Scent of an Angel (Angel Paws Rescue Book 1)

by Mimi Milan

  He turned to his mother and smiled.

  “Could we please just go? I’m really tired.”

  His mother looked past him. Tanner followed her gaze to see Eva still standing beside the car.

  “You gonna’ say goodbye to your friend?”

  Tanner sighed. “She’s not a friend. She’s sort of my therapist.”

  “Well, then, all the more reason to be a gentleman.” His mother pushed a button and Tanner’s window rolled down.

  “Ma! What are you doing?”

  Ms. McKoy ignored him.

  “Hey, there!” She called past him, waving Eva closer to the car. “My son tells me you’re his new therapist.”

  Eva stepped forward, bearing another toothy grin.

  “More like a therapist-in-training,” she explained. “I’m a grad student at Eastern U. I’m trying to finish up my clinical studies this semester so I can get my license.”

  “Really? Well, that just sounds lovely!” Ms. McKoy looked at his son, a challenging brow raised. Her voice dropped to a soft murmur. “Doesn’t she just sound lovely?”

  The low inflection in his mother’s voice indicated she was up to no good. What was that woman thinking?

  “You know, there is nothing finer than seeing a studious, young woman working hard to secure her future. In fact, it would be a privilege to help you achieve that license.”

  Eva looked confused.

  “Well, thank you. That would be nice. I’m not so sure there’s much you could do to help me, though.”

  “Oh, no. Not me, sugar.” Ms McKoy pointed to her son. “Him!”

  “Ma, what are you talking about?”

  “What am I talking about? What am I—Darling, I am talking about you getting up out of that room for once. I am talking about you not moping around my house anymore.” Ms. McKoy returned her attention back to Eva. “Young lady, I think you are the very breath of fresh air that we’ve been searching for. In fact, I know it! Why, it couldn’t have worked out better even if I had planned it myself.”

  Eva looked between Tanner and his mother, still looking confused.

  “I’m not sure I completely understand what it is you want.”

  “To hire you as a therapist, of course!”

  “Ma!”

  “Oh, hush now. I’m tired of you moping around my house all the time. This will be good for you!”

  He gave his “new therapist” a once over. The look she had was exactly the way he felt – eager, yet hesitant. Part of him was excited about the idea of seeing her again – and from the comfort and privacy of his own home no less. At the same time, the arrangement could be disastrous.

  “I’d love to help out in any way I can,” she finally spoke. “However, the truth is that I’m not legally allowed to work as a paid therapist until I’m actually licensed. Sorry.”

  Ms. McKoy sat there for a moment, her fingers drumming the steering wheel as she thought. Her face lit up and she gasped with delight.

  “Now don’t you fret none. I have a great idea!” Ms. McKoy bounced with excitement. “I had this friend who was going through a very ugly divorce one time – actually, it was her third divorce. Anyway. She had married a foreigner who needed a translator. However, her attorney – he wasn’t very good – had forgotten to hire one for the cross examination. Well! There was just an uproar in the courtroom about the attorney trying to drag out the proceedings. It wasn’t true, but that’s beside the point. They couldn’t move forward without a translator and it would’ve taken days to find a suitable one.”

  Ms. McKoy clapped her hands, startling them both. Was Eva following what his mother said? Plums be dumb if he understood what she was driving at.

  “You know what they did?” She continued. “In the end, they realized they had a translator all along… from the defendant’s side! So they asked to use theirs. The problem with that, though, is that you can’t have one translator for two sides – something about ‘conflicts of interest’ or something like that. Anyway. They came to an arrangement that they wouldn’t actually hire the man. Instead, they would donate the fee they would have paid him to his favorite charity. And so that’s how we’re going to get around it, sugar!”

  “Huh?”

  Tanner stifled a laugh at Eva’s look of confusion. The poor girl hadn’t realized she was being steamrolled.

  Wait a minute! Neither had he.

  “You’ll have to excuse my mother.” He gave the Southern minx a very pointed look. “Sometimes she wants to help even when it isn’t necessary.”

  “Isn’t necessary?” Ms. McKoy looked indignant. “With the way you’ve been acting lately? I beg to differ!”

  “I haven’t been—”

  His mother waved away any possible excuse, turning her focus back to Eva instead.

  “So what do you say? Is it a deal?”

  Eva once again studied both mother and son. She gave her head a solid nod.

  “It’s a deal!” She reached through the window to shake Ms. McKoy’s hand.

  “Now do you know where we live?” The woman asked.

  “No, but I can get it off the medical files back inside the clinic,” Eva responded.

  “Wonderful! Then you do that and stop by our place this Saturday – say two o’clock. Is that good for you?”

  Eva nodded with a smile.

  “Alright now. You take care, you hear?”

  Ms. McKoy started up the engine as Eva jogged back to the clinic. Tanner looked over at his mother, arms crossed.

  “Mama, just what do you think you’re doing?”

  “Something I should’ve done a long time ago.” Ms. McKoy put the car in drive. “I’m gonna’ find you a wife!”

  Chapter Five

  Eva slowly drove through the quiet gates of River Rock estates. Majestic cabins of wood and stone lined either side of the street, their manicured lawns all boasting a variety of green goodness. Ripe red roses, entwined in climbing ivy, stretched their vines towards the heavens on one house. A plethora of orchids sprinkled another yard. She double checked the address she had scribbled down before leaving home.

  1918 Whispering Lane.

  Yep. She was in the right place.

  She stared up at the beautiful building, awestruck by its silent declaration of prosperity. She didn’t know what Ms. McKoy did for a living, but whatever it was, she had certainly done well for herself.

  Eva pulled her used sedan into the driveway and put the car in park. She turned in her seat.

  “Now you stay here and behave. Okay?”

  Her dog stared back at her with sad, droopy eyes. Eva let out a frustrated sigh as she focused on gathering her things – and her wits. She hadn’t wanted to bring the dog… especially since Tanner had been ready to quit therapy the last time he saw the golden rescue. However, a lot had happened in the past few days since their session together. Hunter had proven himself more than determined, howling whenever she stepped out the house. She figured he would stop after a couple of minutes, but he apparently had other plans. She had returned to her apartment with a complaint notice attached to the front door, signed “The Mgmt.” Despite having paid the pet fees, the dog would have to go – or they both would – if it continued disturbing the neighbors.

  Rotten Mrs. Rainsworth.

  That’s who had complained to the office. She was sure of it! It seemed the recent widow was bent on finding something wrong with Eva at every possible turn.

  Thus far, she had complained about Eva not doing her part to contribute to “beautifying the neighborhood,” because Eva’s porch was bare. Then she complained that her allergies were being triggered because Eva had decorated with too many exotic flowers, and didn’t the girl know anything at all about moderation?

  Eva shook her head. The easiest solution would be to just move, but that was only in theory. Lake Lure was comparable to a tiny dot on the map, and her apartment complex was the only one within town limits. It was also the most affordable. Ever since she broke off
her engagement, managing all the bills on her own had become difficult. The small studio at Lakeview Apartments had been the only thing in the budget of a part-time-student-slash-barista. Not that she was complaining. She loved the fact that she had found employment at the Coffey Creek Café. However, she would love it even more if she could graduate and find something that paid a living wage.

  A resounding bark from behind startled her from her reverie. Eva sighed. She turned around, kneeling in her seat so she could address the dog.

  “Don’t do that while I’m inside. Por fa?” She pleaded with him. “I’m only going to be in there for an hour. You’ll be fine for that long. I’ll even leave the windows rolled down a little so you can enjoy the cool breeze. Just don’t bark.”

  She rubbed Hunter behind his ears.

  “You beautiful, gentle giant.”

  The dog laid a paw on her arm and she reached past the seat to hug him. Then she got out of the car.

  The dog jumped into the front seat the moment she closed the door. He pushed his nose through the open window.

  “Remember what I said.” She called over her shoulder. “Behave, Hunter.”

  The retriever pulled his head back into the car and laid it down on the steering wheel with a whimper, watching her as she approached the house. Eva barely knocked when the door swung open.

  “Well, hello, sugar. It’s such a pleasure to see you again,” Ms. McKoy crooned. “Come on in and make yourself at home. I’ll go tell my son you’re here.”

  Her hostess rushed down the foyer into some other part of the house as Eva passed under the threshold and into the corridor. She noticed a tall glass vase standing in one corner, ridiculously long stemmed roses growing out of it. A painting of a vine covered cottage hung on the wall above.

  If the rest of the place was as put together as the hallway, then surely she had stumbled into a fairytale. Eva walked further into the house, passing through the first entrance into what was obviously the sitting room.

  She looked around, awestruck.

  For as beautiful as the outside of the house was, it paled in comparison to the inside. With an interior that boasted small romantic touches, and a design that could blow away the cover of any decorating magazine, Eva could only dream she would be fortunate enough to own a house like this one day.

  The walls were a creamy mixture of cocoa and butter blended into puffy mocha clouds that drifted from ceiling to floor – both of which were trimmed with soft white wood scrolling along top and bottom, creating a gentle suggestion that Eva was not really looking at walls at all, but a cup of hot chocolate topped with marshmallows.

  The welcoming furnishings in the room aided in creating the illusion that one was coming in from a cold winter eve. A modest stone fireplace stacked full of logs waited to be lit. Velvety throws of crimson wine graced the matching dark suede sofa and armchair. Eva ran her hand along the smooth back of the chair before sitting down. Its high back and wide seat swallowed her whole as she melted into the cushion. A hazy feeling settled over her as she continued studying the room, her eyelids growing heavy.

  “What do you think?”

  Eva jumped up out of the chair.

  “Ms. McKoy, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I just felt so relaxed.”

  The older woman laughed.

  “Yes, this room tends to have that affect on people. In fact, that’s why I designed it the way I did.”

  “You designed this room yourself?”

  “Yes. I designed every room in this house. That’s what I do – interior design.”

  “Wow, that must be a fascinating job!”

  “Oh, it is. It is. However, it’s very stressful too. You’ve got to deliver unique designs on every project you accept – even the ones with the uppity clients who don’t know what it is they want despite the fact that you’re hitting them square in the head with the darn sample.”

  Eva laughed. “Well, at least you’re doing what you love.”

  “Sort of. I never really wanted to be an interior decorator. However, I am an artist and I love painting more than anything else. People aren’t big into buying art, though. They want celebrity posters or prints and other such nonsense hanging on their walls. Hardly anyone actually commissions an artist to paint for them anymore. Decorating for people allows me to incorporate my own work. So I pick the palette for their walls and – once approved by the homeowner – I hire the painting crew to come on out and do the interior while I come back here and work on a signature oil piece.

  “That sounds lovely.”

  “Mmm.” Ms. McKoy nodded. “Comes with a lovely price tag, too.”

  She gave Eva a wink and added, “Too bad my son doesn’t want to use his God given talents. He could create an amazing life for himself.”

  Eva perked up and looked around. Speaking of son… where was Tanner anyway?

  “Is he an artist too?” She asked, still distracted.

  “No, he’s a writer.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, he most certainly is. He doesn’t like much to admit it, but he can turn a phrase that could make a grown man cry. The way he would write letters home, describing the war? Well, I thought I was just being an oversensitive mama. It wasn’t true, though. I shared his letters with a couple of friends of mine – one of whom is a literary agent. They all felt the same. Said he was a bestseller just waiting to happen. So I told him to collect all his letters and put them in a manuscript of sorts, but he reacts the same way he does most things nowadays. Angry… sad… guilty. I don’t know. I really don’t know what’s going through his head anymore.”

  Ms. McKoy suddenly looked overwhelmed with exhaustion. Eva reached out and placed a hand on her arm.

  “Maybe I can help somehow,” she offered.

  The older woman visibly brightened.

  “You know what?” She spoke with mild excitement. “I think you honestly could. I mean, it isn’t only Tanner’s body that’s been wounded. It’s his soul. He needs so much more than just physical therapy. He needs a friend – someone he can talk to. Someone who can look at all of him, and not just the broken parts.”

  Eva’s hand dropped. She swallowed hard. Could she do that? Could she actually do what Ms. McKoy suggested?

  She thought for a moment. Wasn’t that what made a good rehabilitation therapist anyway? They needed to see past what was to what could be. The patient wasn’t their injury or disability. They were more than that, and a good therapist would help them to see it.

  Eva slowly nodded. “Okay.”

  Ms. McKoy grabbed Eva and drew her into a brief, tight hug. She released her, eyes shining bright in a once again relaxed face.

  “Oh, I’m just tickled pink! I know Tanner is going to be thrilled! Well, maybe not entirely thrilled at first, but I can tell that you’re just a sweet little thing. So it won’t be no time at all until he’s warmed up to you the way I have.”

  “Speaking of your son,” Eva interrupted, “where is he anyway?”

  Ms. McKoy threw her hands up in the air.

  “Oh, bother. The boy ain’t here.”

  “I don’t understand.” Eva wondered why the woman had allowed her to rattle on instead of mentioning her son’s absence sooner. “Where is he?”

  “Who knows? Maybe at a pub, or even up the mountain.”

  “Up the—”

  Eva’s mouth dropped open. How in the world did an amputee in a wheelchair get up a mountain?

  As if reading her unasked question, Ms. McKoy volunteered an explanation.

  “You see, Chimney Rock has an elevator. It also has lots of smooth paths, and even a few paved ones. That’s why it’s such a tourist attraction. It’s also why so many people decide to retire here, which is just fine by me since it’s really added to my clientele. Unfortunately…”

  Ms. McKoy drifted off. She let out a tired sigh.

  “It provides a great escape?”

  The older woman nodded. A look of defeat flitted
across her face.

  “How does he even get around?” She raised her hands in confusion.

  “You’d be surprised,” Ms. McKoy explained. “He’s stayed in touch with a couple of guys from before the war, and they’re more than willing to give him a ride. Then there’s the occasional taxi. Oh, and let’s not forget… he can still walk, you know. The wheelchair makes things easier sometimes. However, his back works just fine. Well, as fine as can be expected. So he’s gotten pretty independent with a pair of crutches.”

  “Let me guess,” Eva suggested. “It’s just trying to walk with a prosthetic that’s a problem.”

  “Exactly!”

  Eva was about to offer a suggestion when Ms. McKoy suddenly threw her hands up in the air again.

  “Now where are my manners? I didn’t even offer you anything to drink. You like sweet tea?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “Why, of course you do! Everyone likes sweet tea. Especially the way I make it. Why don’t you have you set yourself down again and I’ll be right back.”

  Eva did as suggested and thought about everything she had been told. The crutches explained a lot. They were able to provide balance on both sides – which explained why Tanner had been able to make it down the parallel bars with hardly any assistance. He had probably been using his arms instead of his legs to do most of the work. That’s why his arms shook when he finished using the parallel bars.

  She let out a sigh.

  That wouldn’t help him any. Why hadn’t Dr. Nelson redirected him? If she was able to figure it out, then surely the doctor was aware of the situation.

  Irritation began to take root inside her, but withered away as Ms. McKoy reentered the room. Eva stood to accept the tall glass of sweetened ice tea the woman offered, her thoughts still on Tanner.