Montana Homecoming

by Jillian Hart

  Amazingly the dog’s lunge fizzled. All four paws returned to the sidewalk. Oscar whined, struggling between the tantalizing aroma of charcoal burgers and pleasing the woman he obviously adored. Finally Oscar’s doggy behind attempted to touch the ground, his decision made. He stared up adoringly at Brooke.

  Couldn’t blame the dog there. “Wow, I can’t believe it. He’s almost under control.”

  “All the way down, Oscar. C’mon.” She pulled a treat out of her pocket. When the dog lunged for it, she whipped it away. “No. Sit. Sit and stay.”

  The Lab’s ears sank. His head drooped. A whine squeaked out of his throat. The dog, obviously disappointed in himself, slunk into a sit, devastated at not being able to please.

  “There. That’s right. Good, good boy. I knew you could do it.” She hunkered down beside the dog to hand over his treat. She rubbed his ears, kissed his nose and loved him up real good. Could he look away? Not a chance. Her gentleness hooked him like a fish on a line, reeling him in.

  Don’t fall for her, Liam. Be smart. Hold back. Remember the devastation a woman can do to a man’s heart.

  “Doggy!” A little girl toddled into sight next door, dripping water off her skirted swimming suit. She’d obviously been playing in a kiddy pool somewhere in the backyard. Her pigtails bobbed as she waddled across the lawn.

  “It’s Oscar!” A preschool boy dashed to catch up to her, water streaming down his face. He scrubbed it away with both hands as he ran closer.

  “Hey, you two.” At the sight of the neighbor kids, he got a good hold on Oscar’s collar. “Looks like you’ve been playing in your pool again.”

  “Yep!” Nicholas skidded to a stop in front of Oscar. “My dad’s makin’ burgers.”

  “So I can smell.” His hand bumped against Brooke’s. They held the nylon strap together, fingers touching. Tenderness lodged somewhere behind his ribs with enough force that it was hard to ignore. The kids toddled closer. Oscar went wild, leaping and whining, so excited to see them again.

  He really was a very good dog. Hard not to love the guy. Warmth seeped into his heart. And not only for the Lab. Brooke held him breathless as she greeted the little kids. Every shield seemed to tumble down, leaving her exposed. Sweet heart, kind spirit, gentle soul.

  Impossible not to fall for that.

  “He kissed me—he likes me!” The little boy beamed.

  “Pretty doggy.” Rosie held out one chubby hand and laughed when Oscar licked it. She scrunched her face up as the dog landed a kiss on her chin. She giggled happily.

  “Hi, Liam,” a woman’s voice called behind the screen door. “How’s the training going?”

  “Hi, Marin. I think we’re making progress.”

  “I suppose that’s subjective.” Marin laughed, squinting through the screen. “Is that Colbie with you?”

  “No, it’s Brooke.”

  “That’s right. The missing sister. Hi, Brooke, good to meet you. Nicholas, bring your sister. The hamburgers are done. Supper time.”

  “Okay, gotta go, Oscar.” Nicholas patted the dog’s head one last time and seized his sister’s hand. “C’mon, Rosie.”

  “No!” The little girl dug in her heels, eyes locked with Oscar’s, but her brother tugged her along. She watched over her shoulder with big brown loving eyes.

  Oscar whined, he cried, he lunged and finally hung his head when the kids disappeared behind the screen door.

  “Poor guy. Do you know the trouble with you?” Brooke stroked his ears. “You are all heart.”

  Yes, Liam thought, that was exactly the part he was losing. His heart. Nothing could slow it down. Nothing held it back. He released his grip on Oscar’s collar and straightened, gazing down at the woman, the real Brooke. She was all heart, too.

  You’re going to get hurt, buddy. That’s what love does to a man.

  But did his emotions listen to reason? Not a chance.

  Chapter Twelve

  Oscar trotted neatly behind her the short length of sidewalk heading toward his yard, panting. The Lab watched her intently, trying so hard to please. When a squirrel darted down a tree and streaked across the lawn, he lost all self-control. He yipped and lunged.

  Good thing she’d shortened the leash and planted her feet.

  “Sorry, but no. You can’t even chase a squirrel when you’re on a leash,” she told him.

  The dog huffed out a breath of air, seeming to understand her perfectly. Hard to resist the sweetie and his big brown eyes, but she neatly avoided meeting Liam’s as her unsteady legs carried her down the walkway. The bungalow towered above them, bathed in dappled shade.

  “Do you think he’ll be ready to go jogging tomorrow?” Liam quipped as he pulled his house keys out of his jeans pocket.

  “Sure, if you don’t mind tripping over him.” She felt as bright as the glancing rays of the sun slanting through the trees and as free as the wind rustling through the leaves. It had been a long time since she’d felt this happy. Weightless, as if she were floating. She followed Oscar and Liam into the cozy bungalow. “Although in the early morning there might be less distractions for him, so there could be less tripping.”

  “I’m ready to take the chance.” He shut the door, dropped his keys on a little table and speared her with his luxurious blue gaze. Humor enriched the color, showing the man. “What’s a few trips and tumbles? A couple of scraped knees? I’m tough. I can take it. As long as you come with us.”

  “Me? Run?” No. Absolutely not. All she could see was huffing and puffing behind him, dying of exertion. “It’s been years since I’ve run. Nearly a decade.”

  “What’s so hard about it? If you can walk, you can run.” He unhooked Oscar’s leash. “You want Brooke to come, right, buddy?”

  “Ruff!” Oscar’s bark echoed off the walls as he loped away, toe nails tapping on the hardwood.

  “Like I can disappoint him now?” She shook her head. She used to love running. Being out on the open road with the peaceful Montana countryside rolling slowly by. Feeling strong in the zone, music humming through her headphones. The remembered freedom pulled at her now. “Fine, you’ve maneuvered me into it. I used to love to run.”

  “High school track?”

  “Cross-country.” She didn’t mention the championships, the state record or the partial athletic scholarship she’d turned down because it hadn’t been enough for her to afford college. But to run again? It’s something she hadn’t wanted to do in the city’s dicier neighborhoods, dodging traffic and gangs. The more she thought about it, the more the idea grew on her. If she wasn’t embarrassed by how out of shape she was.

  “I ran cross-country, too. It kept me out of trouble.” He led the way through the living and dining room to the kitchen. “I had some speed, which came in handy dodging bullets in Iraq.”

  “Or keeping up with Oscar racing down the sidewalk.”

  “True. A skill that’s good, foreign or domestic.”

  The dog didn’t bother to look up as they joined him in the kitchen. He lapped water from his water dish fast and hard. Her phone chimed a merry tune, surprising her. Her family knew she was with Oscar, so who could it be?

  “Go ahead and get that.” Liam yanked open the fridge door. “I’ve got root beer or grape soda.”

  “Grape, please.” She squinted at her screen, not recognizing the name. The number looked local so she answered it. “Hello?”

  “Is this Brooke?” a woman’s voice asked. “The Dillards gave me your number. My name is Kerry Linton. I hear you train dogs.”

  “I attempt to.” Looking at Oscar, she wasn’t exactly sure how well she’d succeeded. “I’m not a professional or anything.”

  “I inherited my grandmother’s beagle when she passed away and I can’t get him to stop tinkling in the house. Do you think you can help?”

  “I can give it a try.” She couldn’t believe she had another temporary job. Across the kitchen, Liam gave her a thumbs-up. She had a sneaking suspicion why the Dillards had
recommended her. While he popped two can tops and opened the back door for the dog, she set a time during the weekend to meet Mrs. Linton.

  “Word is getting around.” Liam propped the screen door open. “Pretty soon you’ll be so popular you won’t be able to fit Oscar into your schedule.”

  “Oscar will always have the best spot in my schedule. At least for as long as I’m in town.” She accepted the can he held out to her, nice and cold. She concentrated on the can and not the man in front of her.

  Fine, so she could admit it. She didn’t have the strength of will to look away from him. Who could? He was the kind of man determined to do what was right, who was kind to everyone, who’d given a dog on death row a new life. It wasn’t a surprise tender emotions were creeping into her heart.

  It was impossible for them to become anything more.

  “You did this, didn’t you?” She tried to speak past those tender emotions she couldn’t get rid of. She took a little sip of soda, casual and determined to stay that way.

  “I didn’t do anything. Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dimples framed his dashing smile as he lifted his can.

  “You told the Dillards.” She glanced over her shoulder to see Oscar chasing a fluffy gray cat across his yard. “You didn’t ask them to recommend me, did you?”

  “Nope. I just said I’d hired you to train him, that’s all.” He followed her gaze. The feline leaped onto the top of the wooden fence and flicked his tail, glaring down at the dog with a superior look. “That cat has been teasing Oscar all week.”

  “And poor Oscar just wants to be friends.”

  “Exactly.” For a moment their gazes met and the impact rolled through her like nothing she’d known before, rattling her heart, moving through her spirit and leaving her dazed.

  Don’t fall for him, she told herself. Don’t you do it. She tried to summon up all the reasons why not, but her mind went blank.

  That could not be a good sign. “Hey, can I ask you a favor?” He leaned in, so close she could smell the soap on his skin and the fabric softener on his clothes.

  “Sorry, all out of favors.” The emotion within her flared, taking on a life of its own. Maybe she should escape while she still could.

  “I need you to read my article for the Sunday edition.” He forged ahead, shoes squeaking on the tile, drawing her along in his wake. “I want to know what you have to say. Your opinion matters to me.”

  “This is about the trial?” She swallowed hard, torn by the sight of the front door as they rounded the dining room table. Her pulse cannoned through her with enough force to rattle her ribs. She thought of her prison record. She thought of the chances Liam might see her and not the crime, like most people in her past had.

  “Will you read it?” Sparkles glinted in Liam’s true-blue eyes. Not the dashing flash of a man used to charming his way through the world, but the genuine glint of integrity that was hard to resist.

  No. That was her decision. But what came across her lips? “Yes.”

  What hold did this man have on her? She followed him into his home office, set up in the spare bedroom. A few framed snapshots hung on walls and marched along the far corner of the desk. Pictures of combat troops, Afghan farmers, bone-thin children huddled in front of a Red Cross tent.

  Liam, the reporter, wasn’t a sensationalist feeding on other people’s tragedies but a witness reporting them. Trying to bring light to human suffering. Her hands shook, wondering what was on the laptop screen he turned and nudged her way.

  “Go ahead and sit.” The chair wheeled closer. She felt his hands curl around her shoulders from behind, nudging her into the cushioned seat.

  The words on the screen pulled her in, transporting her to Monday’s courtroom under the glare of the fluorescent lights and the echoing rustles in the high-ceilinged room. The stoic jurors. The sorrow lingering in the air from the families who’d buried loved ones. A daughter, a brother, a father. All gone.

  As she read, his words evoked the bang of the judge’s gavel. The rumbling timbre of the district attorney’s opening arguments. The muffled sobbing of Juanita’s parents unable to hold back grief. The gruesome crime scene photos, bloody and heartrending and, later, the hostess’s trembling narrative of watching her coworker fall to the ground, shot, limp as a rag doll.

  Brooke set the soda can on the desk, forgetting to breathe. She leaned forward and scrolled down the document. Unable to take her eyes from the article, she kept reading, feeling his closeness and his unspoken question. When she reached the end of what he’d written, she cleared her voice.

  “It’s good.” Her words still came out scratchy. “This is about the families. What they went through. What they lost.”

  “The rest of the article is all about the first person to fall. The busboy who tried to stop them.” Liam knelt down beside her, larger than life. “I wanted to honor his courage and his life. I’m waiting until after Bree’s testimony to write about Juanita. She has some memories I’d like to include, when she’s ready.”

  The glowing softness gathering behind her sternum took on power. Emotions overwhelmed her. This wasn’t tenderness and it wasn’t affection, she stubbornly told herself. “You’re not writing about the day-to-day progress of the trial?”

  “That’s Roger’s job. I’m writing about the lives that are forever changed. That’s what violence and injustice do.” He covered her hand with his. As if their spirits touched, she felt the snap of connection in her soul. “That’s what I write about. That’s who I am.”

  “So I see.” His words curled around her heart, warm with understanding. Eternity passed in a single moment. The world stopped spinning, time stood still and her fears vanished. For one perfect second the past evaporated and her feelings shone true.

  I do adore him, she realized. With every breath, every beat of her heart and the infinite breadth of her soul.

  * * *

  “So, was that a yes on running tomorrow?” He opened his front door for her and watched the restless Montana breeze scatter silken tendrils across her forehead. Not easy to keep the caring he felt under control and hidden. When he wanted to reach out and brush fine strands of hair out of her eyes, he held back.

  “How early?” She swiped the flyaway strands herself with a cute little sweep of her slender fingers. “I’m a morning person, but it’s got to be within reason.”

  “How’s six?”

  “Doable. Did I thank you for recommending me to the Dillards?” She swirled out the door, pure grace and beauty. Why couldn’t he stop noticing?

  “You’re welcome. I was just being honest.” He glanced over his shoulder to check on Oscar, sound asleep on his dog bed, and left the door open. He followed her into the pleasant evening where mellow golden light played in the broad leaves of the maple trees. Birds twittered and the calls of children playing down the street added to the ambiance as he trailed down the steps after her. “You’ve helped more than you know.”

  “I guess we’ll see come morning. Oscar has a short attention span.” She slowed her pace, waiting for him to catch up with her. “I think he’ll be a great running buddy given a little time.”

  “He’s already a great buddy.” He fell into stride beside her and nothing had ever felt so right. Peace filled him, as resplendent as the evening. He prayed God was walking with him because love was a minefield. At least he knew Brooke was nothing like Sidney. “I wouldn’t have taken Oscar back to the pound. Even if he and I had had a much more difficult transition time. You know that, right?”

  “I do. That was my main reason for taking this job. My worry for him. After seeing how he’d strewn things around your house.” She shook her head, laughed softly. Amazing.

  His entire soul resonated. “And now?”

  “I’m sort of fond of Oscar.” Veiled, she spun away to dig keys out of her pocket. She made a lovely picture with gossamer strands framing her face, willowy and dainty. So lovely it made his eyes ache.

  He couldn’
t read her. He just couldn’t tell if she was in the same boat—with her feelings running away from her and not knowing what to do about it. How did you ignore the panicky feeling hitting like a tornado? Keep the faith and keep on going?

  “I’m sweet on Oscar, too.” He wasn’t talking about the dog and he wasn’t just fond of Brooke. He took her keys from her and unlocked the truck door.

  “Why do I feel watched?” She glanced around, squinting in the hazy light. “Oh, I know. Your neighbor is peering at us from her kitchen window.”

  “Marin’s nosy.” He opened the little pickup’s door and leaned against it, watching Brooke over the door frame. He could not get enough of looking at her, just drawing her in. “She’s an associate pastor at the church.”

  “That’s why she knew Colbie. Colbie’s so popular, she knows everyone. She gets around.” She hesitated, gazing at him through the window she’d left open.

  “Marin runs a lot of the senior programs. Gram adores her.” He lifted a hand in a single wave, just to let Marin know he knew what she was up to. He could see a phone held to her ear. Apparently she had no shame because she waved cheerfully back.

  “I have a terrible feeling she’s talking with my grandmother. Gram assists with the seniors’ Sunday school class every week.” He shook his head, imagining the worse. “If she knew I was spending so much time with you, I’d never hear the end of it.”

  “Hey, join the club. You think this has been easy for me?” Amusement brought out the violet glints in her irises. Did she know what she did to him? “I’ve been taking heat all week from Lil and Colbie. Even Luke mentioned it. Don’t expect any sympathy from me.”

  The quirk of a smile in the corners of her mouth said otherwise.

  “It just proves you don’t know my grandmother.” His spirit brightened as he leaned in closer until it felt as if nothing separated them. “Since Grandpa Jim died, she has had a lot of time on her hands. Sure, she gardens more. Spends more time participating at church. But it’s not enough. She still has plenty left over to devote to me.”