by Dale Mayer
She nodded. “Yes.”
“It’s comfy,” he said. “I really like that. Coziness is something you miss when you don’t have a home base. This is a home, not just a house.”
“It is,” she said. “You’ll find your home base again.”
He nodded and sat on the couch at the far side from where she sat. “I will,” he said in agreement.
“Where are your dogs?”
“They’re all back at the house,” he said. He glanced at his watch. “After I have tea and get you something to eat, I’ll head out to look after them.”
“I don’t think I could eat anything,” she confessed. “My stomach is pretty queasy.”
He frowned and studied her face. “Headache?”
She shook her head, then shuddered as pain racked up and down her spine. “Okay, so there hadn’t been a headache,” she said starkly, “but that movement may have changed things.”
“How about just a little bit of soup and a piece of toast?”
She winced. “Honestly, I don’t think I could eat anything.” When he continued to frown at her, she smiled and said, “No point in adding food to a queasy stomach.”
“Unless it calms down the stomach and gives the painkiller something to work on,” he said. “I can make you a sandwich.”
She lay here, thinking about it, and then said, “Well, if you made one and left it on the coffee table, then I could have it when I am hungry.”
On that note he stood and walked the few steps into the kitchen. She could hear him puttering around, but, since he didn’t ask her any questions about what she wanted, she knew it would be whatever came her way. Not that she minded being looked after. It was a novelty she could get used to. She tucked a little deeper into the couch and let the painkillers work.
When she surfaced again, her house was empty. She straightened painfully and saw a note on the coffee table beside a platter of sandwiches. She laughed. “Unless he’s joining me, that’s way too many sandwiches,” she said out loud.
The dogs looked at her and wagged their tails.
“Oh, no you don’t,” she said with a smile. “Sandwiches are people food, not for dogs.”
She reached for the note to see it was from Ethan. She read it out loud. “I didn’t want to awaken you. Sandwiches until morning. I’ll call you later.”
She smiled, made her way to the bathroom, and, after she awkwardly washed her hands, she walked into the kitchen, awkwardly putting on the teakettle. What she really wanted was a cup of comforting tea to have with the sandwiches.
Cinn turned and checked the clock, surprised to see how late it was. She must have slept for several hours.
As she poured milk into her cup of tea, her phone rang. She carefully maneuvered the phone and the teacup out to the living room where she sat on the couch again. “Hello?”
“Hey, you’re awake. I was afraid to call earlier, in case I woke you up.”
She smiled. “I’m definitely awake. Thanks for the plate of sandwiches.”
“Have you eaten?”
“Just sitting down to a cup of tea and having my first bite.” She hesitated for a moment, then said, “You made enough for two. Are you coming back?”
“I wasn’t sure if you would go to bed and sleep for the night.”
“I’m thinking about it,” she said, “but maybe, once I get some food in me, I’ll be in decent shape for a little while.”
“In that case, I might pop by again.”
“I’ll save you a sandwich.”
She carefully placed the phone down and picked up a sandwich. It looked to be ham and cheese. At her first bite, she deemed it excellent. She lifted the corner of the bread to see what gave it the extra special flavor and found a touch of sauce. As she tasted it, she realized it was a mix of mustard, horseradish and mayonnaise. It was really good.
She settled back, happy to relax without crying out in pain. At the hospital, she’d been devastated by the shoulder injury. At the moment though, the painkiller was still taking off the edge, and it wasn’t too bad. Of course, if she jerked it or moved it too much, then that was a different story. But, in the sling like it was, she was doing quite well with one hand.
She sipped her tea and waited for Ethan to arrive.
Something about him just made them almost instant friends. It was a little disconcerting. She wasn’t the kind of person to step into a relationship as fast as she had stepped into this friendship. Was it a good thing? She trusted him, but she wasn’t sure that was smart. She really liked him as a person. It was obvious he had a big heart.
As the headlights turned off the highway and came down her long driveway, she watched uneasily, not sure if it was Ethan or somebody else.
Instinctively she wanted to get up and turn off all the lights in the living room, but it was too late. The truck was only two hundred yards away. Anybody coming down the highway would have caught sight of her well-lit house. With much relief, she watched Ethan hop out of his truck. When he went to lower the tailgate, and a dog hopped down, she thought he’d brought Bella with him.
No. This one was bigger. Darker fur but missing in spots. Scarred?
With the dog on a leash, which was a surprise, he approached the front door, knocked and then stepped in. Instantly her dogs went crazy. She tried to call them back, but they weren’t having anything to do with that. Finally Ethan made a sharp whistling sound, and both dogs glared at him, then came back to sit beside her.
She turned to look at the newcomer. It was not Bella. Cinn frowned and shifted back in the couch. “And who’s this?”
“His collar says Bart,” Ethan said quietly. “He’s one of the dogs I rescued from the drug center.”
At that, the shepherd swiveled his head to look at Ethan. Then tilted his head to the side.
“Hey, Bart. It will be okay, boy.”
The dog slowly lay down on the floor. She wasn’t sure he understood what had happened to him, but he was understanding something, … an absence of abuse probably. “So there were two females and two males, including Sally?”
“Appears to be, yes.”
She couldn’t take her eyes off the new arrival. The dog didn’t scare her, but a calculating look in his eye made her ever-so-slightly worried. She was used to dogs, but these dogs Ethan kept bringing by were not the kind that made her comfortable to be around. They didn’t laze about on the floor like any normal dog.
Bart tracked her movements as if she had something he wanted. And then she realized she was holding a sandwich. In fact, she really did have something he wanted. She carefully replaced the sandwich on the plate, watching as the dog tracked her hand movements there. She grinned. “Did you feed him?”
“Oh, he’s been fed,” Ethan said. He walked forward, ordering the dog to heel. The dog fell into step behind him.
Surprised, she looked at Ethan, at the dog, and then back at Ethan again. “They’re very well trained.”
“They are very well trained. I just don’t know the extent of their training or their loyalty,” he said. “I’m still figuring that out.”
“I’m not sure how you would do that.”
“I’m putting them through their paces. But it’s taking some time. I’m working with them one-on-one, so I hope it’s okay that I brought this guy.” He walked over to the easy chair and sat himself down with Bart at his side. But Bart kept his eyes on the sandwiches.
“Sure.” She motioned at the platter and said, “Help yourself.”
He leaned forward, picked up a sandwich, and, as he pulled it toward him, Bart made a snap toward it. Instantly Ethan corrected him on it and had the dog lay down until he was calm.
She watched in fascination. Ethan did everything in a controlled, ready manner, as if he was expecting it. “You knew he would lunge for that, didn’t you?”
“They were given just enough mistreatment that I figured he had to fight for what he wanted, especially food. A sandwich is an easy test.”
“How
do you deal with that?”
“He just needs to be corrected every time he steps out of line,” Ethan said.
She nodded and continued to watch as Bart tracked the sandwich. With every bite it seemed like Ethan made exaggerated hand movements, moving the sandwich out to where it was obviously visible to the dog; then he would pick it up in a slow motion and take a bite. “Are you teasing him?”
“No,” Ethan said. “I’m giving him lots of chances to go for it again.”
“He seems to have learned quickly,” she said when Bart made no move for the sandwich.
Ethan nodded. “If we were past this kind of training, then I could give him the last bite. But, as it is, I won’t take that chance. It’s pretty easy to ruin a good dog’s training with treats.”
She glanced at her two dogs and shrugged. “Mine are spoiled, not that they don’t have some training, as they do, but I tend to get lax. Still, they aren’t that bad.”
“Most dogs are spoiled,” Ethan said. “But there’s spoiling, and then there’s training. You don’t dare mix the two.”
She wasn’t sure she agreed with that, but he was the one dealing with dangerous dogs. She had gentle house pets. She reached for the rest of her sandwich, and Bart’s head turned to track her hand. A little unnerved, she settled back and took a bite. “He’s not taking his gaze off me.”
Ethan nodded and gave a small self-correction on Bart’s leash, and Bart turned his gaze toward Ethan.
She was stunned. “He really is well trained.”
“He is,” Ethan confirmed. “Almost too well trained. My dogs in the military were this way. Makes me wonder if they’ve ever had any downtime or playtime. Like people, you can’t work all day without repercussions.”
She ate quietly for several long moments, studying the dog. “I don’t get a sense of animosity from him.”
“No,” Ethan said quietly. “Attentiveness. He’s unsure. He’s unsure of me. He’s unsure of you.”
She smiled. “And maybe that’s a good thing.”
He reached for another sandwich. His phone rang just then. Instead of picking up another sandwich, he pulled his phone from his pocket.
She listened quietly while he answered.
It was Gunner. It was obvious from the conversation that Gunner had heard about today’s events. Ethan looked at her and said, “I’m with her right now, and she’s fine. I have one of the dogs with me too.”
She could hear an exclamation coming out of the phone.
He just chuckled. “It’s fine, Gunner. I know what I’m doing.”
They spoke for a few more moments, and he pocketed the phone.
“I gather news traveled fast?”
Ethan nodded, took the sandwich and scarfed it down in several bites. He looked at her and said, “You should be heading to bed soon.”
She wanted to shrug, a movement she was only now realizing how often she did by the pain that poked her every time. “I will, after time for the next painkillers.” She checked her watch and made a face. “Essentially that’s now.”
“Do you need help getting undressed?”
She frowned, sat up and thought about it. “No, I think I’m fine. I won’t attempt to shower tonight.”
“If you want to in the morning, I can come by and change the dressing.”
“I think I’m supposed to leave it for a day and then go into the clinic and have them take a look at it.”
He nodded and stayed quiet. Finally he stood, ordered the dog to walk with him and said, “Call me in the morning. If you hear anything around the place tonight, you let me know.”
She turned to him, accidentally jerking her shoulder. She cried out and clapped a hand on her injury. After a few moments of deep breathing, the greasy waves of pain settled down into her stomach. “Why would you even say that?”
He stared at her with a steady gaze. “You’re the one who got shot. And we never did track down the truck.”
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit. I forgot about that truck.”
“And maybe you should keep forgetting about it,” he said. “Enough has gone on today. I doubt any more danger is coming your direction.”
“But you don’t know that, do you?”
He tilted his head to the side and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you worried?”
She chewed on her bottom lip as she considered the question. “I wasn’t until you brought it up.”
“As soon as you lay down, that truck would have popped back into your mind,” he said.
She groaned. “Yes, you’re right. It would have.” She walked carefully to the window and stared up at the highway. She pointed where she’d seen the truck. Of course it wasn’t there. “I didn’t see it close up, so I couldn’t give you details about the driver. It seems like it was the same truck that was back later in the day.”
He stood, frowning, thinking for a long moment. “If you want, I can go home, grab a few things, work with the dogs a little bit and then come back. I don’t want to be away from the animals too long.”
“Not necessary.” She smiled. “I’ll be fine.”
But he wasn’t convinced. “I don’t like the idea of leaving you here alone.”
“It’s what we have to do,” she said, “because I’m sure as hell not coming to your house. So I’ll stay here. You stay there, and it’ll be fine.”
He thought about it for a moment and said, “I’ll come back and check on you tonight.”
“I’ll be asleep,” she warned. “Don’t wake me up.”
He grinned. “You’ll never know I was here.”
“If you come into my house, I sure as hell better,” she said, “because that would really freak me out. I don’t want to wake up with you wandering through my house, scaring the bejesus out of me.”
He watched as she headed to the stairs. “I’ll take a walk around and check your security.”
She made a face at him as she stepped up on the fourth and then the fifth step. “Now you’re really scaring me.”
“Go take your painkillers, get ready for bed. Have a good night’s sleep. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
With that, she had to be satisfied. She trusted him. No point in second-guessing herself now. He’d been there for her so far. She wasn’t about to let nerves change anything. She still had her dogs. They might not be trained guard dogs, but they were great early warning systems.
Upstairs she could hear him walking through the house. She took off her jeans, leaving on her yoga top, and managed to pull on a clean T-shirt. She did a quick job with a toothbrush, a face wash, and then gratefully sagged into her bed. She took her painkillers and turned out the light. One of the dogs hopped up on the bed beside her, and the other lay on the floor. She didn’t hear another sound. She just closed her eyes, rolled over and fell asleep.
Ethan checked over the security on her house. There was only one word to call it—dismal. He didn’t like the look of any of it. He pulled a couple windows closed. That would not stop a professional break-in, but it would stop most people. He checked the back door and realized it, too, was Mickey Mouse. He propped up a kitchen chair under the door handle. If nothing else, she’d wake up and would have a chance to escape, if she heard a commotion downstairs.
After doing the best he could, he walked out the front door, locking it shut behind him, and stood on the step for a long moment.
Bart stood at his side, never making a sound, but matched his step pace for pace. He reached out a hand and held it in front of Bart’s nose. Bart sniffed it several times, then stared at him. He eased a hand on Bart’s forehead, feeling the dog tense at the contact. “It’s all right, boy. Your days of being abused are over,” he said gently.
He didn’t know if the dog understood or not, but he’d like to think that the tone of his voice and his reassuring hand giving pleasure and not pain would go a long way to helping the dog understand. They stood like that for a long moment, as Ethan gently scratched the dog behind the ears and then
down the neck.
It would be a long time before he could clip their claws or take the matted hair off their coats. But he’d take every step in the right direction he could. He motioned toward the truck, and the dog hopped into the bed on his own. Ethan closed the tailgate, got into the driver’s side, reversed the truck and headed up to the highway.
Once there he parked and got out with the dog and took a look to see if he could spot any tracks. Darkness was settling in, and he had to use the flashlight on his cell phone to check.
There were definitely tracks. The problem was, there were too many of them. Giving up that idea, he hopped back into the truck, allowing the dog in the front of the cab this time. The dog walked over to the far passenger side and stared out the window, but he obediently sat while Ethan drove back to the house.
He didn’t like leaving Cinn alone. He figured he’d give himself a couple hours to sleep and then do a quick sweep again of her property, making sure all was well. This way he could change the dogs out at the same time.
Back at his rental house, Ethan let Bart into the house and proceeded to dish out dog food for all four of them. He had Sally segregated. She needed a lot more care.
He still wasn’t sure what the relationship was between them. He had her in a spare bedroom down on the main floor. With food in his hand, he walked in, keeping the door closed behind him, and gently checked her dressings. Her tail wagged when she saw him. He crouched in front of her and gently stroked her head. He helped her to straighten up slightly so she could eat. Once she plowed into her food, he realized she was definitely improving.
Nothing like seeing a growing appetite in an injured dog to realize she was well on her way to mending. He sat with her for a long moment.
A dog barked outside the door to the spare room. Opening it, Ethan found Bart looking up at him expectantly. Ethan put a leash on him, then let him inside the room, so he could meet Sally. Her tail went crazy, and she whimpered. The two dogs brushed their noses back and forth. Bart stuck his head into her food and had a few bites, and she didn’t seem to care. But then he wanted to sniff her all over. The problem was, she was ill and definitely had that medicine-sick smell. But Bart didn’t seem to mind. As soon as he was done sniffing, he found a corner of the blanket and lay down beside her.
