Ethan

by Dale Mayer

  “That is often how it is,” she admitted. “If the dogs are a problem, they take them out.”

  “Exactly,” he said. “So I stepped in. Now the question is whether I can make them do the job they need to do and have a decent life or whether I’ll have to make a difficult decision down the road and put them down myself.”

  She winced. “Ouch.”

  “No,” he said. “That would be almost impossible for me to do.”

  She smiled. “So when do I get to meet them?”

  “Not for several days,” Ethan said quietly. “As much as I would like to think they would allow strangers into their space, for the first few days, if not a week, it will need to be just them and me.”

  “That makes sense,” she said lightly. What did she expect? It wasn’t like the dogs would accept Ethan into their world easily, and they sure as hell wouldn’t accept her, a complete stranger, either. “Can you add the injured shepherd to this group?”

  “I think she was part of this group to begin with. I’m pretty sure she belongs with them,” he said. “I have to see what kind of reaction I get when I reintroduce her. She’s still weak and needs care for quite a while. If the other dogs won’t accept her, I can’t keep them together.”

  She winced. “If those dogs are vicious to Sally …”

  “I know,” he said. “Which is why it needs to be just us for a while.”

  She nodded and smiled.

  “Any sign of that truck again?”

  Startled she remembered the truck she’d seen up on the highway. “I never did see it again. I’m taking a look now.” She walked over to the window but saw no sign of anything. “I think I was just being supersensitive,” she said. “With you going after this group, I don’t know, I guess for some reason it made me nervous.”

  “Of course it did,” he said in reassurance. “That’s normal, and it’s not an issue. I’m glad you at least thought to let me know it was there.”

  “Why?” She laughed. “It’s not like you were close enough to do anything about it.”

  “That’s true,” he said. “But I could have been there within a few minutes, and I would have called somebody closer to help.”

  She smiled. “Well, if I see it again, I’ll let you know.”

  “Let me know if you see anything odd again,” he urged. “Just because the raid went off successfully doesn’t mean the police got everyone.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “I really needed to think like that.”

  “Yes, you do,” he said as if not understanding her sarcasm. “One should always be aware.”

  Sure enough, as soon as she clicked off her phone, instead of feeling better about what he’d said, the reminder that the truck had been there on the highway made her feel worse.

  She needed an outlet for her nervous energy, so she changed into her running gear. With the dogs barking happily at her side, she grabbed a water bottle and headed out the back door. It was late in the afternoon, almost evening, and the worst heat had started to settle back.

  She opened up the back gate to the state land and took off at a fast run. With the dogs running happily at her side, she crisscrossed over the terrain, checking out some of her favorite spots, shaking off the tension of the day and her added worries about Ethan. She hadn’t realized just how much she had been focused on Ethan. You had to love a man who would go in after the dogs.

  But she wasn’t sure his particular project would be worth his time and trouble. And that felt awful coming from her. After all, she loved animals, and she spent so much of her time trying to save animals in need. What was it about these particular ones that scared her? Of course it was the viciousness to them. But, if Ethan could tame them, or at least keep them as well-controlled animals, then she was all for it. It would also likely keep him close by, and that made her happy.

  She had no business looking at a relationship with somebody who was such a loner, someone without roots, especially when she was such a homebody. She did take trips around the world for these animals, but so much of it nowadays was communication on the Internet and phone. It was easier to send photos and vet reports back and forth than to fly over and look at the animals.

  With the sun going behind the clouds, she dashed into the trees. Racing through them, her heart felt lighter with every step she took. Such interesting weather, a day full of light and shadows, not hot, not cold. By the time she burst through the other side, she was sprinting all-out. She could feel the tension inside desperately needing the outlet. Her feet pounded the ground as she ran faster and farther.

  And then her energy seemed to wane, and she slowed her steps, laughing, and stumbled.

  Crack.

  She cried out as her shoulder exploded with pain, and she fell to the ground. She instinctively reached a hand to her shoulder and rolled over. Panic set in, but she was a good ten or twelve feet from the next set of trees. She pulled her hand away, seeing the blood pumping sluggishly from the wound.

  She’d been shot!

  She pulled out her cell phone while she lay here, panicked somebody would come closer for a killing shot, and dialed Ethan’s phone. The dogs whimpered at her side, unsure of what happened but knowing something had.

  “I’ve been shot,” she said baldly. “I’m about two miles from the house, on the state land behind my place. Parallel to the highway. There’s a large wooded area. I’ve gone through that, and I’m on the field between it and the next set of woods.”

  “I’m on my way,” he said, his voice unnaturally calm. “How bad is the wound? Did you call 9-1-1?”

  “Not arterial and, no, not yet. I called you and will call Flynn next.” Her voice was shaky. “It’s in the shoulder.”

  “I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he repeated.

  “I want to run for the trees and try to hide.” She peered through the long grass. “But I’m worried about taking a second hit.”

  “Can you see anyone?” he asked, his voice sharp.

  In the background she heard Ethan slam a door, then turn on the engine. He was already on his way. Thank God. “Where are you? How long until you get here?”

  “Make that eight.” His voice was even and controlled. “Put pressure on that wound. And you stay alive until I get there. Do you hear me?”

  She groaned, tears pouring down her face as the pain really set in. “I’m not planning on going anywhere. But I’m a sitting duck, if somebody comes after me.”

  “Don’t move around,” he cautioned. “Just lie there and don’t make a sound. There’s a good chance they’ll assume they caught you with the first shot.”

  “And the dogs? They’re milling around me.”

  “Can you get them to lie down? That’s a common behavior for a dog, or at least have them sit at your side as they wait for help to come.”

  She instructed both dogs to sit and lie down beside her. Whining, their noses nestling against her, they obeyed. “Is it common for dogs to stay here like this?”

  “Yes. They won’t leave an injured owner.”

  “What about a dead one?” she whispered, trying to keep her tone light as panic threatened to choke her and as her heart slammed to get out of her chest. “I keep thinking somebody’s coming toward me.”

  “Watch the dogs for that kind of a reaction,” he said quietly. “I’m already on the highway.”

  “Good.” Her voice was still shaky, the tears easily sounding in her tone. “The dogs are sitting here, whining, but they don’t act like anybody’s around.”

  “Good. Don’t run for the trees because that will let somebody know you’re still alive.”

  “Hopefully you’ll see them before I will,” she joked. “If you’re coming from the opposite direction as the vet’s, it should only be minutes after that bad corner until you see the first copse of trees.”

  “Can you give me any better directions as to where you are?”

  She tried explaining where the turnoff was to one of the side streets and that she was jus
t past it. She gasped from the effort, lying quiet for a moment, then she continued, “When you get to Cotton Road Drive, I’m probably another fifty to one hundred yards past the trees right there at that turnoff.”

  “Coming up to the turnoff now.”

  “The shot came from that direction.”

  “Good. I’m pulling over here. You stay where you are. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  She wanted to look around to search for him, but she couldn’t hear any sound of a truck engine. The traffic should be audible from where she was, but she heard nothing. She held the palm of her hand flat against her wound, part of her T-shirt balled up against it, trying to press down hard on it. She stared at the cloudy sky and focused on breathing deeply.

  But surely they’d know if they caught her in the shoulder, not in the head.

  This was a shitty end to a rough day. She had to think it was related to Ethan because nobody out here hated her. At least she didn’t think so. She hadn’t spent a lifetime creating enemies. She was one of those charity workers, and few people even knew where she lived.

  She took several more deep breaths, trying to force back that panicked edge. The pain, if she thought about it, was crippling. To calm down she made a quick call to Flynn. He swore and demanded answers. “Can’t talk,” she said. “Just come.” And she hung up.

  Her ears were on overdrive for any sound, good or bad, coming toward her. But Ethan was right about one thing: watch the dogs. They were both relaxed but worried. Their noses pushed eagerly into her hand as she tried to calm them. But they weren’t growling or jumping to their feet or racing toward anyone or away from anything. So, as far as she could tell, nobody was out here.

  And then a dog barked. She twisted but couldn’t see anything for the tall grass around her.

  Soon she heard a high-pitched sound and a man’s hard voice snapping orders. She couldn’t confirm if that was Ethan or not. She wanted to sit up but knew she shouldn’t.

  Then a whistle, several barks and another whistle. And she now realized what she’d heard. Ethan. He’d come with one of the new dogs. She frowned. “Is that a good idea, Ethan?”

  She slid to a half-sitting position, holding her shoulder, and she could see him at the tree line, and the dog was free, tracking somebody.

  She could hear shouting, as if somebody else was countering the orders.

  Another shot was fired and then another. She flattened against the ground, grateful none were directed at her. But had the dog been shot? Ethan?

  What the hell had Ethan done? What the hell had she gotten into?

  She waited with bated breath as she tried to understand what else was going on. The dogs were no longer lying at her side but stood, studying the area, barking at the other dog, easily giving away Cinn’s position. So who would find her first?

  And then, in her heart and mind, she knew there was no competition. It would be Ethan all the way. And suddenly she heard footsteps coming toward her. She froze. Her dogs growled. And then a strange dog barked and raced toward her. It loomed over her, and she curled protectively into a ball, until she heard Ethan issue a command. Immediately its butt hit the ground, and its nose went out, ears up.

  She let out her pent-up breath as she watched this huge shepherd stare down at her. It wasn’t growling at her; it wasn’t attacking her. It was as if giving a command to its owner, saying, I found her.

  And suddenly there was Ethan.

  She burst into tears. She would have thrown her arms around him, but her shoulder was killing her. He crouched at her side and stroked her face gently.

  “It’s all right. You’re safe.”

  He pulled her hand off her shoulder. “Let me take a look.” Then he nodded. “It could be much worse.” He eased her into a sitting position and checked the back of her shoulder. “It went through, and that’s good.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know how you can think that’s good. I’ve been shot.”

  “Yes, you have,” he said and, taking out his pocketknife, dug something out of the dirt behind her. Then he exchanged the knife for a sheet of paper from his notepad in his pocket and pulled up the slug.

  She stared at it. “I really was shot?” she said in disbelief. It was one thing to assume she’d been shot; it was another thing to see the proof in his hand. She glanced around. “How do you know it’s safe? Is he gone?”

  “He’s gone,” Ethan said.

  “Gone? I heard more shooting.”

  Ethan nodded. “He tried to countermand the dog. This, by the way, is Bella.”

  She looked at the shepherd, still in her position, not having been released from the command given. “Is she safe?” Cinn asked tentatively. “She’s pretty ferocious looking.”

  “The big collar doesn’t help, but it does give her name,” he said. He turned to Bella and gave her a hand signal and said, “Relax.”

  Bella, her tail wagging, leaned over and sniffed Cinn. She reached up a tentative hand. Bella placed her nose in her hand and nudged it.

  Cinn smiled and scratched Bella’s head. “Did she find me?”

  “Yes, she did. Not that you would have been hard to find with the other dogs here.”

  Both her dogs milled around Bella. The three were getting to know each other. Bella showed no signs of aggression. “How did you know she was the one you should bring?” Cinn asked, dazed. “That was taking a hell of a chance.”

  “The only chance I took was if your shooter might have had better control over Bella. But I don’t think she has any loyalty to the abusive men who kept her before.”

  “How sad is that?” Cinn murmured. “You didn’t explain what the shots were I heard.”

  “He tried to shoot her,” Ethan said quietly. “But Bella dodged and managed to miss the bullets, and, when he realized she was still coming after him, and then he saw me too, he turned the gun on himself.”

  “What?” Her jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

  Grim-faced, Ethan nodded. “I’m serious. We need to get the cops here now, before anybody else finds out what’s happened.”

  He helped her stand, then led her to a large rock to sit down. He called Bella over and ordered her to guard. She stood, facing out to the world around her, her attention focused around them.

  Cinn, who had a lot of experience with dogs, but none with actual working dogs of this nature, watched in amazement as Bella appeared to keep a close eye on everything going on. “What happens if I get up and walk away?”

  Ethan chuckled. “Well, I guess we’ll find out if you try it, won’t we?”

  She frowned up at him. “That’s not funny.”

  But he was already calling somebody on his phone.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “The team I joined on the raid this morning.”

  He walked away a few steps to have his conversation. She heard bits and pieces, enough to know he was explaining the circumstances.

  She reached down to pet her beautiful dogs, giving them each a cuddle. They were not Bella by any means. They were nervous and worried and staying very close. Yet they weren’t intimidated by Bella. On the contrary, they were doing their best to make friends. But Bella would have nothing to do with it. She was on guard, and the dogs were completely not there as far as she was concerned. It was fascinating to watch. And, if Cinn hadn’t been in so much damn pain, she’d have appreciated it a whole lot more.

  When Ethan turned to look at her, putting away his phone, she asked, “How long?”

  “He figures about thirty minutes. He’ll get here faster if he can. He wanted to know if you wanted an ambulance.”

  She shook her head. “Hell no.”

  “You still have to go to the hospital and get stitched up.” He stood with his legs slightly apart, his hands fisted on his hips, as if ready for a fight.

  She nodded. “I know. But no reason you can’t drive me there.” She glanced at her shoulder and said, “Hell, I can probably drive myself. It’s my left shoul
der.”

  “No, you’re not driving yourself,” he stated firmly. “Of course I can drive you. I told him that you wouldn’t want an ambulance because you’d try to drive yourself.”

  She went quiet. “You don’t know me well enough to be sure I’d react that way,” she said but realized she was arguing futilely over nothing. The pain had kicked in heavily.

  He picked up her water bottle and handed it to her. When she tried to unscrew the top, he pulled it back, unscrewed the top for her and held it out again.

  She took a long drink. “That feels better,” she whispered. “You don’t know just how rough things are until you realize you’re arguing over nothing, and it’s all you can do to sit upright.”

  He crouched at her side and checked her over. “Did you hit your head when you went down?” he asked, his fingers gently searching her temple and the back of her head.

  “No,” she said, closing her eyes and leaning into the gentle massage. “But that does feel good.”

  His fingers deepened the pressure slightly, moving down her neck, then to her good shoulder and back. “If that’s the only wound, we’ll put this down to pain and shock,” he said. “Not to mention you were probably running flat-out before you were struck, so you’re dealing with exertion and probably a lack of water at the same time.”

  On that note, she drank most of the rest of her bottle, then handed it back to him. “I’m worried about the dogs too.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want to leave them alone when I go to the hospital.”

  “You leave them alone all the time, don’t you?”

  “I do, but they’re pretty upset right now.” She turned to look at her three-legged dog. He lay right beside Bella. She smiled. “It’s almost as if he’s decided Bella will protect him too.”

  “Animals know who and what they all are. They won’t argue with Bella.”

  “But you haven’t explained how you knew Bella was safe to bring.”

  “I was out back working with them, and, when I issued orders, Bella followed them instantly. She hasn’t been at that place very long, and, wherever she came from, she was well trained. A couple commands she didn’t know because they’re very unique to the military work I did. But she’s certainly been trained as a guard dog. And as an attack dog.”