His uncertainty returned, though he tried to cover it with a cocky smile. “Thanks, Sis. If she needs a reference to go out with me, I’ll give her your number.” He hugged her tight and kissed her cheek.
He limped up the sidewalk to the parking lot but stopped midway. “I gave them your number in case they release the dog and can’t reach me.”
“Oh, you did?”
“Yeah. Just in case I should need backup.”
It was part of being a family to help each other out, and he’d unhesitatingly run to her rescue when Hillary held her hostage. “Call me if you need me, and even if you don’t.”
He grinned again. “Thanks. It’s been a while for us both, having a dog around.”
Their mother still had one, but the loss of Rusty still hurt. “It might do us both good, as long as neither of us gets too attached.” Why had she said that?
“I won’t. I’m not home enough to have a pet. And it’s too hard to find someone to take care of one when you’re gone for six months or more at a time.”
“You’ll get to enjoy the responsibility until her owner can take care of her. The two of you can heal together.”
He looked away. “Yeah. Maybe so.”
Why did she get the idea he was talking about more than their hip injuries? Now she was more worried about him than she was about herself.
Chapter 5
‡
Callahan Crowes stared at his brother. Shock reverberated through him like he’d been zapped with a cattle prod. “You’re shitting me, aren’t you?” His comfortable living room suddenly seemed claustrophobic, and the pleasant weekend he’d hoped for was fast taking a spiraling trip down the toilet.
“It’s not like you’ve been there working in the past five years, Cal.”
“I was a little busy fighting a war, Doug.” He tried to keep the anger out of his voice, though it was rushing through him like a tornado through a cornfield. “Then when I fought my way back home, Dad wouldn’t let me on his crew.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that tune before. Nobody asked you to enlist.”
Wow, Doug didn’t fall far from the same bitter tree. When was Doug going to be his own man instead of mirroring their father in every aspect of his life? If Dad told him to shit green tomatoes, he’d try it.
Cal attempted to choke back the bitterness. “Besides being the right thing to do, the business was close to bankruptcy when I enlisted. I had dreams of being an engineer. I thought they might go for helping me complete the training but—you get what you get. I still took as much of the burden off of Mom and Dad as I could. Or didn’t they tell you I floated one of the loans he had on the business the whole time I was enlisted, and paid it off for them? I have the receipts to prove it. How much of your money have you sunk into it?”
Doug’s cheeks flushed red. His coloring, more like their father’s, tended to reflect his emotions in that telltale sweep. With his darker hair and eyes, he was a mirror of Jameson Crowes in looks. Cal had gotten his blond-streaked light brown hair and blue-green eyes from his mother.
“No, they didn’t tell me.” His grudging tone granted little concession.
“No, I don’t guess Dad would.”
“I’m there working building the business alongside him.”
“Just as you would be if you worked for someone else. And you’re drawing a pretty good salary for doing it, too. Better than you would if you worked for anyone else. You’re not sweating any more for him than you would for anyone else, either. You may be the favored son, but I’m still his son, too. Even if he doesn’t see it that way anymore.”
Doug’s expression revealed a shadow of remorse. “He still sees you as his son, Cal.”
Cal narrowed his eyes and once again swept Doug with a searching look. “Then what the fuck are we talking about here?”
“Dad’s been having some issues lately.”
“Like what?”
“They’re not sure yet. His blood pressure’s been up, and he’s been having what they thought were digestive issues at first. Now they’ve decided it’s his heart.”
Heat swept into Cal’s face. “So you thought, just in case he dropped dead, you’d come here and see if you could convince me to sign over any inheritance I might get? Jesus Christ, Doug!” He didn’t even attempt to color the disgust in his tone.
“You can’t blame me for wanting to cement my position with the company.”
“By trying to jerk the rug out from under me like Dad did? Jesus Christ!” Nausea rose like he’d been kicked in the nuts. His father was sick, and his brother was circling like some kind of money-grubbing vulture. He wanted to grab him by the scruff of the neck and throw him out of the apartment.
Cal jerked the cell phone from his pocket and dialed his mother’s number. As soon as she answered he said. “Tell me about Dad.”
His mom, always practical, did just that. “He’s worked eighty-hour weeks for the last five years, and it’s caught up with him. They have his blood pressure under control now, but he’s on a restricted diet, and he’s had to cut back on his work hours.”
Cal glanced at Doug and read the guilt in his expression. This wasn’t kindergarten, and he wouldn’t burden his mother with his younger brother’s bullshit. No matter how pissed he was at him.
“What else do they plan to do?”
“More tests. Then the doctor will know what he needs done. Medication or surgery. As long as he does what they tell him…and I’ll see that he does…he’ll be fine.”
“From the way Doug talked, I thought he was at death’s door.” He shot his brother another look.
“He needs to be careful until we find out how bad things are. He wouldn’t take care of himself, wouldn’t eat healthily. This scare has been a wake-up call.
“Well, as long as something good comes out of it… If you need me, let me know.”
“He needs you, too, Cal. I know how unfair he’s been to you. He knows he was, too. He loves you. And is proud of you. He read every article they wrote about how you rescued that woman on the top of the building.”
He had a damn funny way of showing it. “That woman’s name is Kathleen, Mom, and she and I are dating exclusively. It’s serious.”
“I’m thrilled you’ve found someone special.”
“Me too, and she is. Keep me posted on his progress, Mom.”
He heard her sigh on the other end of the phone. “Sometimes it takes a bigger man to bend and make the first move.”
This was not the time to step into the breach between him and his father. “Call me if you need me. He can, too.”
They both knew a man like Jameson Crowes would never make the first move. He and Cal hadn’t spoken in nearly two years. His father saw him as a cripple because of his prosthetic leg, and refused to allow him anywhere near any of his building sites. Cal had been given no choice but to leave and make a life for himself.
Poetic justice would have been for him to get a job on a rival firm’s crew there in San Antonio. He’d made it possible for his Dad to keep his business, and the man repaid him by pushing him out. He’d been too hurt and bitter to be anywhere near his family. Instead he returned to the area he called home during his recovery from the IED which destroyed his leg, put him in the hospital for nearly three months, and required therapy of one kind or the other for another year.
He refused to allow his father’s judgment to hold him back from making a living in his field, a field he’d worked in every day since returning to San Diego.
He closed out the call and turned to face Doug. Cal hadn’t come close to dealing with his anger, and he’d never felt less like being in the same room with his brother. The emotional punches just kept coming every time he let his father and brother get close enough.
Luckily he had steaks to cook. He went out onto the front porch and lit the grill.
Doug wandered out onto the porch a beer in each hand. Cal took the bottle and set it on the railing. He went back into the apartment and retri
eved the two steaks he’d marinated and the ears of corn he’d shucked and wrapped in aluminum foil.
Why had he gone to all this trouble? Feeding people was a symbol of fellowship and caring. That wasn’t what he was feeling right now. For the first time in months, he fought the urge to rub the top of his head. Which made him even angrier.
Using tongs, he flipped the steaks on the grill, tossed the corn on with them, and shut the lid.
“I’m sorry,” Doug said.
No he wasn’t. There had always been a brotherly competition between them. But since Cal had come back from Afghanistan without a leg, it had changed to something darker. Doug had wanted to be the only son, and now he was, he still wasn’t satisfied.
“I’m a prick.”
There was no arguing with that.
“You don’t know what he’s been like since you walked away and never looked back.”
Cal glanced up. “That’s the way he wanted it.”
“No, he didn’t. Now I know the whole story… He’s eaten up with guilt because you lost a leg so he could keep the company.”
“I didn’t lose a leg for him. I lost it fighting a bunch of religious fanatics on a power trip, bent on killing anyone who didn’t want to be oppressed by them. Killing anyone they could to intimidate people into accepting their beliefs. I lost it because some asshole wanted to kill me because I was defending people who couldn’t defend themselves. It didn’t have a damn thing to do with Dad or the business. Not everything is about you guys.”
Doug laughed.
After a moment’s pause, the sound actually brought a wry twist to Cal’s lips. He raised the lid on the grill, flipped the steaks again, and used tongs to roll the corn.
Doug rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“I can’t un-hear something. And all I’m hearing is, ‘you’re no longer part of the family, so fuck you, Cal.’ Isn’t that what you meant? The double fuck you and Dad dealt me when he refused to let me work for him. I can’t be a part of the business, so I’m no longer part of the family.”
Cal stood facing away from Doug for a moment, then turned back. “Well, how about, fuck you, Doug! How about you use a tiny bit of that selfish, asshole brain of yours and think how you would feel if Dad kicked you off the crew and said you couldn’t work there anymore. That you’re fucking useless, a cripple, a liability. Try to un-hear that.”
Cal threw the tongs onto the built-in shelf on the side of the grill and stormed into the house. Fuck it. He was out of here.
He grabbed his keys and wallet from the table next to the door. “I won’t be back tonight. Lock up when you leave in the morning.”
“Is this how you solve your problems? By walking away?” Doug yelled.
Doug was a goddamn fool. Cal jerked open the door to his truck. “I’m walking away so I don’t pound your face into mud. Don’t. Poke. The. Bear.”
Chapter 6
‡
Piper updated the Chocolate Lab’s chart, left it on the counter for Tiffany, the evening receptionist, to deal with, and retreated to her office for a breather. Her shoulders were stiff and her back ached from being on her feet for the past eight hours.
And why had she volunteered to stay late? Oh, yeah, because she felt guilty for taking up the first half of the afternoon with an emergency surgery. The other three vets would have amputated the leg, but she just couldn’t do it. The animal was too healthy, and she knew MWDs thrived on being active. Besides, the Malinois had served her country in Iraq and Afghanistan. She deserved a shot at keeping the leg.
Once inside her office she kneaded the small of her back, then leaned down to touch her toes. When she got home she’d do some yoga exercises to relieve the pain. And sleep like a log.
Tony appeared at the door just as she was sliding behind her desk. “The SEAL who brought in the war dog this morning is out front. He wants to check on Gracie.”
“What makes you think he’s a SEAL, Tony?”
“Those guys have a different air about them. With special permission, they’re allowed to let their hair grow longer. Keeps them from looking so military when they go to foreign countries.”
Zach was a SEAL. It explained a lot. She knew a little about them—not much, just what she’d heard on television. Did she really want to be attracted to someone who did such a dangerous job and carried a gun? And disappeared for months at a time? No! The whole scenario seemed way too familiar.
Even as she followed Tony to reception, her heart was racing and her cheeks felt hot. At the open bathroom door, she paused to yank off the scrunchie she used to keep her hair out of the way, finger-combed out the tangles, and put the scrunchie on again. But she couldn’t do anything about the thumbprint-like shadows under her eyes.
She was tired, and it showed, so she pasted on a smile. Maybe then he wouldn’t notice her exhaustion.
Zach was lounging against the front counter, and straightened as soon as he saw her. His green gaze tracked her progress around the large reception counter.
She felt a little out of breath when she said, “Hello, Ensign O’Connor. Why don’t you come back, and I’ll discuss Gracie’s progress with you?”
He bent to grab the handles of a bag at his feet and followed her. Noticing his limp was worse, she slowed her pace to accommodate him. “She’s doing very well,” she said over her shoulder. “She’s already thrown off some of the aftereffects of the anesthesia.” Piper crouched at one of the cages and released the levers, securing the cage door in an open position before stepping back.
Zach set the bag just outside the kennel room door and moved to the open cage.
Gracie raised her head and wagged her tail as, with some difficulty, he knelt on the floor next to her.
Piper saw the dog’s eyes still looked a little glazed. “I’ve given her some pain medication. I felt she needed it.”
Zach nodded. “I feel guilty as hell that I hit her.”
“An accident is an accident. And you did everything at the scene you could do to save her life. She might have died before you got her here otherwise.”
He offered Gracie his hand to sniff before reaching in and rubbing her behind the ears. He cupped the dog’s bottom jaw in one hand and ran the other over her head and neck.
Piper observed her behavior with him. Despite the cushioned wrappings around Gracie’s leg and body, she looked pretty good considering what she’d been through. Her tail thumped the padding, slow and steady, like a drummer keeping time, and she angled her head, directing Zach’s touch where she wanted it.
Piper smiled at the behavior.
“Yeah, we’re a pair aren’t we? Both hobbling a bit, but we’ll get through it, won’t we, sweetheart?” He petted her for a few minutes, talking to her all the while. When he attempted to rise, he braced a hand on the floor and shoved up with his good leg. Piper gripped his other arm above the elbow to help him as much as she could.
“Thanks.” He covered her hand and held it against his arm.
He had large hands. Strong hands. Totally different from David’s. By focusing on the differences, she was obliterating that momentary stumble she experienced the first moment they met. She turned aside, afraid of what he might read in her face. “Have you heard anything from the police about her owner?” She closed the cage door.
“I called one of the cops I met with this morning. Master Chief Flynn isn’t out of the woods yet. He’s got a fractured skull, a broken arm, several broken ribs, and a bruised kidney. More than one person attacked him, and one had a baseball bat.”
“It was a miracle he even survived.” Piper shook her head. “Do they have any clue why?”
“No. Nothing was stolen from the house. He must have seen something suspicious and gone out to investigate. Luckily the neighbor heard the commotion and called the cops. He might not have made it otherwise.”
“That’s horrible.” What kind of person could do such a thing? It might be a long time bef
ore Gracie could go home. “Come to the office and we’ll talk about Gracie’s progress.”
She paused outside the kennel room to look down at the bag.
“That’s your dinner,” he said. “I promised my sister I’d buy dinner tonight if she gave me a haircut, so I got an extra meal for you. You’ll have to reheat it in the microwave. There’s a salad and bread in there, too. Dressing on the side. Kathleen rescued the salad and refrigerated it so it wouldn’t wilt.”
Touched by his thoughtfulness, she smiled. “Thank you. I don’t know what to say.” Was he leading up to something?
“It’s just a small thank-you for jumping into the emergency. I didn’t expect her to survive at first. Then I didn’t expect her to keep the leg.”
“We’ll have to be a little cautious about that for a few days and see how she does. She’s had a little water today, but I’m waiting until tomorrow morning to offer her food.”
He followed her down to a small office, where she placed the bag on the desk and gestured for him to come in and sit down. She studied the familiar logo on the bag. He had no idea he’d brought her food from her family’s restaurant. She wondered how long it had been since she swung by there.
She settled behind the desk and turned her attention back to Zach.
“Animals don’t process pain like we do, so I’m monitoring her carefully. She’ll be in for a longer recovery than a simple broken leg would require, and she’ll need some physical therapy once she’s on her feet.”
“Like water therapy?” He asked.
“Yes. And passive-range massage to keep the circulation going and the range of motion normal.”
“I can do the massage. I’ve done some training. For humans. Just a couple of classes, but if someone will show me the right techniques, I can do them.”
“It’s a good idea, but let’s wait and see for now.” She leaned forward on her elbows on the desk. “How are you doing? Your limp is worse.”
Breaking Out (Military Romantic Suspense) (SEAL Team Heartbreakers Book 6) Page 6
