by Deb Kastner
Today she’d selected young, loving Tugger the pit bull mix, a special favorite of hers. She adored the way he always looked as if he was smiling, and his temperament was as sweet as his naturally upturned mug.
As she entered the foyer, she immediately looked around for Oscar. Aaron would be easy enough to spot as well, no matter what he happened to be wearing. He was tall enough to stand a head above most of the congregants and, though she wouldn’t admit it to anyone but herself, catching his eye in any situation would surely make her heart swell.
But how could it not? He was a new guy in a town full of men with whom she’d grown up. Whispering Pines was a small town without a lot of eligible bachelors. Aaron was handsome in a rough kind of way and was a man who would catch most women’s eyes. Why wouldn’t she notice him?
Finally, she found him. He was standing stiffly in the far corner of the foyer all by himself, his arms crossed over his chest and gaze on the floor. It wasn’t exactly a stance that welcomed people to approach him and introduce themselves, especially given his size, though she knew the people of Whispering Pines Community Church would look beyond that and offer their hands in friendship.
What she didn’t see was Oscar.
Her gaze narrowed on Aaron, and she pressed her lips together. What had he not understood about her instructions to take Oscar with him everywhere?
Frustrating man.
But she would give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he had a good reason for not bringing Oscar with him, although she couldn’t think of a single one right off the top of her noggin. Shaking her head in dismay, she sniffed and guided Tugger along with her as she weaved her way across the room, smiling and greeting everyone she knew.
“Aaron,” she called as she approached. He looked up and she waved at him. He jerked a nod in response. “I’m glad you could make it.”
He audibly let out the breath he’d been holding. He was obviously not a people person the way Ruby was. She was outgoing and received her energy from being around other people, so it was hard for her to even vaguely understand what it would be like not to want to be at the center of attention—something Aaron was clearly loath to do. He looked as if he wanted to crawl into the nearest hole, if the earth would be so cooperative as to open one for him.
“I’m happy to see you,” he said. “I was starting to worry maybe you weren’t coming. You wouldn’t desert me now, would you?”
She shook her head. “Oh, I never miss services. Nor do my brothers and sisters and my grandpa. We were christened right here in this church, and this is where we grew up and learned all about the Lord.”
“And your parents?” he asked.
It had been over five years, but grief still had a way of smacking her sideways at the most inopportune of moments. She knew it showed in her expression.
“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching out and pressing his palm to her shoulder. “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.”
“Maybe I can tell you about them later.”
“Sure. Later,” he agreed. “It’s about time to head into the sanctuary, anyway. Cool dog, by the way.” He gestured at Tugger. “I thought you said you didn’t have any tough dogs in your program.”
A laugh escaped Ruby’s lips. “Oh, Aaron, if only you knew what you were saying. Tugger here is the least daunting dog we have in the program. He’s a total sweetheart. But trust me when I say he’s not quite the right dog for you. He’s actually being trained for use in therapy work.”
“You have your pit bull doing therapy work and a poodle with a marine handler? It seems to me you’ve got it backward.”
She smiled and shook her head but didn’t bother arguing. She’d spent her whole adult life training service dogs. It wasn’t about how they looked on the outside. It was all about their temperaments. Speaking of poodles, however...
“Since you mentioned Oscar—where, exactly, is he right now?”
“Back at the B and B. Don’t worry. I crated him just like you told me to do. I even gave him a toy. He’s safe and happy right now.”
“No. What I told you to do was take Oscar with you everywhere you go.”
“Not church, though, surely. I wouldn’t have even considered bringing him here.”
Ruby raised an eyebrow and gestured her chin toward Tugger.
“Especially church,” she countered. “Think about it, Aaron. Oscar has to learn to avoid distractions and stay quiet while he’s working. He can’t do that if you don’t keep him with you. Besides, he’s going to be your permanent service dog. From now on he’ll be with you twenty-four hours out of every day. How else can he be there when you may need help? That could happen anywhere, even at church.”
“Oh.” He looked as if someone had let the wind out of his sails. But then his expression hardened—probably because she’d mentioned he might need help from time to time and was too stubborn to admit that was the case.
“It was an honest mistake,” she said in a reassuring tone. He’d already reached out to her, so this time she was the one reaching for his arm. Her palm landed on his bicep, and his muscles contracted. Off went her mind, zinging around in la-la land instead of paying attention.
She reminded herself that Aaron was a bullheaded marine, her client, and so far, she’d had nothing but trouble with him.
And yet—biceps.
That was it. It was time to jump back into the dating pool. She was going to the next country dance, and she was going to dance every set with as many different single men as Whispering Pines could dole out, at least those who she hadn’t had bad breakups with. Perhaps God would bless her and there’d be some new handsome, unattached men in town. Because she was treading on very thin ice when she started noticing her client as a very attractive man.
Especially Aaron.
He’d be here four weeks, and then he’d be gone.
This whole crazy situation probably belonged on a television drama. The association between her and Aaron would thankfully draw to a close at the end of training.
So why didn’t that make her feel as relieved as it ought to have done?
* * *
Now, how was Aaron to know that he was supposed to bring Oscar to church, of all places? He’d read through all the documents Ruby had given him—several times over, in fact. It wasn’t easy to absorb. There were so many details to memorize, everything from when and how to feed Oscar to what to expect from the dog when they went out for a walk together. He didn’t know how he would ever remember everything.
He supposed that was what these four weeks of instruction were for. Training exercises. Just like in the marines, a man had to practice, practice and then practice some more, until everything became second nature to him. When he was in the middle of a firefight, even if he didn’t remember everything he was supposed to do, his training would automatically snap in.
He supposed that applied to Oscar, as well. As a sergeant, he’d been in charge of training and leading the marines in his squad, and he knew it was a matter of repeating exercises over and over again until they were second nature and then debriefing the men thoroughly after each session.
This whole thing with Ruby and Oscar was different, and yet in many ways it was vaguely similar to his past experiences. Perhaps he ought to treat this new canine-training exercise the same way he’d conquered the rest of his life. He didn’t like it, but then again, he didn’t have to. It was only four weeks, after all, and then he could decide whether this was truly going to work out for him.
Worst-case scenario, he would walk away from it all in the end without a service dog, but since he wasn’t yet entirely convinced that he needed one in the first place, what did it matter in the long run? It wasn’t as if he’d raised his hand and volunteered to be here. He still had major doubts about this whole program, especially about his froufrou dog. Although, if he was being honest, he ha
dn’t totally hated relaxing on the couch the night before watching ESPN with Oscar curled up next to him, and he could imagine doing it on a regular basis. Both of them had munched on beef jerky—a high-protein treat Oscar apparently enjoyed as much as Aaron.
But bringing a dog to church?
He just wouldn’t have thought of it, and he certainly wouldn’t have liked it. Talk about embarrassing. If he didn’t already stand out like a sore thumb just by being here, Oscar would surely have drawn every eye. And yet he supposed what Ruby was saying made sense. The whole point of having Oscar was to help him when he needed it—which could theoretically mean church. It wasn’t clear yet what Oscar was supposed to do that Aaron couldn’t do himself.
And he most certainly wasn’t quite at the point where he would be comfortable showing up for worship in a shirt and tie with a poufy poodle at his side. He wasn’t sure if it was humility or humiliation poking at him, but he didn’t like it either way.
In the foyer—where many church members were clustered in small groups, chatting and enjoying fellowship with one another—Ruby had quickly dragged him around to meet the rest of the Winslow crew. Like Ruby, they were an overtly friendly lot. Every one of Ruby’s sisters had a dog at her heel, but no one other than Ruby, who’d made her private comments to him earlier, questioned why he hadn’t brought Oscar with him on this outing or made him feel awkward or out of place.
But oh, did they ever rave on about how wonderful their sister was. As if he couldn’t see it himself. Evidently, Ruby was both the brains and the heart behind A New Leash on Love. All her sisters worked in the program to one extent or another, but service dogs were Ruby’s whole life’s mission.
Shame washed over him as he heard story after story about Ruby’s kind heart and all the time and effort she’d gone through to get to where she was today. And here he was, making things as difficult for her as he possibly could, from the moment he’d made his first pronouncement about not wanting to be here until right this moment, balking even now by not bringing Oscar with him today.
He followed the Winslows into the sanctuary, and Ruby gestured to the seat next to her on the pew. She really hadn’t been kidding when she said her family took up two full pews. And yet Ruby purposefully made a spot for him so he wouldn’t be alone during his first time worshipping at this new church. Even after everything he’d done to make things difficult for her, she was still being kind to him.
He was starting to feel wishy-washy about everything. Maybe he didn’t really care for this mission, but when had that ever mattered in the past? He knew more than most that a marine did what he was ordered to do. Never mind that he was a vet and was here on the recommendation of his doctor as well as Major Kelley.
This operation hadn’t played all the way through yet. He needed to man up and put his nose to the grindstone, really work the program and train as hard as he expected the marines under his supervision to do. Otherwise, how would he know for sure whether or not the program would work for others?
It wasn’t even for his own sake that he needed to complete this mission. He might not like it, but many of his military brothers and sisters coming into the program after him would benefit from what Ruby could do for them even if he, Aaron, could not.
He wouldn’t screw this up, no matter how much he wanted to drag his feet.
He tried to turn his attention to the worship but found his mind occasionally wandering to the pretty ginger-haired woman next to him. She was the complete opposite of the stereotypical fiery redhead. She conquered the world with soft words and a sweet voice. When she sang, it was an almost-physical sensation, her melodious soprano lifting the rafters in praise to the Lord.
He didn’t sing. His voice was too low and raspy, and he couldn’t carry a tune to save his life. And he wouldn’t have opened his mouth even if he could. He didn’t feel like singing.
He had a lot weighing down his heart that he wanted to share with God, so once the service had ended, he stayed behind to kneel and pray as everyone else left the sanctuary. He didn’t even know Ruby had slipped into the pew behind him until he felt Tugger’s wet nose snuffling the back of his neck.
Aaron stiffened as he whirled around in the pew.
Ruby was giggling behind her hand and looking at him apologetically.
He raised his brows.
“Now you know Tugger’s secret gift,” she whispered. “This is what he does. He’s a lover puppy. There’s nothing he likes better in this world than cuddling people, making sad hoomans happy again.”
“Hmmph,” he replied, fighting half a grin. “I get what you’re trying to tell me. I think.”
He definitely didn’t want a lover puppy for his service dog, but Tugger would look a whole lot better than Oscar at the end of his leash any day of the week. He supposed there was a whole lot more to selecting a service dog than he’d realized.
“I don’t mean to bother you if you’re still praying. In truth, I was trying to wait quietly until you were finished so I could speak with you about something, but thanks to Tugger that didn’t happen. I’ll leave you to your prayers, and we’ll talk another time.”
“No, that’s fine. I’m finished. What’s up?”
The smile dropped from her lips, and he could tell she was fighting to find the right words. Her hands were curled over the back of the pew, and Aaron reached out and put one of his hands over hers. Her hand was shaking.
“You can talk to me,” he assured her gently. Which was really a first in so many ways. He wasn’t exactly the guy people came to with their problems.
“I know. Thank you. I—” She stopped, sounding as if she’d choked on the word. “Earlier you asked me about my parents. It’s a story I think you should know. Bear with me, though. I still have a hard time talking about it.”
He had to admit he was curious. He couldn’t imagine how anything to do with her parents would relate to him in any way, but he remained silent and nodded for her to continue.
“My father was in the army. Infantry. I don’t know what all he did there, but he was gone a lot. I know he was part of the Gulf War.”
So, she wasn’t as completely unfamiliar with the military lifestyle as he’d first believed her to be. She was an army brat. Was that why she was so desperate for this current contract—so she could help soldiers like her father?
“What happened to him?”
Her hands fisted tighter around the pew’s edge, and she pinched her lips together. “He served his time and was honorably discharged at the end of it. Thankfully, he came home alive and without any external injuries.”
She cringed when she realized what she’d said, but he simply scoffed and nodded for her to continue.
“But like many veterans, he wasn’t the same man who’d left with stars in his eyes, believing he was going off to save the world. He might not have had any external injuries, no bullet holes or broken bones, but the internal scars were there and just as serious.”
Aaron clenched his teeth. Without realizing it, he’d been stroking Tugger’s head as they talked. The dog had simply wedged his body in close to him and leaned his weight on him, offering support in a way Aaron was only beginning to understand—what it was that made Tugger such a good therapy dog.
What he did understand was what Ruby’s father had gone through. The scars, though invisible, were very real, as was the inexplicable draw to military life. Aaron had been one of those youngsters who, even before he’d finished high school, couldn’t wait to sign his name on the dotted line. The recruiter who’d come to visit his school in an eye-catching blue uniform had told him he wouldn’t be joining the marines—he’d become one.
He had become a marine, all right. The marines had changed his life, for better and for worse.
“Active military and our blessed veterans have saved the world numerous times over, and I cannot even begin to imagine what they hav
e to go through every day. They—you—still face and beat the odds,” said Ruby quietly, her eyes full of compassion. “I have so much respect for all of you. But for my father, it was too much.”
Aaron narrowed his gaze on Ruby, his gut clenching as he realized where this conversation was leading. “In what way?”
“I don’t know if it was the way he was internally wired or whether he just saw more than he was able to handle while on his tour of duty. He came home from the war with severe PTSD, possibly partially caused by a TBI. Like I said, he was honorably discharged, but after that, he could never hold a job down for more than a matter of months. He would start off determined to do well, but soon he’d be arriving late to work or not at all. After he’d been fired a few times, he just stopped trying altogether.”
“I’m so sorry.” His voice came out as thick as gravel.
“My mom was as much of a hero as he was. More, even. She refused to allow us to move from base to base. She was determined that we’d grow up here in Whispering Pines. She had six small children, yet she stepped up and took over running Winslow’s Woodlands, which at the time was a much smaller ideation than what you see today, while my father ran off to war and came home a shell of a man, tinkering around in his shop and avoiding life.”
Aaron understood her father better than Ruby ever would, but it wasn’t something he’d talk about.
Not to Ruby. Not to anyone.
Internal scars, he understood.
The things he’d seen and experienced...
Her gaze caught his. She was begging for something, but he didn’t know what.
“I’m so sorry,” he said again. Then he realized she had only spoken of her mom and dad in the past tense and they weren’t at church. “Your parents. They’re...?”
