Chloe wouldn’t ever bring it up again.
Bonnie led them into a back room with two walls of stainless steel kennels stacked four high, and larger pens across the back wall.
Amidst a cacophony of barking, Bonnie took them to the farthest corner, where a warming lamp hung over a pen. “Dr. Weldon had us clean her up last night before doing the surgery. We did our best, given her wounds, and we had to clip the worst of the matting, so she looks a bit threadbare. But before she goes home, we’ll give her another bath. She’ll look even better.”
“What?” Devlin looked between Chloe and the vet tech.
Chloe raised her voice and repeated Bonnie’s words as she reached the pen.
“Oh, my word,” Chloe breathed as she looked down at the stray. She was lying on a thick foam bed, sleeping. “You’ve done an amazing job!”
The poor thing had been a bedraggled, matted grey mop before, almost indistinguishable as a dog. Now, though her matted hair had been clipped short in numerous places, her remaining coat was fluffy and nearly white, except for a solid black ear.
Chloe stepped around an IV bag hanging from a pole next to the pen, with a tube running to the dog’s good front leg. The other front leg was encased in a bright green cast. Once again she spoke loudly over the barking dogs. “How long will she need the splint and bandages?”
“We’ll have to see how well she does.” Bonnie studied the IV, then smiled fondly at the sleeping dog. “She’s on IV antibiotics and fluids right now, and is eating special, high-nutrition dog food. A dog of this size and breed should weigh at least thirty pounds more than she does. But her appetite is good, so she should do well. And she’s a complete sweetheart. You can see she is so grateful for attention and a soft bed. Have you decided on a name?”
Bonnie had caught the hint and she spoke more loudly, though she was facing the dog instead of Devlin as she spoke.
Devlin’s gaze skated over to Chloe, and she saw pure frustration in his eyes. “Bonnie, could we step out of the kennel? It’s too hard for Dev and me to hear in here.”
They followed the tech out into the hall, where she closed the door behind them to mute the barking. “I know,” she said with a smile. “All of those dogs are wanting to go home. I was just trying to ask about what name you want to give her.”
Chloe saw Devlin watching the woman’s lips as she spoke.
He shrugged. “No idea. Chloe?”
“She looks like a polar bear to me—or she will, once all of her fur grows back. Bear? Or Tramp, since she’s been wandering for so long? I like Daisy. Or—”
“Whoa.” Devlin held up a hand. “This could be just temporary if someone comes to claim her. What do you think, Bonnie?”
She smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “I don’t think we have a Daisy as a patient these days. I think it’s a good fit for a gentle pooch like her.”
Chloe nodded. “And sweet for an older dog. At least I’d guess she’s not very young. Does Dr. Weldon have any idea how old she is?”
“It’s harder to tell in adult dogs. You can’t detect muzzle whitening given her color, but the vet guessed four to six, maybe seven years, as her eyes are still clear and bright, and she doesn’t show signs of arthritic pain. But it’s just a guess.”
“Then Daisy it is, and she’s one lucky dog.” Devlin gave Chloe a lopsided grin. “Because if the twins had anything to do with naming her, I’ll bet she would be Fluffy.”
“Dr. Weldon thought this was Leonard Farley’s service dog.” Chloe bit her lower lip, not wanting to bring the subject up yet, knowing it was the right thing to do. “Still, there’s surely a chance she was abandoned or even lost. What do you recommend we do?”
“Given her condition and breed, it would be a mighty big coincidence if Daisy belonged to anyone else. We just don’t see many Great Pyrenees around here,” Bonnie said firmly. “If she was his service dog, she probably stayed with his body for a long time after Leonard died, then maybe got desperate for food and finally left. Or maybe she just panicked and ran. We’ve seen it before. Say there’s a car crash or a house fire—the dog escapes and then just runs and runs until hopelessly lost. Sometimes they’re found. Sometimes not.”
“But if Daisy does have a family, children missing her...”
“Well, dear, you’re certainly welcome to put up a notice on our billboard. Do you not want to keep her?”
“Of course I do, if I know there isn’t a heartbroken owner somewhere.” She gave Devlin an uncertain glance. “Though maybe Devlin should have her since he insists on covering the vet bills.”
Devlin lifted his hands, palms forward. “Nope. I’ll only be around for a short while, and I have no idea where I’ll end up or what kind of place I’ll have next. She wouldn’t have a good home with me.”
Bonnie smiled at Chloe kindly. “Then I’m 99 percent sure you’ve got yourself a dog. But if you insist on advertising, there are also billboards at the Laundromat and the grocery store. Just be vague about your description and sure you don’t put a photo on your flyers. Using ‘big white dog’ would suffice.”
“Because...”
“Someone might think they could nab a Great Pyrenees for free. But if they have to describe their lost dog to you, probably only the real owner—or a friend of Leonard’s—would know about that totally black ear. I could be wrong, but far as I know that’s an unusual color for that breed.”
“Good idea.”
“You might even want to ask for proof—like a family photo with the dog or something.” Bonnie lifted a shoulder. “Just to be sure. I know you wouldn’t want her to fall into the wrong hands.”
* * *
After picking up calf-milk replacer and a half dozen red-mineral and white-salt blocks at the feed store, Devlin turned the truck for home.
Chloe watched him from the corner of her eye, feeling pensive and unsure of whether she should say anything or not. He’d been less distant today. Would this be a good time to ask something personal? What were old friends for but complete honesty?
“So, Devlin,” she said in her normal tone. “Pretty good news about Daisy, right?”
His brow furrowed. He cut a quick glance at her before turning his attention back to the arrow-straight road leading to the foothills.
She raised her voice. “Devlin.”
That small, telltale muscle jerked along the side of his jaw. “What?”
“I hope you won’t mind me asking, but it seems like you have trouble hearing sometimes,” she said tactfully. “Did that happen while you were in the military?”
His mouth flattened to a straight, hard line and his eyes narrowed.
“I’m only asking because I’m concerned. It’s got to be tough, missing out on what people are saying.”
“I hear you just fine,” he bit out, his attention riveted on the highway.
“That’s because I’ve learned I have to stand closer and talk a lot louder. And I make sure I’m facing you, since I noticed that you read lips.”
He shot a look of disbelief and irritation at her.
“Honest, I’d just like to help.”
He heaved a sigh, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white. “And how can you do what no one else could?”
The sharp edge in his voice made her feel like he’d sliced off a corner of her heart, but she couldn’t stop now. “Did you get second opinions? Research procedures and success rates across the country for fixing whatever is wrong? Or did you just give up when a busy intern said nothing could be done?”
He didn’t answer.
“I’m only asking because I care, Dev. Did they try—really try—to find a hearing aid that would work?”
“None have worked well. I’m wearing some right now, though they’re almost invisible. They make little difference.”
His voice was low and level, and brimming w
ith such frustration that she didn’t know what to say.
He drove several miles in silence, his jaw clenched and his attention riveted on the road ahead. “Look, I appreciate your concern, but the docs were clear about what I can expect,” he said finally, slanting an impatient glance in her direction. “I have trouble with sound in the mid-to-higher range, and given my injuries, it won’t get better.”
“But still, with advances in—”
“No. I’ll probably keep partial hearing on the left, but they think I might eventually lose my hearing entirely on the right. I also lost partial vision in my right eye. With that and my shoulder, a single bomb blast ended my active-duty career in the Marines. None of that is going to change.”
“I’m so sorry.” Her eyes burning, she bowed her head, knowing she could never hope to fully understand the emotional and physical trauma he had been through. She tried to dredge up an encouraging smile. “Then again, you are truly blessed. It could have been worse, right?”
“You think I don’t know that? That I don’t think every single day about the friends I lost? The ones who are now severely disabled?” He gave her an incredulous look. “Wonderful guys. Husbands, fathers. Guys who would’ve made a bigger impact on this world than me. I know I have no right to complain, and I try not to. I was just explaining since you seem so all-fired curious. And now that topic is closed.”
If only she could eat her words.
She’d only wanted to be his cheerleader and to bring up the positives in his life. Instead she’d inadvertently been condescending and disrespectful, and if he never forgave her presumptuous words, she wouldn’t be surprised. It did not pay to be an oblivious Pollyanna.
When he pulled to a stop by the barn to unload the back of the pickup, she gathered her courage. “I’m sorry, Dev. I truly meant no disrespect and I won’t bring it up again. I just want to offer you one thing. If it would be any help, I could start teaching you to sign while I’m here. Then you’d at least have a start at it if...the doctors are right about you becoming deaf later on.”
But just as she expected, he didn’t answer.
* * *
After unloading the pickup, Devlin saddled one of the two-year-olds and got to work in the arena.
Yesterday the young mare had been calm and steady. Today she shied at the motion of a barn cat just outside the arena. Threw in a spine-jarring crow hop when he eased her into a lope. Fought the bit when he asked her to back up.
And then he finally realized that it was him, not her.
He took a slow breath and forced himself to let go of the tension in his spine and the emotions tying his stomach into one big knot. He tried to set aside Chloe’s words. Sign language. A crutch he didn’t want to even think about.
He rode the mare around the arena at an easy walk before pivoting and trying the lope in a different direction. This time she made the transition smoothly.
Deciding to stop on a good note, he dismounted in the center of the arena and took her back to the barn. Then he worked the rest of the horses one after another until it was time for chores.
It wasn’t until he swung out of the saddle on the last horse that he noticed Chloe watching him through the picture window in the tack room, an elbow propped on the window sill, her chin resting on her upraised palm. He felt his heart take an extra beat at just the sight of her.
But her expression was pensive, not friendly. She didn’t respond when he nodded to her. And she was gone by the time he led the mare into the barn. Had she been there the whole time?
The bigger question was why she’d even bothered.
He’d been mulling over their trip to town, replaying all of the ways their conversation had gone terribly wrong. The awkward, tension-filled exchange over things he refused to talk about with anyone. Her chipper effort to be positive—even while zeroing in on the most painful parts of his life like a heat-seeking missile with perfect aim, ripping away the scabs from the places he’d tried his hardest to forget.
As if she could help.
She always meant well. He probably owed her an apology. But there was nothing she could do. Every effort at the VA to save his hearing and improve the eyesight in his right eye had resulted in failure and bitter disappointment, until he finally accepted the truth and decided to give up and move on.
Until he’d learned about the job in New York and the chance to start a new and exciting career, anyway.
Now that he could see a bright future ahead, he would do everything in his power to avoid throwing that chance away—if it meant running and lifting weights until he dropped, followed by every physical-therapy exercise in the world.
But Chloe’s assumption about finding a miraculous cure to improve his hearing was just flat wrong.
After letting the twins’ pup go outside for a while, he threw the ball and played fetch, though assault was probably the operative term.
With each retrieve, forty pounds of half-grown puppy hurtled into his knees, nearly knocking him flat, or launched joyously at his chin, almost decking him twice. It was like having a buffalo running amok.
The pup would go on all day, nonstop, but twenty minutes was more than enough for Devlin.
His cell phone chirped as he was heading for the laundry room to fill Poofy’s food and water bowls. When he saw his brother’s name on the screen, he switched the phone to speaker—on the loudest volume—and put it on the counter so he could feed the pup and grab a cup of coffee. “So, how’s it going? Good vacation, or is it time to come home?”
“The girls loved the two days at Disneyland. Now we’re at a hotel outside San Diego, waiting to meet up with Lindsey and her stepmom at a restaurant. I hope this goes well.”
Knowing his youngest cousin, Devlin had his doubts. After Lindsey had dropped the twins off at the ranch the Christmas before last, she’d completely disappeared for a year to lead a wild life. Still, according to Jess, she was finally doing better, had reconnected with her estranged stepmother, and had been in and out of residential treatment facilities for her drug addictions and depression.
Poofy pawed at Devlin’s leg and he bent down to stroke his silky fur. “Are they excited about seeing their mom again?”
“Subdued, actually. Since our adoption papers were finalized, they’ve rarely spoken about her. We have her photo on the mantle and are ready and willing to talk about her anytime, but they just aren’t interested.”
“Maybe they’re afraid you’re going to give them back.” Though no one had said as much, Devlin could guess at the kind of uncertain, vagabond life the twins had experienced before being taken in by Jess and Grandma Betty.
“Lindsey insisted on fully relinquishing her rights to us, and for that I’m thankful. When I told her we wanted to come for a short visit this week, her first response was ‘okay, but I don’t want the girls back, if that’s what you’re thinking.’” Jess sighed heavily. “I’m just glad she has a clear head about not being capable of parenting the girls. She’s led a very troubled life.”
“It was a done deal anyway, once her rights were terminated. Right?”
“Right. I just hope I’m doing the right thing by maintaining some contact between her and the girls. The social workers have encouraged it, but I guess we’ll see how this little visit goes. So, how is everything back home?”
“I’m working the two-year-olds, and they’re fine. Ten more calves born and two new foals—nice paint fillies—since you left. I’ll text you some photos.”
“Good news.” There was a hint of a grin in his voice. “Anything else?”
At that moment Devlin knew Jess had known all along about Chloe’s ‘surprise’ arrival.
“You could’ve told me.”
“What?”
“Before y’all left, Betty mentioned that someone would be coming to rent a cabin, but she didn’t say who.”
“Ahh
h.” Jess cleared his throat. “So how’s that going?”
“What do you think? It’s Chloe. Surely you remember her?”
“I remember a sweet little girl who followed you everywhere. By now she’s surely a pretty gal who has plenty of handsome, successful guys chasing after her.” The laughter in Jess’s voice was unmistakable. “She probably wouldn’t give a cowboy like you the time of day, little brother.”
“Thanks,” Devlin retorted. “But being left alone would be my dream. It isn’t quite working out that way.”
This time Jess laughed out loud. “You’ve got just five days ’til we’re home, and with your tact and charm, I’m sure you’ll survive that long. Tell her we’re all looking forward to seeing her again, will you?”
Devlin heard Jess talking to someone in the background, then he came back to his phone. “Gotta go. Lindsey and her stepmom just pulled into the parking lot.”
The connection went dead.
Devlin looked into the pup’s dark, soulful eyes. “Five days left, buddy. Seems like a long, long time to me. How are we going to manage?”
Though with the way Chloe was steering clear of him, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard after all.
Chapter Seven
On Saturday morning Chloe drove to town without bothering to mention her plans to Devlin. There was no reason she needed to, of course, and she preferred to go alone. The thought of another awkward conversation during the interminable length of open highway between the ranch and town made her mind up for sure.
After stopping at the vet clinic on the west edge of town to check on Daisy’s progress and drop off a Lost Dog flyer, she thumbtacked another flyer on the bulletin board in the Laundromat and then headed for Millers, the only grocery store in town, to do the same.
She’d stopped there briefly to buy perishables when passing through Pine Bend on her way to the ranch, but she’d been in a rush after driving seven hundred miles in one day, and hadn’t taken a good look around.
There wasn’t much to see.
High Country Homecoming Page 6
