by Amy Woods
He hadn’t meant to say so much about how he’d handled his own pain after he lost his brother, and the liquid shimmering in her eyes hit him like a punch to the gut, but if his own experience could make hers even a fraction easier to bear, then it was worth pulling the stitches out of those wounds.
For her.
There was a great deal he would do to see this woman smile—this new, complex, damaged-but-not-destroyed woman who’d quite literally walked into his life.
He reached out and took her hand, glad when she only twitched a tiny bit at his touch before letting their palms fold together.
“There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Avery’s shoulders rose a little and tension tightened her fingers around his; she didn’t seem to realize how hard she was gripping him until he asked what was bothering her.
“I’m not... I don’t really...”
“It’s okay,” Isaac said, running his thumb softly over the tips of Avery’s fingers. Her eyes were huge, and even as he focused on how to calm her, he couldn’t help but notice how their clear blue shade resembled the beautiful cloudless Texas sky above as they’d driven into town earlier. “It’s just one of my trainers, Hannah, and a puppy we’ve been working with.”
A smile spread across his lips involuntarily. “I think you’ll really like him. He’s a little fireball, but he’s got all the makings of a great service dog, if we can match him to the right person.”
She swallowed and some of the tension eased out of her grip.
“I think that person might be you, Avery.”
“I’m just not sure if I’m up for meeting someone right now. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve even—” unmistakable embarrassment crossed her features “—well, since I’ve even left the farm, aside from wandering onto your land, of course. I’m just not sure if I can handle meeting a new person yet.”
Though Avery’s jaw was set with stubborn resolve, Isaac wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her she had absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. He could see the scared girl behind the strong woman’s facade, and his instinct was to protect her from any harm or pain, but he also knew from experience that she wouldn’t get better by isolating herself from other people.
“Listen, Hannah works with combat veterans all the time, and she is one of the kindest, gentlest people I know. And I’ll be right here, right by your side,” he offered. “But if you want me to take you home, say the word and it’s done. You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, Avery.”
As he continued to hold her hand, Avery bit her lip, considering. Isaac gave her all the time in the world to decide if she was up for it and eventually, she pulled her hand from his and shook out her shoulders. “All right,” she said, tossing him a confident grin as she rubbed her palms together. “Let’s do this.”
“Okay, then. That’s my girl.”
The words were out of his mouth before he could even think, and, slightly overwhelmed with what they implied, Isaac simply turned to lead the way back to Hannah’s office near his own at the rear of the building.
But when he glanced over at Avery, he caught the smile in her eyes and the way her lips curved slightly at their corners.
Just one of those smiles, he knew, could keep him going for a week.
* * *
Avery was out of practice.
It had been over a month since she’d met someone new, before she’d stumbled into Isaac, of course.
In her job as a nurse, she’d encountered new patients every single day, and for a time after returning from war, she’d managed not to let that intimidate her. But, as she had come to realize over the past few weeks, there were some things she didn’t yet understand about her PTSD diagnosis, some things that reared their ugly heads when she least expected. Somehow, difficulty being around people she didn’t know—and, more important, didn’t know if she could trust—was one of those things. It didn’t matter that logic wasn’t involved; most citizens of sleepy, friendly Peach Leaf weren’t out to ambush her in broad daylight. It was easy to rationalize, far more difficult to put into practice.
But, like Macy always said, she could fake it till she made it.
For some reason, she wanted Isaac to be proud of her, to feel comfortable introducing her to his staff and friends, so she would put on a brave face and try to keep her trepidation from reaching the surface.
He’d looked so happy when she agreed to meet Hannah and the puppy. It was adorable, really. How long had it been since someone had been so interested in her reaction to a new situation? How long had it been since someone had dared take her out in public and have her meet new people without worrying how she might behave? She couldn’t tell if he just wasn’t aware of how big a deal it was for her, or if he was doing this intentionally, to give her a chance to feel like a real person again, a person who could be okay in normal social situations. Either way, his thoughtfulness touched a place deep within her heart and somehow lent her courage.
Plus, if she were honest, she was absolutely dying to see the pup Isaac was so excited about. It was adorable the way his face lit up over a little furry guy. As far as Avery was concerned, a guy who loved animals already had a lot going for him. Maybe that was one of the reasons she found she could trust him so easily, even though they’d known each other for less time than it took her to binge-read a new historical romance series.
And goodness, how she loved the way her hand felt in his, and the way he’d grabbed it without making a big deal out of anything. He seemed to have an intuition for what would push her just beyond her comfort zone without making her feel pressure.
He was...wonderful.
They reached a door at the end of the hallway and Isaac knocked gently before slowly pushing it open. Jane rushed forward into what Avery assumed was Hannah’s cozy office, stopping only when she reached a red-and-blue-plaid dog bed tucked into a corner. Avery yearned to see the little guy immediately, but she knew she needed to focus first on being polite to the woman who stood up from a desk and came forward to greet them, reaching out a hand.
“Hi, I’m Hannah. You must be Avery.”
Avery shook Hannah’s warm hand and, even though her heart raced a little, she was able to force herself to relax, knowing that Isaac was nearby and had her back.
“I am. It’s nice to meet you, Hannah.”
Hannah was petite with short brown hair, wide, lovely green eyes and an open smile that filled her heart-shaped face. If she was half as sweet as she looked, Avery could see why she’d be good at working with war-scarred veterans and dogs, and she could even imagine making a new friend.
“When Isaac texted to let me know you two were coming in this morning, I got so excited.” Hannah squeezed her hands into fists at her sides and her enthusiasm for her work was palpable. “We’ve been working with Foggy for a few months now, and we know he’ll be wonderful, but we just haven’t found the right person to take him home yet.”
Hannah and Isaac exchanged looks, but Avery was too interested in meeting the puppy to pay much attention.
“Can I meet him?” Avery asked.
“Of course!”
Hannah led the way over to where Jane had hightailed it upon entering the room. She stopped a few feet away from the doggie bed and called, “Foggy, come.”
Seconds later, the cutest little thing Avery had ever seen came trotting out from behind Jane and plopped his bottom down right in front of Hannah, and Avery fell instantly in love.
Chapter Seven
When she thought of service dogs, a very specific picture came to mind for Avery, and that image was about as far-flung from the little furry bundle that trotted forward at Hannah’s command as it could be. This was no regal Labrador retriever or German shepherd dog; no, this fuzzy creature looked more like he belonged on a greeting card or a
bag of dog food than in a serious working situation. Granted, he wore a little blue vest that said SERVICE DOG in bold white lettering, but other than that, he could have passed as anyone’s beloved family pet.
Avery’s hand flew to her mouth to hold off the baby talk and cooing noises that threatened to escape against her will. She was an army medic, trained to keep a clear mind and to control her emotions even under the most extreme duress. So how could one little dog turn her insides to complete mush?
Unbelievable.
She had to touch him. The urge was fierce, automatic and impossible to resist.
Avery began to reach out her arms, but Hannah gently held up a hand to prevent her from doing so. The young dog halted immediately. Hannah turned up her palm, lifted it a few inches, and the dog sat quickly and quietly in front of the two women, waiting for his next move.
Avery’s face must have registered her confusion because Hannah turned and gave her a reassuring smile. “We’re just reinforcing how to politely greet humans. Foggy’s doing wonderfully with all of the basics, and we’ve recently moved on to some more advanced commands. He’ll make someone an excellent companion and helper.”
Hannah beamed with pride at her little charge, whose tail slowly began to swish back and forth.
“Foggy?” Avery asked, and Hannah nodded.
“Because of his coloring.”
“It suits him.”
And it did. He was the cutest, scruffiest little mess she’d ever seen, with a coat of wiry fur in all possible shades of gray. Avery hadn’t known there could be so many. His paws and forearms were snowy white, resulting in what looked for all the world like four little boots, and his tail appeared to have been pinned on as an afterthought, for it was long, thick and black as coal, mismatched from the rest of his little body. And his face—oh, that face—a large black nose surrounded by smoky whiskers, mustache and beard, dark-rimmed, huge brown eyes with long midnight lashes, and triangle-shaped ears that bent forward at their tips like little question marks. And her favorite part of all—bushy gray eyebrows that curved over and down into his eyes. It was a wonder he could see at all, but they were too cute to trim.
That face could thaw the iciest of hearts, Avery mused. This little bundle of innocent happiness was in stark contrast to all of the dark things she’d seen; it didn’t make sense to her, in that moment, that humans could be so evil in a world that was home to creatures such as Foggy the dog. Her chest swelled and tightened and moisture poised behind her eyes.
“Yeah,” Hannah whispered at her side. “I know, right?”
Avery couldn’t speak without blubbering cutesy nonsense, so she simply nodded and stood staring for another long moment. When Hannah’s tentative touch grazed her forearm, she jumped a little, then apologized.
“No, no—don’t you do that,” Hannah said, her voice laden with tenderness.
“Can I pet him?”
“Of course, darling. Go right ahead. Just hold your hand out like this—” Hannah squatted down and held out her hand, low, palm up, demonstrating “—so he can meet you.”
Avery followed Hannah’s lead and Foggy sniffed at her hand, his cold wet nose tickling her skin. Satisfied that they were now friends, he looked up at her with his giant eyes and wagged his tail at top speed. He spun in two quick circles and then showed her his good-boy sit again, offering up a paw.
Avery shook it and then laughed, covering her heart with a hand, feeling lighter than she had in ages. This happy little dog made joy surge inside her like a wave, and the foreignness of all that raw emotion—the sort she’d come in contact with so frequently since meeting Isaac—was almost too much to bear. She reached down and stroked Foggy’s ears, slowly calming as she ran her fingers over their velvety fur. It was the same effect she’d experienced when she had pet Jane for the first time the week before, except, it seemed, even more special.
It occurred to her that this little guy could be her dog, and she could be his person, if he liked her as much as she already liked him, and if Isaac and Hannah agreed it was a good match. She might actually get the honor of being his dog mom, and, if Isaac was right, Foggy could help her with some of her PTSD symptoms; he could help her take care of herself a bit better.
They could take care of each other.
On top of that, she would have someone to look after, someone to love—someone who saw only Avery, not the bad stuff that had happened to her, not the mistakes she’d made or her bad calls, or the fact that it was her fault she had lost her best friend. Foggy wouldn’t judge her the way people did, and he wasn’t scared to be near her.
As she looked into his eyes and ran her hands along his sweet muzzle, she felt an instant bond that surpassed all logic, reason and science. It was like she knew they belonged together.
She ruffled the fur on Foggy’s head and it stuck out in a thousand directions, making Avery and Hannah laugh. Then she tilted back on her heels and stood up, catching Isaac’s gaze from a few feet away. What she found there nearly overwhelmed her. He looked so selflessly pleased to see Avery getting along with the dog, it was as if his happiness and hopes for her were even bigger than her own.
He cared for her—it was written all over his face—and that scared the living daylights out of her.
The last non-family member Avery had cared for, had loved, was laid to rest in the Peach Leaf Cemetery.
She tore her eyes from Isaac and pushed aside Sophie’s memory. Nothing she did could bring back her best friend; Avery would have to live with that for the rest of her days, but what she could do, what was in her power now, was to make sure something like that never happened again. And the best way to prevent someone she cared about from getting hurt was to keep her distance.
She decided then and there that she would let Isaac help her, and she would let herself spend time with him so that she could get better, so that she could be trusted again by her own family, so that she could get her life back together. And she would even allow herself to love this little dog. It was healthy to love, her therapist said, it was good for Avery to have reasons to get out of bed every day, but she would exercise extreme caution when it came to Isaac Meyer. She couldn’t let him get too close. She’d already proven that she was dangerous, that for someone to risk loving her was potentially lethal, and she wouldn’t let it happen again if she could help it.
* * *
What Isaac felt when he watched Avery meet Foggy was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. In all of his years matching veterans with dogs, he’d seen plenty of compatibility and plenty of love grow from just a tiny mutual need for someone to care for. But this...this was something special. He could tell instantly that dog and woman were perfect for each other. Inside he breathed a sigh of relief, and when he exchanged glances with Hannah, he knew she was doing the same thing.
They had taken a chance on Foggy. Instead of the usual routine where they chose a puppy from a reputable breeder with a line of dogs of appropriate temperament, Foggy was an experiment, one that Isaac hoped with every ounce of his being would work out.
He caught Avery watching him out of the corner of his eye.
“Where did you find this little dude?” she asked, almost as if she’d picked up on his line of thought.
Isaac cleared his throat. “Foggy’s from the local shelter.”
“Oh,” Avery said, not sounding surprised.
“Up until now, we’ve only worked with dogs raised specifically for therapy and service, but Hannah and I happened to visit the veterinarian a few months back to check on an injured cat she had found and taken in—she adopted him when he was free to go after surgery—and we met Foggy.”
Isaac watched Avery, trying to decide how much to tell her. Working with animals wasn’t always easy; heartbreaks happened now and then, and he didn’t want to cause her undue pain. At the same time, though,
Avery was tough, and if she was going to adopt Foggy, she deserved to know as much about him as she could.
“He was unwanted and abused by his owner, whose dog apparently wasn’t spayed and had puppies with a stray. The doctor found Foggy on his clinic doorstep one morning along with his brothers and sisters, and he fixed them all up. Luckily they all found good homes, but Fogs was the last one and he was on his way to the shelter that morning when Hannah and I showed up.”
Avery listened intently, her beautiful face full of emotion as she hung on to his every word, hungry for knowledge about the dog, just like a new parent learning to take care of a baby. She would make an amazing dog mom, Isaac thought again.
“It took him a little while to warm up to us, and then we had to get him to trust us, which took even longer, but from day one, he’s been calm and easy, and, miracle of miracles, he doesn’t overreact to stimuli. He’s got all the makings of an awesome service companion. He’s just special, I guess, despite what’s happened to him, and we just couldn’t bring ourselves to pass him up.”
If Isaac could, he would take every animal home with him from the shelter. They all deserved far better than the cards life had dealt them. And now that he’d realized how much he could help them, he knew it would be the very hardest part of his job to visit that place and have to select which ones to take with him.
Avery nodded.
“After we found him, Hannah and I decided that we only want to work with shelter dogs from now on. It’ll take some extra legwork to make sure that we find dogs with the characteristics needed to do this job.”
“What kinds of things do you look for?” she asked, bending back down to rub Foggy’s back as the dog reveled in her undivided attention.
“Friendliness, confidence in lots of different situations and with different types of people, predictable, steady behavior, and—most important—temperament. Dogs, even ones who have been severely mistreated, can almost always be rehabilitated if people spend the time and effort necessary to do so, but they’re not always good candidates to be service animals. For that, we need to make sure that we’re choosing dogs who have never, and aren’t likely to, display any kind of aggression.”
