by Lori Foster
“We knocked at Buck’s,” Clair explained, “but when we didn’t get an answer, we decided to check out here.”
Butch raced to greet them, and Harris knelt down close to the low fence. Tish cowered back into the farthest corner of her contained play area.
“She’s still so shy,” Harris said with a worried frown. “It just breaks my heart. I swear, Sadie, I don’t know how you do this.”
Butch allowed Harris to pat him a few times, then he ran back to Tish.
Sadie sent a fond smile to Tish. “Some cases are harder than others.” She stood. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Harris shook his head. “No, that’s okay. We just stopped by because I have a suggestion.” He gave Buck a surreptitious glance and then cleared his throat. “There’s a house for sale next door to Riley’s.”
Buck stilled. His brain went blank. “There is?”
“It’s small,” Harris hurried to explain, “and like the one we picked, it needs some work. But if you bought it, the dogs would be close together.” He winked—and Buck caught on.
Bless Harris, even he had a good idea every now and then.
Clair knelt down and offered her hand for the dogs to sniff. “Assuming you’d want to keep Tish,” she told Sadie. “I mean, I know you’re supposed to be getting her ready for a family, but she’s…special.” She glanced at Sadie. “Isn’t she?”
With her bottom lip caught in her teeth, a sure sign she felt unsure of the situation, Sadie nodded. Her voice was faint, and touched with emotion.
“Very special. I’d already thought of keeping her.” She glanced at Buck, then away. “She’s going to need a lot more care before she’s comfortable with being held. She’s shy by nature, I think, and whatever she went through set her back more than I’d realized.”
Harris cleared his throat. “If she was able to see Butch every day, that’d help, don’t you think?”
“Yes, being with Butch comforts her.”
Buck watched Sadie, foolishly wondering if she loved Tish enough to marry him, buy a house and make a home.
“How much is the house?” Sadie asked. Then she added, “I’m not sure I could afford it.”
Harris again glanced at Buck. “With your combined incomes…”
Buck stood, cutting off Harris’s suggestion. He wanted Sadie, more than he’d ever wanted anything else in his life, but damn it, he didn’t need his friend to propose for him, and he didn’t want a house to be the reason she married him.
She had to love him.
“You said you were just stopping by. You on your way somewhere?”
Taking the hint, Clair said, “We’re having dinner with my boss and his wife. We just wanted to tell you about the house.” And because Sadie had asked, Clair turned to her. “It’s cheap enough that Rosie doesn’t think it’ll stay on the market long.”
“Thanks. We’ll check into it.” Buck stepped past Sadie. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.”
Sadie also stood. “Thank you,” she called to them before Buck could haul them away.
After they’d rounded the corner and were out of earshot, he thumped Harris on the back. “Thanks.”
Clair smiled. “We figured it couldn’t hurt to put the thought in your heads.”
“The thought’s been in mine almost from the first. Sadie’s the one who needs to be convinced. And I’m working on that.”
“Work fast,” Harris suggested. “Riley and Red will be back tomorrow, and the house won’t last.”
“Gotcha.” But Sadie didn’t deserve to be rushed. She deserved a slow, romantic courtship. Still, when he thought of Tish alone, without Butch as a companion…
When he returned, Sadie was sitting in a sunny spot inside the fence, stroking Butch and crooning to Tish. With his arms crossed over his chest, Buck stopped to stare down at her. “So, what do you think?”
She continued to pet the dog. “About what?”
His temper edged up a notch. He pointed a finger at her. “You know damn good and well about what. The house.”
She ducked her head and shrugged. “I don’t know. What do you think?”
Frustrated, Buck stepped over the fence and sat beside her. “You are planning to keep Tish, aren’t you? Because I gotta tell you, if you don’t, I will.”
Sadie’s head jerked up. “Really?”
“Damn right. She needs someone to love her a lot. Forever. She needs calm and quiet. In just the two weeks I’ve known her, she’s gotten back more fur.”
Sadie looked caught between laughing and crying. “She looks like a sleek little seal now, doesn’t she?”
“She’s beautiful.” Buck touched Sadie’s cheek, and he was appalled to see his hand shake. “Just as you said she’d be.”
Sadie’s eyes were sad, and her smile wobbled. “She’s fatter, too.”
“She reminds me of a little sumo wrestler, especially when she’s sneaking up to steal something from me.” He peered down at her. “She’s not exactly graceful.”
Sadie leaned against Buck and laughed.
Buck melted.
And suddenly, Tish crept over.
They both froze. The little dog had her ears flat on her head, her big brown eyes watchful—and hopeful. She slowly, so very slowly, did an army crawl…right into Sadie’s lap.
“Ohmigod,” Sadie whispered.
Butch blinked his big eyes in stunned surprise at this change. Since he’d been in Sadie’s lap first, Tish was now half sitting on him. She outweighed Butch by at least a pound, and for four-pound Butch, that pound was a lot.
But he didn’t complain.
“Slow,” Buck whispered. “Go real slow.” He reached out with one finger and tickled the dog’s chin. Her worried gaze transferred to him, and her tail lifted in a one-wag thump. She looked very undecided about things, but she didn’t run off.
Holding his breath, Buck carefully tickled his way over her muzzle, to her ear, and then to the top of her little round head, which was no longer bald, but soft with chocolate-brown fur.
Tish let out a long, doggie sigh, dropped her head onto Sadie’s thigh and closed her eyes.
“You did it, Sadie.” Buck’s heart swelled so big, it felt ready to pop out of his chest.
Enormous tears swam in Sadie’s eyes. “This is stupid,” she whispered on a shaky laugh, “but I feel like bawling.”
“Yeah,” Buck admitted, “me, too.”
Sadie leaned on his shoulder. “Butch has to have most of the credit.”
Reminded of his goal, Buck was quick to agree. “It’d be a damn shame to separate them now, don’t you think? I bet Regina would love the idea of letting them play together. She’s taken only freelance jobs lately so she could be home more with Butch. And when she has to be away for regular business hours, she or Riley come home at lunchtime. If we were right next door—”
With her head still on his shoulder, Sadie squeaked, “We?” She twisted to see him. “You think we should buy the house—”
“Together.” He smoothed his hand over the dogs, taking turns petting them. “It’s a good plan.”
She stared at him in mute surprise.
That irritated Buck. “You know the dogs would like it.”
Sadie nodded. “Yes. But…would you like it?”
He touched her cheek. “I’d love it.”
She bit her bottom lip, drew a deep breath, then nodded. “I’d love it, too.”
The tension left Buck in a rush. Then Sadie said, “Because I love you.”
His back snapped straight. “What did you say?”
His strangled voice startled the dogs, and he rushed to calm them with soft pats.
Sadie held his gaze. “I love you, Buck Boswell. You’re the most wonderful, loving, giving man. Even in my imagination, I didn’t think anyone like you could exist. But here you are, sitting in the yard, petting little dogs and offering to buy houses and being so wonderful…how could I not love you?”
He almost hyperve
ntilated. “I love you, too.” He wanted to grab her up and swing her around and laugh out loud. But he didn’t want to upset Tish. “I’ve loved you since the day you ran into my place in your nightie, demanding I go head to head with a killer cicada.”
She blushed. “I am sorry about that.”
“I’m not. If Tish hadn’t caught the nasty bug, we might not have gotten together. And I never would have realized that you and one tiny bald dog were the very things missing in my life.”
She didn’t laugh the way he expected. Instead, she bit her lip.
Buck kissed her, licked her bottom lip to soothe it, then asked, “What is it?”
“Will you marry me?”
He stared at her, then burst out laughing. The dogs barely paid him any mind, but Sadie blushed hotly. “I would have been on one knee within the next five minutes. Thank you for saving me the trouble.”
Her cheeks turned pink. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“I love you. Everything about you,” he reminded her. “Thank you for proposing to me, and yes, I accept.”
“There’ll probably be more dogs. I can’t give up what I do.”
The cautious warning only made him grin again. “Okay by me. After all, the dogs are nothing compared to my loony friends.”
Her smile warmed his heart. “Your friends are wonderful.”
“Yeah, they are.”
“Do you think we should get ahold of Rosie and make an offer on the house right away?” She bubbled with new enthusiasm.
“Yeah.” He stood, pulled Sadie to her feet, and then his voice lowered to a husky rumble. “We’ll get right to that.”
“After?” Sadie asked, and her voice, too, grew rough.
“After,” he agreed.
A FEW MONTHS LATER, they closed on the house. Once they moved in, Sadie did indeed bring in more dogs. But with the means to keep them, she couldn’t bear to give them away.
They ended up with three—which Buck claimed was fair, since he had the same number of buddies.
Ethan ended up with two dogs, and Harris had a dog and a cat. Every get-together did resemble a zoo—not that anyone minded.
In fact, the men began speculating that the dogs needed kids to play with. And judging by the love and attention they gave their pets, the women had no doubts that they’d make doting fathers.
Butch and Tish remained the best of friends. Whenever there was a crowd, they crawled under a couch together—curled up in Buck’s yellow boxers.
Sadie claimed that Tish saw the boxers as a security blanket.
Buck saw Sadie the same way. His life had always been good.
Now, with Sadie as his wife, it was perfect.
*
An Honorable Man
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Epilogue
CHAPTER ONE
CHAOS REIGNED IN the classroom as the kids returned from their second recess. Liv Amery listened to the comforting sounds of their bustling activity, the scraping of chairs, the continued childish chatter. The cold mid-May weather had made their small faces ruddy, and had resulted in several runny noses. Wind-ruffled and still wound up from the recent play, they were utterly adorable.
Only an hour remained in the school day, and then the kids would head home. She had just enough time to finish going over the math lessons. Giving them time to remove their jackets and settle in their seats, Liv retrieved several papers from her desk. When everyone had quieted, she stood and went to the chalkboard, ready to start the afternoon lessons.
That’s when she heard it—the even, very precise cadence of military footfalls echoing down the tiled hallway. She’d grown up hearing that sound, the memory of it buried deep in her heart. But hearing it now, here in an elementary school, nearly stopped her heart.
With one hand raised, a piece of chalk still in her now limp fingers, she faced the blackboard, listening as those steps came closer and closer and finally stopped at the door of her third-grade room.
Heart pounding, throat tight, she began silent prayers. A visit from the military now could only mean one thing, and the idea that her most dreaded nightmare could have happened, that she might have lost him before she’d ever really had him…. No. She couldn’t accept that.
Then her senses picked up more subtle nuances. Not just any military walk, but one so familiar that, almost on cue, her stomach did a small flip and her lungs expanded with relief. They were telling reactions, an inbred response to one particular man.
Hamilton was okay. Thank you, God.
But because he’d come unannounced, not to her home, but to her school, her uneasiness remained. He was fine, but his visit here today could only mean one thing.
Wanting to shut out the moment, Liv started to close her eyes, and the door opened. With a mix of dread and awful yearning, she turned.
There he stood: Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton Wulf. Tall, strong, commanding. Exactly as she remembered him.
His brown eyes zeroed in on her face and stayed there, as probing and intimidating as ever. He wore no smile of welcome because this wasn’t a social call.
Shaken, Liv pulled her gaze from his and looked him over, making note of the hat tucked under his arm, his polished shoes and the razor-sharp crease in his dress blues.
Hamilton was fine—but her father wasn’t.
Knees going weak, Liv felt herself swaying, and suddenly Hamilton was there, his big hands warm and steady on her shoulders, keeping her upright. Close to her ear, he murmured, “Come with me, Liv.”
He didn’t wait for her agreement before finding her purse under her desk, pulling her sweater off the back of her chair, and leading her quietly, efficiently from her classroom. Her fractured senses scrambled to understand the situation, to absorb the enormity of what she knew to be true.
“Easy,” Hamilton said, redirecting her thoughts with his presence. “Just keep walking.”
Liv became aware of Betty Nobel, a teacher’s aide, taking charge of her students; aware of the children staring in wide-eyed wonder at the awe-inspiring figure Hamilton made, and aware of the strained hush in the air.
When they reached the front lobby of the school, the fog lifted and she pulled up. From as far back as Liv could remember, the military had ruled her life. But she’d finally broken free, and no one, not even Hamilton, could come back and start directing her again. She’d known this day would come. It had only been a matter of time. She’d prepared herself, living in dread day in and day out.
She could handle this. What choice did she have?
Hamilton waited while she dragged in two deep breaths. His hand remained on her elbow, his gaze steady and unblinking, the force of his will settling around her like a warm, heavy blanket.
Liv tipped up her chin to see his face. Although she already knew, she wanted it confirmed. “It’s Daddy, isn’t it?”
The second her gaze met his, Liv felt the old familiar connection. She felt his sympathy and his understanding and his need to comfort. It had always been that way with Hamilton, regardless of how she fought it.
His expression remained stern, but his voice sounded oddly gentle. “Outside, baby. Then we’ll talk.”
Liv looked beyond him to where another uniformed man and a uniformed woman stood on the front steps. They both appeared to be younger than Hamilton, probably in their early thirties, while Hamilton now edged close to forty.
Being a military brat, Liv automatically sought out the truth. She noted the young man had a religious symbol where Hamilton had wings, and the woman carried a small medical bag.
A chaplain and a military doctor. Did she need any more confirmation than that?
“Come on.” Hamilton’s arm went around her, pulling her protectively into his side and before Liv knew it, he had her outside in the brisk wind with the blinding sunshine in her face. Slipping on aviator sunglasses, H
amilton hustled her to the car.
Indicating the doctor, he said, “Liv, these are friends of mine, Major Cheryl Tyne and Captain Gary Nolan.”
They both nodded, their gazes respectful and sympathetic.
“Father, Doc, meet Weston’s daughter, Liv Amery.”
Liv tried for a smile, but had no idea if she’d succeeded. Major Tyne settled behind the wheel while the chaplain opened the rear door. Hamilton urged Liv into the back seat. Before she’d completely seated herself, his body crowded in next to hers, giving her no room to retreat, no room to react. He was so close, Liv breathed in his familiar scent, felt the touch of his body heat everywhere.
With a strange tenderness, especially considering his size and capability, Ham put his arms around her, gathering her to his chest.
She waited, breath held.
“I’m sorry, Liv.”
Odd, how she’d held out the faintest, most ridiculous hope. Now her hopes sank and around her distress, she felt burning anger. “No.” She tried to push away from Ham, but his thick, strong arms kept her close. “No, no, no—”
“Shh.” His hand cradled her face. “He had a heart attack, Liv. There was nothing anyone could do.”
A heart attack? Surprise silenced her. The military hadn’t taken him as she’d always feared? But how could his health have failed him when he’d always prided himself on being in prime physical condition?
It seemed…ironic. And so damn unfair.
Sick to her soul, Liv slumped against Hamilton, felt his hand stroking through her hair, his breath on her cheek.
Visions of her father—strong, proud, coldly distant in his discipline—warred with the image of him struggling for breath, a hand to his chest. “Did he…?”
“It was quick, baby, too damn quick.” To Major Tyne, he said, “Doc, take us to my motel room.”
“Sure, Howler.”
Howler? She hadn’t heard Ham referred to by his call name in a very long time. Some day, she’d find out why they called him that.
