by Erin Wright
Abby took a deep breath, the heartbreaking story wrenching at her heart. Wyatt may have screwed up; Wyatt may have made poor life choices, but that didn’t mean his dog should die.
She also knew her dad would freak out if he found out that she was letting Wyatt’s dog in here.
But hadn’t her father said to “just take care of Wyatt” and that he’d back her in whatever she chose to do?
He probably hadn’t been thinking about dogs when he’d said that, but hell, that was just too damn bad. If he was going to offload Wyatt Miller onto her shoulders, he couldn’t then complain about how she dealt with that problem.
She just had to hope that the dog didn’t have fleas.
“Bring her on by. When were you thinking?”
“Tomorrow afternoon. Will you be here?”
The unspoken part of that question was that they both knew that if Declan brought a dog in while a different officer were on duty, they’d be turned away at the door. It had to be done while Abby was here, and they both knew it.
“Yeah, from 3 to 7. I’ll be out on patrol before then.”
“I’ll be here between 3 and 7, then. Thanks.” With a flash of a handsome smile that did absolutely nothing for Abby, Declan headed for the front doors.
She sank into the office chair behind the front desk with a sigh. She was about to do royal battle with her dad over this, and even though she knew she was right, that didn’t mean it would be easy.
Chapter 9
Wyatt
Ooowwww oooowwww ooowwwww…
Wyatt heard Maggie Mae’s distinctive howl just as he heard nails scrambling on the concrete floor and he jackknifed up, his heart pounding. Surely, surely, they weren’t letting Maggie into the jail. That just wasn’t something Sheriff Connelly would allow.
But Maggie came scrambling into view, her legs going every which way on the concrete as she tried to launch herself through the bars at Wyatt.
Ooowwww oooowwww ooowwwww…She howled with delight, shoving her head through the bars, her tail wagging so fast, her hind legs kept falling over. She was literally quivering with delight.
He launched himself at the bars, letting her tongue lap at his face, wrapping his arms around her through the bars, hating the cold steel in the way, loving the fact that his dog was here.
Here!
How did she get here?
Declan and Abby rounded the corner, a little out of breath as they caught up to Maggie Mae. Abby was pulling her keys off her belt and working them into the lock as Maggie continued to bathe his face with all of the love and happiness her heart contained. He couldn’t help it – he laughed, letting the joy that was welling up in him spill out.
“You let my dog in here,” he said around his laughter, wonder filling his voice, staring up at Abby. She finally got the cell door open and convinced Maggie that she could get to Wyatt a little easier if she went around to the open door, rather than continuing to try to force her way through the bars.
Although, as she launched herself at Wyatt, knocking him back onto the concrete floor, causing him to bust out laughing again, he suddenly realized that getting between the bars would be easier for her right now than it really should’ve been. Running his hands up and down her flanks, he could feel her ribs.
He looked up at Declan, who was grinning with happiness, but his eyes were dark with worry.
“Has she not been eating?” he asked around her tongue, which was busy cleaning up his face and then over to his ear.
“Not a damn thing. She’s just been wasting away, refusing to eat or drink, and refusing to move off the front porch. I know she seems like a bundle of energy right now, but I think she’s been saving that energy up for the last five weeks because she’s hardly moved all that time. I started to worry that she’d die of heartbreak.”
Wyatt felt that like a punch to his stomach. Maggie was totally blameless; had never done anything but love and sometimes obey and then love some more. She didn’t deserve to go through that.
“Thank you,” Wyatt said softly, looking back and forth between Abby and Declan. “This is the best Christmas present I ever could’ve asked for.”
Declan reached over and pulled some items out of a bag that Wyatt hadn’t even noticed he’d been carrying. He had been busy fending off Maggie, who was now on a self-appointed mission to clean his other ear, but still, he was usually more observant.
“I brought some food and water,” Declan said, putting bowls on the ground and pouring Kibble into one and bottled water into the other. “I was hoping that with her here with you, she’d be willing to eat and drink. If she won’t, I’ll have to take her to Vet Whitaker and see what he can do. She may need to go onto an IV drip.”
But at the sound of Kibble hitting the bottom of her food bowl, Maggie Mae launched herself off Wyatt and dove into her food bowl like she was starving.
Which, of course, she was.
As she alternated between eating and gulping down water, Wyatt pushed himself off the concrete floor. He didn’t know how to thank Abby – shake her hand? Give her a hug? She was his jailer. He couldn’t exactly send her a thank-you card.
But he had no doubt in his mind that Abby’s father would’ve absolutely said no to this idea. This was all her doing – there was no question on that.
In the end, he looked at her and said simply, “Thank you. It means a lot. I…thank you.”
And then stopped, because he didn’t have any other words to say. She just dipped her head in acknowledgment and headed back up front, pulling the cell door closed behind her as she left. “I’ll check on y’all in a minute,” she said quietly, disappearing and giving them privacy.
“Thanks for her, Declan,” Wyatt said, nodding towards his dog who’d finally started to slow down on her food consumption. He was a little worried about her getting a stomachache but the idea of taking her food away from her just didn’t sit well with him. He’d let her decide when she was full.
“Merry Christmas. To both of you.” Declan shrugged, downplaying what he did. “I know that being in here during Christmas won’t be easy, and I thought that Maggie Mae was the best present anyone could give you.”
That was Declan, all right. Always thinking of others.
Which, of course, made him think about what a difference there was between Declan and their youngest brother, Stetson. Stetson had his head so far up his own ass, Wyatt was surprised he could still walk straight. He sure seemed to have won the lottery when he convinced Jennifer to marry him. Wyatt gave them three years of her putting up with Stetson’s bullshit before she gave him his walking papers.
Pushing those thoughts away, he asked Declan, “So, what are you guys going to be doing for Christmas this year?” There was a golf-ball sized lump in his throat that he had to talk around. He didn’t used to be this emotional and he wasn’t exactly sure he appreciated the change. “Is Carmelita making her world-famous roast beef and potatoes?” And homemade cinnamon rolls? And gingerbread cookies?
Stetson lucked out with two women in his life – Jennifer to love him and Carmelita to cook for him. When Wyatt had bought his own place, he’d wanted to hire his own Carmelita, but had never managed to find someone as amazing as her.
Some days, Wyatt could find ten reasons to hate Stetson before breakfast, and thirty before noon.
“I don’t know what they’re planning,” Declan said with a shrug. “I’m going to be spending it here with you.”
“What?!” For the second time that afternoon, Wyatt felt like he’d been punched in the gut, but this was a positive punch, if such a thing existed. “You can’t miss Christmas at the farm!”
Even when Declan and Wyatt had moved out and bought their own places, they’d always, always gone back home for Christmas. Stetson may have inherited the family farm without doing a damn thing to deserve it, but that didn’t matter when it came to Christmas. The Miller Farm was home for all three of the brothers, and always would be, no matter who their father gave th
e farm to in his will.
Declan just shrugged. “Stetson and Jennifer have friends they can invite over if they want to. They’re lovebirds; they won’t even notice that I’m gone. You’re all alone here. It didn’t seem fair.”
“How’d Stetson take this news?” Wyatt asked suspiciously. Declan may be laissez faire about this idea, but he was pretty sure Stetson wasn’t.
Declan grinned wryly. “Let’s just say that I’m probably off the Christmas card list for a while.”
Wyatt grinned back for just a moment but quickly felt the smile die away. Here was yet someone else who was innocent, who was being hurt by his actions.
“So you’ll be coming back tomorrow?” Today was Christmas Eve Eve, if such a thing existed. Wyatt had only kept tabs on the day of the month so he could keep a countdown going of his hearing in Ada County, where hopefully, he’d be heard by a judge who gave a damn about justice.
Maggie flopped to the floor, finally satiated for the moment, and began to snore.
Wyatt was happier already, having her nearby. It was amazing to him how much he’d missed her snores, something he never would’ve guessed before being shoved in here against his will.
“Yeah, I’ll be back tomorrow. Let me talk to Abby for a minute, though.” Declan turned and shook the cell bars, trying to make enough noise to catch the attention of Wyatt’s beautiful jailer.
Now where did that come from? If there was any person in the world off-limits for Wyatt, it was Abby Connelly. She was his jailer, for starters. He’d bought her father’s land from them off the auction block, and the town and her father hated—
He stopped that train of thought right there. His counselor had been trying to get him to let go of the negativity he’d been holding on to for so long, and that included not dwelling on choices made by others.
I can’t control the thoughts or actions of others; I can only control myself.
Abby came heading back down the hallway, her hips swaying with a natural grace that caused Wyatt’s thoughts to go a little further south than he’d intended, but he forced his eyes to focus on hers. He wouldn’t let himself think about anything else.
He wouldn’t.
She slid the key into the lock with a bright smile. “Y’all done in here?” she asked, looking back and forth between them.
“Listen, I need to chat with you for a moment,” Declan said with a charming smile he normally reserved for Carmelita, as he tried to wheedle his way into another slice of her amazing peanut butter and chocolate pie. Wyatt wanted to tell him that Abby never brought pie back from Betty’s Diner but rather only boring turkey sandwiches. Maybe that’d get Declan to stop smiling so much at her. There was no reason to smile that much at the jailer.
Beautiful jailer.
Jailer.
End of story.
They pulled the jail cell door closed behind them and headed back down the hallway, towards the front. Wyatt dropped to his knees, running his fingers through Maggie’s fur. She instantly sat up, panting, her tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth as she grinned at him.
Wyatt smiled back, but he felt grief well up inside of him as he felt the changes in her even clearer now that the initial rush of surprise was over. Her fur was thinner and more coarse to the touch, and her ribs…he could count every one of them, and the knobs of her backbone, too. She’d never been husky, but this…she was nothing but fur and bones.
“Oh girl, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, mumbling into her fur, stroking her endlessly as he spoke. She laid her head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly, finally where she wanted to be. “I really screwed this one up. Yeah, maybe Dick deserved to get a busted up nose for driving drunk and then being dumbass enough to go buy yet more alcohol, especially because of how his sister died, but that doesn’t give me license to teach him using my fists. You’d be proud of me if you could hear me with the counselor. She’s really starting to help. You, though, you don’t deserve any of this. I’m so sorry…”
He heard his brother’s footsteps echoing, making his way back down the hallway towards him, and he hurriedly straightened up and flashed a forced grin at Declan as he came to stand right outside the cell door. He looked at Declan and then past him, down the cell block, wondering where Abby was. “Ready to head home?” he asked hesitantly. How was Declan supposed to take Maggie with him if Abby wasn’t there to unlock the door?
“Yeah. I’ll be back tomorrow around noon. I’ll see if I can get Betty’s Diner to make us some turkey and potatoes and I’ll bring that with me when I come. A regular Christmas feast.”
Wyatt couldn’t stand it anymore. “Where’s Abby? She has to unlock the door if you’re going to take Maggie home.”
“You’re going to keep her,” Abby said, her voice ringing out with warmth and joy at being able to give him the news. She came around the corner and flashed him a blinding grin. “At least until after Christmas. Maggie needs to gain weight, and she won’t if separated from you. Plus, it’s Christmas. I can’t take your dog from you at Christmas.”
Wyatt’s throat closed up so much with unshed tears, he was quite afraid he was going to unman himself. He could not, absolutely could not, cry in front of Abby. It would be bad enough to let a few leak out in front of his brother, but not in front of Abby.
Unable to speak, he finally just gave a jerky nod of acknowledgment, looking at her with all the gratitude in his soul. She gazed back, a small smile on her lips, and he dropped his eyes, unable to hold hers any longer. Unwilling to acknowledge the heat sizzling through his veins at the sight of her.
Not
Appropriate
“Well, I’m gonna head home,” Declan said into the silence. “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow. And you too, Maggie,” he said with a smile at her, who thumped her tail upon hearing her name.
Abby escorted Declan out to the front, and Wyatt sat back down on the cold concrete floor, Maggie settling herself down onto his lap like some grotesquely oversized teacup poodle. Maggie always liked to pretend that she was a lap dog, something she was definitely too large to be. Comfortably anyway.
Didn’t stop her from pretending.
Wyatt couldn’t stop running his fingers through her fur, noticing all of the subtle changes, wondering why Abby had been so nice to agree to this. It certainly hadn’t been because of his winning personality. If his mother had been able to see how he’d treated Abby these last few weeks, she would’ve rolled over in her grave. She raised him to be better than this.
Wyatt gently pushed Maggie off his lap so he could move, and crawled up onto his bunk, scooting over to the side so Maggie could curl up next to him. As she settled back into sleep interspersed with snores, he stacked his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling.
He had a lot of thinking to do.
Chapter 10
Abby
Christmas Eve. Abby stared at the pile of paperwork she needed to fill out and let out a huge groan. The very last thing she wanted to do was fill out paperwork on Christmas Eve of all days.
“Abby, get in here!” she heard her father thunder.
Okay, make that the second-to-last thing she wanted to do on Christmas Eve. The very last thing she wanted to do was get her ass chewed by her father.
She worked her way over to his office and stood in the doorway. “Yes, Father?” she asked, her tone dripping with artificial sweetness. He glared at her. Obviously, her sense of humor was not going to be appreciated today, no matter what day of the year it was.
“Why on God’s green earth is there a dog in my jail? I can smell the mangy mutt from here!”
She stepped inside his office and closed the door behind her. She wasn’t about to get into a shouting match with him where any ol’ stranger walking by could hear them. Much better to get into a shouting match where they at least had a little privacy.
“Dad, you told me that you wanted me to take care of Wyatt Miller without any input from you. ‘You have my full authority to act as you see
fit, as long as you leave me out of it,’ I believe were your exact words.”
“I never expected you to—”
“And his dog was dying. You may not have much use for the man, but surely you don’t think his dog oughta die. She was starving to death – refused to eat or drink, just spent her days watching for Wyatt to return. She wouldn’t have made it another two weeks for him to come home, not at the rate she was losing weight.”
She didn’t tell her dad, but she’d arranged for Vet Whitaker to stop by the jail late last night and check on her. Paid for the vet visit herself. He’d said that she didn’t have much left to her and another week or so and she would’ve died from starvation. He’d put her on some vitamins to help her regain her bone density and put some shine back into her coat. He’d told Abby that she’d saved Maggie’s life.
No, she wasn’t about to back down, no matter what Sheriff Connelly thought.
“Well, just make sure she doesn’t infest the place with fleas,” her dad harrumphed. “Then I’d have to add the cost of an exterminator to Wyatt Miller’s bill.”
Abby tried not to roll her eyes, physically anyway. That was her dad’s way of conceding defeat without admitting he was wrong. At least he was going to stop shouting, which she considered to be a win in her book.
“When will Rios be here?” her dad asked, in an obvious bid to change the subject. “You going to be able to come home tonight to light the candle?” It was one of the few traditions that they still continued to practice every year – lighting a candle for her mom on Christmas Eve. She had to make it back to her dad’s place for that tonight. Officer Rios better be on time for tonight’s shift; she couldn’t stomach the thought otherwise.
“Hopefully. That storm hitting us doesn’t look like it’s going to end any time soon, and I don’t know how much it’ll dump on us today. I’ll do my best.”
