I smiled despite my worry.
Me: She’d love it. Fair warning though—she’ll probably insist the horses are actually unicorns and try to make up her own rules.
Theo: Even better. How’s your day going?
I’m not sure why, but I hesitated before typing a reply.
Me: Mrs. Chen had to have emergency surgery today. I’m going to take care of Cuddles tonight.
Theo: Oh no! Is she okay? Do you want company? I could bring Debbie over—she loves Cuddles.
Something warm unfurled in my chest.
Of course, Theo would offer to help.
Of course, he’d think about how to make the situation better instead of just sending sympathy.
Me: That would actually be amazing. Cuddles might be less likely to eat me if Debbie’s there as a buffer.
Theo: Did you just say you want to use my five-year-old daughter as a human shield?
Me: Have you seen that beast? Fuck yes!
Theo: Ha. She’s a sweetheart. You’re just an overly muscled wuss.
Me: Um, thanks, I think.
Theo: (grin) We’ll be there. What time works?
Me: Seven? Traffic should’ve thinned out by then.
Theo: Perfect. Debbie will be so excited. She’s been asking when she can see Cuddles again. And you can come over for dinner after we get the rabid beast settled.
I put my phone away and headed to my next delivery, but the tightness in my chest wouldn’t ease. Mrs. Chen was going to be okay—she had to be. I found myself so lost in thought about the plight of that sweet old lady suffering alone in a hospital that I barely spared a thought for my own peril waiting behind a white picket fence.
The rest of my route passed in a blur of signatures and small talk.
By six-thirty, I was pulling up in front of Mrs. Chen’s house.
Thanks to the doggie door, Cuddles lay in her usual spot on the porch, a golden statue surveying her domain with the regal bearing of a fearsome queen who’d forgotten she was supposed to be cute and cuddly.
The moment I stepped out of my truck, her ears perked up and she sat at attention. Even from across the yard, I could see the recognition in her eyes—and the immediate shift from lazy observation to high alert that meant she was calculating the best angle of attack.
“Hey there, Cuddles,” I said softly, keeping my voice as calm and non-threatening as possible as I approached the gate. “I know this is weird, but your mom asked me to take care of you tonight. We’re going to figure this out together, okay?”
Cuddles watched me with the intensity of an eagle who’d just spotted a hare from hundreds of yards in the sky.
Her tail wasn’t wagging.
I reached for the gate latch, moving slowly and deliberately.
“I’m not here to hurt you, girl. I’m just here to make sure you’re fed and—”
The moment my hand touched the latch, Cuddles launched herself forward with a snarl that could have been heard three blocks away. Hell, they probably heard it on the Tennessee-Georgia border.
Teeth bared, ears flattened, she looked like every nightmare about aggressive dogs that had ever existed.
Thousands of years of evolutionary survival instincts screamed at me to step back, to put distance between myself and the one with very sharp teeth, but something made me hold my ground.
