The Soldier's Redemption

by Lee Tobin McClain

  The dog came closer, walking with a hunched, halting gait, but stopped short and cringed back as Finn emerged from the kennel. He held up his phone. “That was blood. I called the vet,” he said. “Her new-dog appointment was supposed to be today, but he had to cancel. He says he can come out but he has to bring his baby boy.”

  She nodded, still watching the wary dog. “What do you think is wrong with Winter?”

  Finn shook his head slowly, his mouth twisting. “The story is that she had a litter of stillborn pups. The owner got mad and started beating her.”

  Kayla gasped. “Who does that?” Sudden tears blurred her vision. The dog was beautiful, one of God’s innocent creatures. That someone would feel he had the right to abuse her...

  “The guys who dropped her off say they’re going to call him up on animal abuse charges. But they wanted to make sure she was safe first.” He studied the dog. “I’ll step away. She’s probably afraid of men, and for good reason. Maybe you can get her to come over.”

  It took continued encouragement and the tossing of several treats before the dog got close enough for Kayla to touch her.

  “Be careful,” Finn said quietly from his position on the other side of the dog run. “She’s been treated badly. She may bite.”

  Kayla clicked her tongue and held out another treat, then carefully reached out to rub the dog’s chest. Winter let out a low whine.

  “Here, baby. Have a snack.” She waved the remaining treat, gently.

  The dog grabbed it from her hand and retreated to a safe distance to eat.

  “You stay out here with her,” Finn said. “I’ll get the rest of the kennels clean and then bring the other dogs in. I worry about contagion. No telling what she’s picked up.”

  So Kayla sat in the sun, sweet-talking the old dog. After Finn took the other dogs in, as the day warmed up, Winter approached close enough that Kayla could scratch her ears.

  She patted the ground. “Go ahead—relax. Just rest.”

  But the dog remained alert, jumping up when a chipmunk raced past, then sinking back down on her haunches, head on front paws, eyes wary.

  Kayla knew how that felt. “It’s hard to relax when you’re worried for your safety, isn’t it?” she crooned. “It’s all right. We’ll protect you here.”

  What was true for the dog might be true for Kayla, too. Sometimes, during the past week, she’d felt her habitual high-alert state ebb away. Even now, the hot sun melted tension from her shoulders.

  After half an hour, she heard a vehicle approach and a door slam. Soon Finn appeared with a jeans-clad man he introduced as Dr. DeMoise.

  “Call me Jack,” the tall vet said easily, shifting a wide-eyed baby from one shoulder to the other so he could shake her hand.

  “Your son’s beautiful,” Kayla said. Without her willing it, her arms reached for the baby boy. “Do you think he’ll let me hold him?”

  “Most likely.” The vet smiled his thanks. “He’s not real clingy yet.”

  She lifted the baby from his arms. The child—probably about six months old—stared at her with wide eyes and started to fuss a little. Kayla walked and hummed and clucked to him. Comforting a baby must be like riding a bike: it came back easily. Leo had been colicky, and she’d spent a lot of time soothing him.

  Now, holding the vet’s baby close and settling him, longing bloomed inside her. She hadn’t let herself think about having another baby, not when she was with Mitch, and not in the difficult year after getting divorced, when she’d been struggling to start a business and fend him off. Now desire for another little one took her breath away.

  Forget about it, she ordered herself.

  But with Leo growing up so fast...

  The baby stiffened and let out a fussy cry, probably sensing her inner conflict. She breathed in and out slowly and walked him around the field.

  Once she’d gotten the baby calmed down, she watched as Jack squatted near the dog, who seemed to be in increasing distress. Finn leaned against the fence several feet away, watching.

  “I’m wondering if she’s got another pup,” the vet said finally. “You said her litter was stillborn?”

  “And her owner beat her right after she gave birth.”

  The vet grimaced. “I’m going to need to take her in, but let’s see what she’s trying to do now, first. Couple of clean towels?”

  Finn went inside and the doctor examined the dog and pressed her abdomen gently.

  Kayla walked over, swaying gently with the baby. “Is she going to be okay?”

  The vet frowned. “I hope so. It’s good you called.”

  “Could she have another live pup?”

  “No. Not after almost a day, not likely.” He rubbed the dog’s ears, gently. “But we’ll do our best to take care of Mama, here. She doesn’t deserve what happened to her.”

  “Nobody does.” Kayla leaned closer and saw a couple of wounds on the dog’s back and leg.

  Finn handed the towels to the doctor and then came over to stand by Kayla. He smiled at Jack’s baby, reached out and tickled his leg, and the baby allowed it.

  “This one’s not afraid of you. Lots of babies are scared of men. At least...” At least, they’d been afraid of Mitch.

  “Sammy’s been raised by his dad for the last six months,” Finn explained as they both watched the vet work with Winter. “He and his wife adopted him, but she passed away, so now he’s a single dad.”

  “Awww.” She swayed with the baby to keep him calm.

  “Jack is the only vet within thirty miles, so he has a busy practice. When his wife died and he had to care for Sammy full-time... It’s been rough.”

  “Day care?”

  “He’s got a part-time nanny, but apparently, she’s not working out.”

  The vet rose and walked over to them. “I’ll drive my van to the gate so we can get her into the clinic. If one of you wants to come along...”

  “I can,” Kayla said instantly. “I can take care of Sammy and help with the dog.”

  “No.” Finn frowned. “I’ll go.”

  “But—” She didn’t want to let the baby out of her arms.

  “I need you to finish up here,” he said abruptly.

  Jack gave them both a quizzical look. “Whatever you two decide. I’ll be right back with the van. Just make sure the dog stays still.”

  After he’d left, Kayla spoke up. “I just thought, since I’ve got the baby calmed down—”

  “I don’t want you going into town with Jack. People will make something of it.” His face was set.

  Kayla pressed her lips together. It was almost as if Finn felt possessive of her. Which didn’t make any sense.

  But it did feel familiar, and scarily so. Mitch had started out just a little possessive, but that had expanded until he got outraged if she had a conversation with a male cashier or said “thank you” to a guy holding open a door for her.

  Finn’s attitude was probably about something else. There was no reason a man like Finn should have any feelings at all about her, possessive or otherwise.

  But she needed to be careful, and stay alert, and not get too involved. Just in case Finn bore any similarity to Mitch.

  Chapter Six

  That Friday evening, Finn turned his truck into the road that led to Redemption Ranch with mixed feelings—mixed enough that he pulled over, telling himself he needed to check on Winter and her new foster puppy, crated in the back.

  Truth was, he wanted to get his head together before he got back to the ranch.

  The trip to pick up Winter from the vet clinic had been a welcome opportunity to escape from a work environment that had him in close proximity to Kayla for much of the day.

  He opened the back of the pickup and checked on the two dogs. Winter lay still, but with her head upright and alert. The young pup besi
de her had been a surprise, but so right that Finn had quickly agreed to take both back to the ranch.

  He took his time adjusting the crates and rubbing Winter’s head through the side bars, aware that he was just procrastinating on returning to the ranch and Kayla. He wanted to stay uninvolved, but he couldn’t seem to pull it off. When he’d seen Kayla holding that baby earlier in the week, he’d gotten gushy, romantic, old-movie feelings, until memories crashed in and washed them away in a sea of cold guilt. And then, just to top off his own ridiculousness, he’d gone caveman on her, refusing to allow her to go help Jack. Which was just plain stupid. Jack was single, and eligible, and deserving of happiness, and why wouldn’t he like Kayla, especially when she’d shown such tenderness toward his son?

  But before he’d had the sense to think that through, he’d gotten in Jack’s face, insisting that Kayla couldn’t go into town with Winter, that he, Finn, had to be the one to go himself.

  What was wrong with Finn, that he was acting like a Neanderthal around this woman whose personal life was absolutely none of his business?

  Possessive stuff. No matter what his brain said, his emotions wanted to mark her as his.

  It was almost like he wanted to be a husband and father again.

  Finn pushed the thoughts away by turning up the country music louder. And then was rewarded with songs about hurting love. He released a huff and started the truck again.

  He pulled up toward the kennel and tried not to look to the right, at Kayla’s place. But there were Penny and Willie, carrying a table from the next cabin down the road and into the yard in front of Kayla’s porch. He rolled down a window to see what was going on, and the smell of grilling meat sent his stomach rumbling.

  “Come on—join in,” Willie called, beckoning with his free arm.

  What could he do but pull over and stop the truck? The cessation of movement started Winter barking, so he had to get her out of the crate. And then the pup cried, so he had to be brought out, too.

  And that brought everyone running over to see.

  Finn knelt beside Winter and the fragile pup, trying to help them get their bearings. Trying to get his own, as well.

  Leo shouted and reached out, and the puppy cringed.

  “Careful!” Finn said.

  Only when Leo shrank back did Finn realize he’d boomed out the word too loudly.

  “You left with one and came back with two?” Penny asked, kneeling to see the dogs and, not coincidentally, putting herself at Leo’s height. She put a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “That’s not her pup, is it?”

  “It is now.” Finn couldn’t help but smile as the puppy yapped up at Winter and she gave him a chastening slurp of her tongue, knocking him into his place. Quickly, he explained how the unlikely pairing had come to pass.

  Willie was setting up horseshoes, and Long John sat in a chair, shucking corn. “Looks like a party,” Finn said, loud enough for the two older veterans to hear.

  “Cooking out. It’s Friday.” Willlie grinned. “Not that I’ve worked that hard all week, but habit is habit.”

  “Do you need a blanket for the dogs to rest on?” It was Kayla’s husky voice, and when he turned toward her, he saw that she already had one in hand. Of course, she’d seen the need and filled it, quietly and efficiently. That was who she was.

  They settled the dogs off to the side of the picnic table. “Why is there a pup, Mom?” Leo asked, pressing against Kayla’s side. “You said she had babies that died.”

  “I don’t know. Ask Mr. Gallagher.”

  But Leo pressed his lips together and stayed tight by Kayla’s side.

  Great. Finn had managed to spook the poor kid. “Winter wasn’t feeling well after her puppies didn’t make it,” he said, simplifying and cleaning it up for young ears. “And Dr. Jack had a pup at the clinic who didn’t have a mom.”

  “The Good Lord has a way of working things out,” Willie said. “Joy out of sorrow.” He gave Finn a meaningful look.

  Finn’s jaw tightened, because he knew what Willie was thinking. That Finn was supposed to find some kind of redemption out of the loss he’d faced.

  It wasn’t happening. Not now, not ever.

  “This corn’s ready to throw on the grill,” Long John called.

  “Chicken’s almost done,” Penny said.

  “Ooh, I’ve got to check on my apple cobbler.” Kayla hurried inside.

  Willie came over to where Finn stood. “You as hungry as I am?”

  Finn noticed Leo watching them. On an impulse, he clutched his hands across his abdomen and fake-fell to the ground. “Starving!” he groaned.

  Willie laughed and nudged Finn with his boot. “Get up, boy. Them that don’t work, don’t eat.”

  Finn jumped to his feet. By now, Leo was smiling, just a little. “I’ll do anything,” Finn said, “for apple cobbler.”

  “Then get inside and help her carry out the dishes, and make it snappy.” Willie rolled his eyes at Leo. “Think I’ll ever be able to make this big lug behave?”

  Leo laughed outright. “He’s a grown-up! He doesn’t have to behave.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Willie said. “Grown-ups have to behave even better than kids. Right, Finn?”

  “I’m going, I’m going.” He glanced over at Leo, who was still smiling. “Keep an eye on those dogs for me, will you?”

  “Yeah!” Leo hurried in their direction. Finn waited just long enough to see that the boy knelt carefully, not getting too close.

  “I’ll keep an eye, too,” Willie murmured to Finn. “Now, I’m serious. If you want dinner, you’d better help the lady get it on the table.”

  Finn reached Kayla’s small kitchen just in time to see her lift the cobbler out of the oven. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes bright, and he wondered how he’d ever thought her plain.

  She met his eyes, and it seemed to him her color heightened. “I... Dinner’s almost ready. I hope you’ll join us.”

  “I’d like to.” His playful mood from trying to jolly Leo up lingered, and he assumed a hangdog look. “But Willie told me I can’t unless I do my share of the work. Give me a job?”

  She chuckled, and the sound ran along his nerve endings. “There’s never a shortage. You can carry out the plates and silverware. Then come back, and I’ll have more for you to do.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He inhaled. “That smells fantastic.”

  “I have some talents.”

  “I can see that.”

  Their eyes locked for a moment, and Finn was sure he detected some sort of interest, not just casual, in hers. His own chest almost hurt with wanting to get closer to this woman. And he could barely remember why he’d thought that was a bad idea.

  She turned away from him, laughing a little. “Go on. Get to work.”

  So he carried out the flatware and plates, and then went back for several more loads. Penny called him into action to help at the grill, and then Willie remembered there was a fresh pitcher of lemonade down at his cabin. Long John offered to get it, going so far as to stand up, but Finn waved off the offer and walked down to get it. Limp or no, he was still more able-bodied than Long John.

  It felt like a party, but more than that, it felt like family. And Finn, whose relatives all lived back East, hadn’t had that sense in years.

  Two years, to be specific. Since Deirdre and Derek had died.

  But for the first time in a long time, that thought didn’t send him into darkness. He set it aside, because he wanted to focus on the here and now, just for a little bit longer.

  So they ate their fill of grilled chicken and corn on the cob, Long John’s famous coleslaw, and potato salad Penny had picked up from the deli in town. She’d gotten ice cream, too, so when the main meal was over, there was that for the cobbler.

  The dogs, Winter and the new pup as well as Sho
ney, went up and down the long table, begging. Finn couldn’t be sure, but he suspected that all the dogs had gotten a few scraps. Himself, he’d concentrated on sneaking food to Shoney, who couldn’t see the many crumbs and pieces that dropped to the ground.

  Finally, they’d all eaten their fill, and more. Leo asked to be excused and was soon rolling on the ground with the dogs. Penny started clearing dishes. When Finn stood to help, she waved him away. “Take it easy for a bit,” she said. “The kitchen’s only big enough for one. You, too, Kayla. Sit back and relax.”

  “No, I’ll wash and you can dry,” Kayla compromised.

  “Seems to me,” Willie said, his eyes twinkling, “that a boy of Leo’s age might like to play a little Frisbee or catch. But my old bones ache too much to do a game justice.” He looked at Finn. “How about you?”

  Finn hadn’t missed how Leo’s eyes lit up. “It’d be good to work off some of this fine food,” he said and glanced up at Kayla. “Okay with you?”

  “Of course, if he wants to.” She turned toward Leo and then shrugged. “Just ask him.”

  It was tacit permission for Finn to form his own relationship with Leo. And while he knew it wasn’t a good idea long-term, some lazy, relaxed, happy part of himself couldn’t worry about that just now.

  “Think I’ve got a couple of mitts and a softball down in my storage cupboard,” Willie said and started to get up.

  “I’ll get it if you tell me where.” This time, Finn took his cane, wanting to save his leg for the actual game of catch.

  And that was how Finn ended up teaching Leo how to throw like a pitcher and how to hold his mitt, while Willie and Long John relaxed in lawn chairs and offered advice.

  It felt like an unexpected blessing. Leo, who seemed at times timid as a mouse, was smiling and laughing and, to all appearances, enjoying himself enough that he didn’t seem to want to stop.

  Out here, tossing a softball back and forth as the sun sank behind the Sangre de Cristos, it was easy for Finn to focus on what was good in his life. This work that benefited other creatures, both human and canine, in a concrete way. This place, with its open spaces and views of the jagged mountain range that seemed to point the way directly to heaven. These people, who’d struggled enough in their lives to understand others rather than judge them.