by Pamela Clare
“Sixteen eighty-eight, copy on the DBT. Nineteen twenty-eight.”
“Sixteen twenty-seven, on site. We’ll handle the DBT. Tone out the ME.” That was Hawke, who, in addition to being a primary Team member and a new father, served as the town’s fire chief.
Dispatch replied again with the time. “Toning out the ME. Nineteen twenty-nine.”
Conrad had been a part of rescues like this—kids who’d been washed away by swift mountain streams, suicides, people who’d gone hiking alone, gotten lost, and been killed by hypothermia, falls, rock slides. Hawke and his crew would put what was left of the guy in a body bag and drive him to the medical examiner’s lab in Boulder. Someone would have to tell this guy’s parents that he was gone, breaking their hearts forever.
Conrad’s pulse picked up, the sensation of tightness rising into his throat, making it hard to breathe. He stood and, without saying goodbye, left Ops, climbed into his SUV, and drove home.
What the hell was wrong with him?
It was only when he pulled into his driveway that he realized he hadn’t put Gabby in her carrier. He was still holding her.
Kenzie drove home, feeling sick. She hated searches that ended with a dead body. Those poor parents. Though Kenzie wasn’t an ME, it looked to her like the guy had slipped from the cliff above and broken his neck.
She brushed Gizmo, settled him with his supper, then took a quick shower to wash away the feeling of death. She put on a sundress and walked to Knockers, where she knew the rest of the Team would gather. It was a tradition to let off steam together at the brewpub after a rescue, regardless of the outcome. Caribou Joe—Joe Moffat, the pub’s owner—always had a table waiting for them.
She stepped inside, the strains of bluegrass music coming from the stage, the tables full. It was Friday night, after all, and this was the only brewpub in town.
Cheyenne Taylor, Austin’s younger sister, met her just inside the front door. Tall and blond, Cheyenne had taken on the job of host when Rain was promoted to general manager. With Rain on maternity leave, Cheyenne was more or less doing both jobs now. She didn’t have Rain’s cheerful disposition, but she had mastered the caustic comment.
Everyone missed Rain.
“Sorry about today. I guess you can’t win them all.” Cheyenne handed Kenzie a menu and pointed. “They’re all back at the usual table.”
Kenzie threaded her way to the corner, where Megs and Ahearn sat together with Julia Marcs and most of the primary members and some spouses—Austin and Lexi with little Emily, Eric and Victoria with their new baby, Creed Herrera, Sasha Dillon, Nicole Turner, Malachi O’Brien, Isaac Rogers, Jesse Moretti with his wife Ellie and the twins, and Chaska Belcourt and his wife Naomi and sister Winona.
“Hey, Kenz.” Lexi waved.
Eric gave her a nod. “There you are.”
“How you holding up, Kenzie?” Austin asked.
“I’m fine.” She walked over to Vicki Hawke, peered down at the tiny baby boy in her arms. “Congratulations! This must be little Caden. Welcome to the world, little guy. God, he’s precious!”
He was sleeping now, two little fists clutched to his face, his dark hair mostly hidden beneath a blue knitted cap.
Kenzie wanted to kiss his chubby cheeks. “How are you feeling?”
Vicki had had an emergency C-section. “I’m healing.”
Eric put his arm around his wife’s shoulder and looked down at his infant son, love shining on his face. He kissed Vicki’s cheek. “She’d be doing better if this little dude would let her sleep more than two hours at a time.”
Kenzie would give almost anything to have a man look at her like that.
Vicki smiled. “He’s finally nursing well. Eric stayed home for the first two weeks, but he has the firehouse to run. Robin has been a godsend. I don’t know what I would do without her.”
Robin was Eric’s mother. She lived down the mountain from Eric and Vicki.
“I’m glad she’s been able to help.” Kenzie watched the baby sleep. “He really is perfect.”
Vicki kissed his forehead. “Thanks. We think so.”
Kenzie glanced around the almost-full table, looking for a seat.
“Sit by me.” Winona, a wildlife vet, scooted to make room for Kenzie, patting the bench beside her. The two had bonded over their love of animals when Winona had moved to Scarlet Springs with her wolf, Shota, to start her wildlife rehabilitation clinic. “How are you really?”
Kenzie had learned that the Belcourts didn’t waste words on unimportant things. Born and raised on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, they were Oglala Lakota. If they asked you how you were doing, they truly wanted to know.
“I’m okay, I guess.” It wasn’t the first time Kenzie and Gizmo had gone searching for a live person and found a corpse. “I wish we’d had a different outcome. I always feel so bad when parents lose a child, even an adult child.”
Winona’s brow bent in a thoughtful frown. “You and Gizmo brought those parents closure. You enabled them to bring their son home. That’s something at least.”
“Yes. True.” Worse than finding a corpse was finding nothing and leaving a family with unanswered questions and the agony of false hope.
“Good work today,” Megs called from across the table.
“Thanks, but Gizmo deserves the praise.”
Megs gave her a sarcastic look. “Right—because he taught himself how to find bodies. What a smart dog.”
Their server came—a young woman Kenzie had seen walking down the street with a crash pad on her back. New to Scarlet, she was obviously here for the climbing. “I’m Sam. I’m new here. Can I get you something to drink—a brew, wine, one of Marcia’s concoctions?”
“I’ll have a Sex in the Spotlight.” It was Kenzie’s favorite drink, although she’d never participated in the activity after which it had been named.
Sam took the rest of her order. “I’ll get that drink over here as soon as I can. I heard what happened today. Thanks for what you do.”
Megs waited for the server to leave. “Conrad came by The Cave today. He had Gabby with him.”
Creed looked surprised at this news. “Conrad is back?”
“Seriously, man, do you pay attention to your Team emails at all?” Malachi asked. “Megs went to Nepal and brought him back two weeks ago. He left the Team, and he’s lying low for now. I don’t think he wants company.”
“Well, shit. I should give him a call,” Creed reached into his pocket for his phone.
Megs turned to Creed. “What you need to give him is space.”
Kenzie needed to know. “How was he? Did he seem like he was managing?”
Megs nodded. “He said Gabby had had an accident, but he kept that puppy close. You’re a genius. I think he’s in love.”
The words “in love” made Kenzie’s pulse skip.
If only Harrison loved her as much as he loved her puppy.
Conrad turned over, put a pillow over his head, trying to sleep. But it was no good. Gabby cried and whimpered in her crate.
He’d just taken her outside to go potty, so it couldn’t be that.
He threw back the sheet, climbed out of bed, and walked naked to the kitchen to read through Kenzie’s instructions again.
It’s not unusual for a small puppy to whine or cry at night. It’s important that she gets used to sleeping in her crate. As long as she’s gone potty recently and has her blanket and a toy, she is fine. It will pass. DON’T TAKE THE PUPPY OUT OF HER CRATE AND BRING HER INTO YOUR BED. It will just make the problem worse.
Well, it was after midnight, and Gabby was still crying.
It broke his heart, but then he wasn’t a dog trainer. Kenzie knew what she was doing—didn’t she?
He took a leak, washed his hands, and went back to bed, doing his best to ignore the whimpers. Five minutes. Ten. Twenty.
It felt so mean to ignore the puppy.
Thirty minutes.
“Damn it.” Why, exactly, had he agreed
to do this?
You want to get inside Kenzie’s pants. That’s why.
He sat up, looked over at the crate, a shaft of moonlight shining through the frilly curtains to reveal Gabby looking pleadingly up at him.
That was it.
He got out of bed, opened the crate, and lifted Gabby into his arms.
She wagged her tail, licked his face, clearly happy to have contact with another living creature.
He got back into bed, settling Gabby beside him. “Don’t tell your mommy you slept with me, okay, little girl?”
That didn’t sound pervy at all.
Gabby curled up, closed her eyes, and fell asleep, allowing Conrad finally to do the same.
Chapter 5
Conrad swung like a pendulum in mid-air, dangling above an abyss, ice all around him, enclosing him like a tomb. Heart thudding, he glanced around, tried to figure out where he was and what the hell had happened. He reached for the rope that was tied into his harness, but something frozen in the ice caught his gaze.
“Bruce!” Conrad stared in horror, his shout echoing along the crevasse.
God, was Bruce dead?
He must be. He was blue and encased in the ice, like a fish in a frozen sea.
“No!” Conrad’s throat constricted. “No.”
The rope supporting Conrad’s weight moved slowly in a circle, turning him away from Bruce to reveal more shapes in the ice, blue on ghostly blue.
Luka. Felix.
God, no.
One was arching backward as if caught in a backflip, a look of terror on his face, the other curled in a fetal position. Both frozen. Both dead.
The serac.
Conrad remembered now. It had collapsed. It must have knocked him into the crevasse—and buried the others.
Refusing to accept this, Conrad caught the rope in a fist and began to climb it, hand over hand, trying to free himself. Then he noticed what he hadn’t before.
His blood went cold.
The ice was moving. It was closing in around him.
Then something licked his face and whined.
Conrad woke with a gasp to find Gabby sitting on his chest, licking him and whimpering. Confused, he fought to rein in his adrenaline, to figure out what the hell was going on.
A nightmare.
He’d been having a nightmare, and Gabby had woken him. He held the puppy close, accepting her kisses, his throat going tight.
The dream had felt so damned real.
He was here in his bed in Scarlet, but Bruce, Luka, and Felix—they were gone, buried beneath the ice forever.
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
The torrent of his emotions seemed to catch in his throat, bringing him to a sitting position, a rush of rage and despair making him want to do something. But there was nothing he could do.
Nothing at all.
It was a damned miracle he’d gotten out of there alive.
Gabby pranced on the bed beside him, wagging her tail.
Conrad glanced at the clock. It was almost five. “You have to pee, don’t you?”
He scooped her up, carried her to the back door, and stepped outside with her, not caring that he was naked. Who would see him at this hour?
Okay, so it was a bit cold, close to freezing.
He stood next to the back door, freezing his nuts off and watching while Gabby walked a short distance away from the door and squatted down to pee. He hoped she would be quick about it and do her business before his testicles sought refuge in his throat.
Whose fault is it that you’re standing out here naked?
It sure as hell wasn’t the puppy’s fault.
From somewhere nearby, he heard the hoot of a great horned owl. He glanced around, saw its dark outline high in the branches of a nearby tree.
He loved owls. Beautiful birds.
It hooted again and then took to the sky, gliding toward the house on silent wings.
Gabby.
Shit.
She had finished piddling and had wandered over to the fence line where she was busy sniffing God only knew what.
Conrad ran, bare feet against the frosty grass, his gaze searching for the owl. A dark slash of wings against the sky. Talons reaching.
“Get out of here!” He waved his arm and shouted at the owl to frighten and distract it, sending it skyward again. He scooped the puppy into his arms.
The owl soared back into the tree.
Conrad looked at Gabby, his pulse still pounding. “You were almost breakfast. You understand that you’re snack-sized, don’t you?”
Gabby wagged her tail, clearly not getting it.
“That owl could have carried you off and eaten you.” He headed toward the back door, his feet freezing. “I need to be more careful when I let you outside.”
How would he have been able to explain that to Kenzie?
Sorry, but an owl swooped down and carried Gabby away.
He’d gotten lucky.
“Hey, mister!” An older woman’s voice came from next door. “Get some pants on! What kind of neighborhood do you think this is?”
Conrad glanced around and saw a woman’s head sticking out of one of her back windows, curlers in her hair. “Sorry, ma’am. I had to save my puppy from an owl.”
She wasn’t appeased. “I look outside to see what all the noise is about, and I see you running around with your frank and beans hanging out!”
Frank and beans?
Conrad fought not to laugh. “It won’t happen again.”
The woman slammed the window shut.
He stepped through the back door into the warmth of the kitchen and carried Gabby back to the bedroom, determined to get a few more hours of sleep.
Gizmo woke Kenzie two minutes before her alarm was set to go off. She unlocked the doggy door so he could go outside and then opened the blinds in the kitchen. The weather had changed overnight, leaving frost on the grass. Clouds hung low over the mountains, hiding the high peaks from view.
Kenzie went back upstairs and threw on a pair of jeans and a sweater. She had an impulse to text Harrison to see how his first night with Gabby had gone, but she didn’t want to risk waking him. She knew only too well how a puppy could disrupt sleep.
When Gizmo came back inside, she fed him, then put on her rubber boots and led him over to the kennel, where her boarders were anxiously waiting for their own trip outdoors—and breakfast.
She stepped inside to excited yaps, barks, and wagging tails.
“Good morning to you, too.” She opened the kennels with the press of a button, and the dogs dashed out, or trundled, as in the case of Miss Piggy, a plump Chihuahua. Most headed out the dog doors to the play yard, but Crank, the pit bull, rolled onto his back, demanding belly rubs. “You’re just a big lover boy, aren’t you?”
Tongue lolling, paws bent in front of his chest, he seemed to grin at her.
By the time Inéz, her weekend manager, arrived at seven, Kenzie had fed the dogs, given Miss Piggy her medication, and poop-scooped the play yard, something she and her staff did several times a day depending on the number of dogs boarding with them. That was the reason for her rubber boots. They cleaned easily if she happened to step in dog poo—a hazard of the job.
Yes, her life was glamorous.
“I’ll take it from here.” Inéz scratched Bentley, a spoiled Goldendoodle, behind the ears. “What a sweet doggy you are.”
“Thanks.” Kenzie left Gizmo with Inéz, hurried home for a quick shower, then made a quick trip to Food Mart for a box of donuts.
Saturdays were Puppy Kindergarten days.
The training room back at the kennel was an ice box. Kenzie set the donuts on the table, turned on the heat, and made a big pot of coffee. This was the second week for this class. Last week, they’d done the human-only orientation. Training puppies to become happy, manageable dogs was largely about training people. She’d gone over crate training and how to deal with some challenges they might face at home, like puppies that nipped
people or damaged furniture, and conflicts between the new puppy and other pets.
This week, the fun began.
She set out supplies for the class—lots of puppy treats, flyers about puppy training, and spare leashes for anyone who’d forgotten theirs. Then she arranged chairs in a wide circle and took out the items they would use for puppy playtime—a rolled-up square of artificial turf, a small set of stairs, a crinkly tunnel to run through, a shiny metal trash can, an exam table like one might find at the vet, and lots of balls.
Puppy Kindergarten involved teaching puppies a few basic commands, but it was mostly about socialization—giving puppies a chance to play together so they would learn that other dogs were their friends. It also involved handling their paws and touching their tummies so they would be more cooperative during vet visits, and exposing them to strangers and different kinds of sounds and objects so they wouldn’t be afraid.
Dogs that feared the world could become aggressive.
She finished with a little time to spare. She poured herself a cup of coffee, stirred in creamer, and sat outside in her parka. The scent of fall was in the air, summer now in full retreat. It was her favorite time of year.
Her cellphone buzzed.
Harrison.
Holy mother of hotness.
He’d sent her a photo of himself cuddling Gabby against his bare chest. His hair was tangled, and there were circles beneath his gray eyes, but he was smiling.
Then came the text message.
Proof of life.
Kenzie laughed, typed out a reply.
Did she let you sleep?
Conrad responded immediately.
A little.
Kenzie wished she were with the two of them rather than about to teach a class. On impulse, she made an offer.
Want to come to my puppy kindergarten class? There are donuts.
She waited for an answer, hoping that Harrison would say yes. It would be good for him and for Gabby.
Admit it. You just want to spend time with him.
