beloved pet might die, rage at the monster who did this, and above it all, a sorrow deep in her heart. Grace dropped to her knees and placed her ear against Tiffany's stomach. A slow but steady heartbeat gave her hope.
“Thank God.”
The open hip wound was deep and long, the fur matted with blood.
“It's okay, girl. I'll get help. Tyler will know what to do.”
Tiffany's tail wagged once.
Retracing her earlier route, she flew past the outreaching branches, ignoring the sting as they flogged her face. “No, no, no,” she chanted with each heavy footfall. She met resistance when she pushed against the clinic door. Locked! She turned, ran down the steps and around the building. Taking the stairs two at a time, she reached the deck and called out, “Tyler! Help!”
****
“Dad, I'll call you later. I've got an emergency.” Tyler hung up the phone and walked toward the kitchen. He collided with Grace and grabbed her arms to keep from tumbling to the floor. He touched a red welt on her cheek. “What's wrong, honey?”
“Come quick. Tiffany's hurt. I think she's been stabbed.” Grace tugged his arm. “Hurry, she's bleeding. You have to do something. Please, Tyler, you have to come with me.”
By the time he retrieved his medical bag, she was gone. He caught sight of her running toward the wooded path, and though he was in great shape, he had a difficult time catching up. He followed, and breathless, knelt beside the dog. She had a large wound on her hip, and she'd lost a significant amount of blood. He listened and heard a steady heartbeat. A good sign, but he couldn't risk moving her until he stopped the bleeding. He clipped around the wound and cleaned it as best he could. He fingered the scarf knotted around the dog's neck wondering where it had come from.
Grace yelled into the trees as if someone stood there. “I swear I'm going to kill you.” Her hands clamped into fists. “You stinking coward. I'll cut out your heart for doing this. You hear me! You're a dead man!”
Chills ran down Tyler's spine. Grace tipped back her head and emitted a scream that left him raw and wounded. He put his arms around her, drawing her to his chest. Her body stiffened against him. “It's all right, honey. She's going to be okay, but we have to get her to the clinic right away.” He stroked the wild silky curls on Grace's head, whispering over and over that Tiffany would be fine. Slowly she began to relax, her body leaning into him. He tipped her face to his and kissed her. His arms trembled with the force of his emotions. He couldn't bear Grace's pain. He looked into her eyes, now gleaming with unshed tears. “I promise she won't die. I won't let that happen. You hear me?”
Her arms wrapped around his waist and she dropped her forehead to his chest.
“Grace. Do you trust me?”
She nodded.
His heart felt like a heavy rock in his chest. She trusted him, and he had to follow through on his promise. But once she learned the truth about him, she'd never trust him again. He couldn't think of that now though. Now he had to help Tiffany.
“Can you get me a blanket?” he asked.
She sniffed. Her eyes met his and he saw flecks of midnight blue far behind the surface, pulling him in, drowning him in their depths. She nodded.
Moments later, she returned with a lightweight blanket.
Together they eased Tiffany onto the blanket. He wrapped it around the dog and carefully lifted her in his arms. “Will you carry my bag?”
Grace grabbed it and followed him down the steps.
“Tyler, is she really going to be all right?”
The tremor in her voice tugged at his heartstrings. He was positive the injury wasn't accidental. Someone had stabbed the dog, and he was afraid he knew who had performed the evil deed. “She's going to make it, babe.”
Two hours later, Tiffany lay sedated but out of danger. Grace sat in a chair outside the cage, her hand resting on her dog's head. Tyler kept an eye on her while he cleaned up.
“Are you sure she's going to make it?”
“Absolutely. Tomorrow she'll be more alert, but we'll have to keep her caged for a few days.”
Grace nodded. “Thank you. I'll pay you for this, I promise.”
He gritted his teeth. Hadn't they gone beyond being business associates? Hoping the frustration didn't reach his voice, he replied, “I love that dog nearly as much as you. There's no charge, Grace. Come on, let's get something to eat.”
“I'm not hungry.”
“Then keep me company while I eat. Tiffany is fine. She's going to sleep through the night.”
“I'm not leaving her alone.” She glanced up at him and the anger he saw made him step back.
He didn't blame her. What happened to the dog wasn't an accident. “We need to notify the authorities about what happened.”
“No. I can handle this myself.”
“Grace.”
“I said no.”
He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. She was in no mood to listen to reason. Did she know who had done this? “Grace, did you put this on Tiffany?” He held up the scarf he'd removed from the dog's neck.
Her face drained of color. “It's mine. I think I left it at Brad's. He must have returned it via Tiffany.”
She was lying. He read it in her posture and in her eyes. Why? What significance did the scarf have? He tossed it to her and she balled it up and stuffed it in her pocket.
“So why don't you want to notify the authorities?”
“Why should I? Couldn't the wound be accidental? What if she got into a trap? Or got into a tangle with another animal? I mean, who would deliberately hurt my dog? It doesn't make sense.”
“The wound was a clean cut. It looks like a knife wound. That isn't accidental.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “And you're an expert on knife wounds?”
He shrugged. “All I'm telling you is that it looks too clean to have been caused by another animal. A trap would have caused more damage, maybe broken her leg.” He held out his hand when she opened her mouth to protest. �
��And if it was a trap it would have been lower, not up on the hip.”
“And I'm telling you to let it go. There isn't a soul in Foxfire who would hurt her, not deliberately. All I care about is getting her back on her feet. Then I'll decide how to protect her in the future.”
She walked out of the room and looked back over her shoulder. “Didn't you mention getting something to eat? Suddenly I'm famished.”
Tyler gave up. They went to his apartment and he pulled eggs and bacon from the refrigerator. Grace started a pot of coffee. They worked together and when the food was done, they carried it to the deck. Tyler lit the gas torches. He couldn't let Grace go back home tonight. His gut told him Max had something to do with what happened, and he thought Grace knew it, too. He'd been too aware of her reaction over the scarf. It wasn't hers. What part did it play in the whole scenario? Damn. He needed to talk to Jake. Maybe it was time to tell Grace the truth. She deserved to know. If he could just get her to stay with him for the night, then tomorrow morning he'd lay everything out on the table when she'd be ready to listen. If it meant she didn't want to pursue the attraction between them, he'd just have to accept it. The important thing was to protect her.
“Will you stay here tonight? I know you'd like to be close to Tiffany. My couch makes into a bed. I can sleep there and give you my bedroom.” He tried to lighten the air. “I promise not to let you seduce me.”
She glanced down at her rumpled blood-stained clothing. “If you really don't mind, that will ease my mind. But I can't let you give up your bed. I'll take the sofa.” He started to protest, but decided not to push his luck.
“Okay,” he agreed.
She stood and carried her plate to the kitchen. “Thanks for dinner. I'll just go shower and get a change of clothes.”
“You're not going anywhere alone.”
“I don't need—”
“Remember what I told you about my mother?”
“But—”
“Grace. Be reasonable. It will only take a few minutes to drive to your place. Let me do that much for you.”
She stared into his eyes. Finally she shrugged. “Whatever. But let's go check on Tiffany first.”
****
Grace spent a restless night on Tyler's couch. At the first sign of light, she washed her face, brushed her teeth, and finger-combed her damp curls. There was no sound coming from behind Tyler's closed bedroom door, so she quietly went about putting on a pot of coffee.
Tyler's apartment was surprisingly homey, more so than her house which she'd had three years to decorate and furnish. In the back of her mind lurked the possibility of having to move. At times it seemed she'd spent her entire life running away from something. Though she told herself she'd never run again, that she'd stay in Foxfire forever, reality had her poised for flight. Perhaps it would be best to leave Foxfire as soon as Tiffany recovered. If Max wanted her, he'd have to find her again and she wouldn't have the guilt of endangering her friends. The thought of never seeing Brad again started a throbbing tension headache. Max had already stolen so much from her. She deserved a life free from his threat.
Grace lifted a silver filigree frame from the mantle. The image of a man and woman smiled back at her. This had be a picture of Tyler's parents. The woman's green eyes were the mirror image of Tyler's, and the man's teasing dimples, she'd seen many times on Tyler's face. She sighed. She didn't want to give up her life here.
Tyler's voice drifted through his closed bedroom door. She set the picture back in place and cautiously approached.
“No, don't send anyone yet. I'll call if I need help. If Max is here, I'll get him.”
Max? She placed her ear against the door. Who was Tyler talking to, and what did he know about Max?
“I'm not sure he’s behind this yet.”
Grace's heart began to thud loudly.
“Although Max prefers guns, I have a hunch it was him. Whoever did it was lashing out at Grace. She and that dog are inseparable.”
Grace turned the knob on the bedroom door and flung it open. She had a second to register the slam against the wall before Tyler dropped the phone and spun, both hands closed around a gun pointed right between her eyes.
“Damn,” he said, lowering the weapon. He picked up the phone with one hand. “I'll call you back.” He dropped it back on the mattress and shoved the gun in his waistband.
Grace's shock began to ebb. “Who are you?”
Tyler ruffled a hand through his hair. “I guess you overheard.”
“I didn't overhear. I eavesdropped. I want answers, Tyler.”
His gaze burned into hers. “Let me fix some coffee first.”
She blocked the doorway. “Who are you? A cop?”
His closed expression showed no sign of what he might be thinking. “No,” he replied. He gently moved her aside and strode toward the kitchen.
Grace tagged closely behind. “Are you really a vet?”
“Thanks.” He nodded toward the full pot of coffee and reached for the cabinet door. Grace's hand stopped him from opening it.
“Answers first.”
“Yes, I'm a vet.”
“What else?”
He pulled out a chair and indicated she should do the same. Deep in her soul, she feared her world was about to come crashing in on her.
“I'll tell you everything you want to know after I have a cup of coffee.”
He ran a hand through his hair again, leaving it mussed. Much to her dismay, it reminded her of soft beds and sex. “It's been a rough night.”
How could he appear so calm and unconcerned after pointing a gun at her? The hard look in his eyes as he'd spun with the weapon in his hands told her he knew how to use it. She had to get away from him and from the past that knocked harshly on the locked door of her heart. “Yes, it has,” she responded. The urge to run overpowered her desire to hear his explanations. “To hell with the coffee. And to hell with you!” She whirled and ran for the sliding doors.
****
Tyler reacted on instinct, grabbing her arm. She drove a fist into his nose, surprising him and loosening his fingers. She pulled free and darted outside.
He tested his nose for blood, found none, and hurried after her. A brief smile tugged at his lips. The woman might be small, but she packed a mean right hook.
He caught her at the edge of the woods, and grabbed her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her from the ground.
She fought hard, slamming her head back, trying to connect with his face. Her feet kicked against his shins and her breath came in short grunts of frustration.
“Let. Me. Go.” She clawed at him.
Her nails raked his arm. “Stop it, Grace. Give me a chance to explain.”
“No.” Her head slammed against his chest. She nailed a solid kick to his shin, staggering him.
He dropped to the ground, pinning her beneath him. Her weight was no match against him, and she wilted, closing her eyes and turning her face away.
“I'm not a cop. I'm a vet. And I work for...an investigation firm.”
She opened her eyes and spit in his face.
So much for thinking she'd given in to his superior position. He wiped a hand across his face. Her eyes glared through him like poison darts.
“You're investigating me?” she yelled.
He'd expected her anger, but not the hatred sparking deep in her eyes. Somehow that hurt more than her punch to his nose.
“Just let me explain.” He drew in a deep breath. “If I let you go, will you promise not to run away?”
“Why should I?”
“Have you forgotten about Tiffany?”
Her gaze wavered. She shifted, trying to free herself. His body responded. Looking down into her flushed face and angry eyes brought a desire to mash his lips on hers and turn her anger into a passion that would drive them both over the edge. He shook his head, wishing he dared to let go of her long enough to regain his senses. “I am a vet, Grace.” She pushed against
him and he grunted.
“Let me up.” She bucked upward.
“Can I trust you?” he asked.
“Can I trust you?” she countered.
“Yes.” Slowly, he raised his body off hers, stood and extended his hand to help her up.
She ignored his gesture and pushed to her feet.
He wiped the perspiration from his brow. “Can we have that coffee now?”
Grace dusted her backside then turned and strode back to his apartment.
****
When they reached the deck, Grace leaned against the railing, while Tyler went inside. Anger raged, making her want to hit something, or someone—namely Tyler. He'd lied to her. Had anything he'd told her been truthful? Fury built in her chest until she wanted to release her frustration in a blood-curdling scream. She wouldn't give in to the temptation. Only a woman who had no recourse would resort to such an outlet. Grace had years of experience in stifling her true feelings. She pushed back the surface emotions, determined to find out the truth.
Tyler returned and handed her a cup of coffee. The last thing she needed was caffeine. For a moment, she contemplated flinging the hot liquid in his face, then turned her back before the temptation overcame her.
“I didn't mean to infer you were my case,” Tyler said, his voice too near for comfort.
She inched away, putting more distance between them. “So, I'm not your case?”
“No.”
She turned and glared at him through narrowed eyes.
He threw up his arms. “All right. You're my case.” He flopped into a chair. “Sit down, Grace.”
She pressed her lips together. She took orders from no man.
He heaved a loud and obviously frustrated breath of air. “I moved to Foxfire to start a veterinarian practice. I needed to make a new start. I was sick of working undercover, and there were too many bad memories in Ohio.”
“What does that have to do with me?” She fought to keep the anger under control.
“Max Clayton.”
She felt a nerve twitch beneath her eye. “I don't know anyone named Max,” she lied.
“Three people have been murdered. All of them testified in the trial.” A muscle jumped in his clenched jaw. “We think Max fled the country after his escape, but he's back now, maybe with a new face.”
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