Even when it was time, we had no idea the risk was there, lurking like a dark shadow, waiting to destroy it all.
Cardiomyopathy. The doctors said later it was a preexisting condition she probably never even knew about. Her body had never been under the stress of pregnancy, labor, and delivery.
All that planning, all that nesting. She’d preparedeverything, and in that one night, it was all over. She gave us Maddie, and then she gave her life.
I’ll never forget standing beside her coffin in the rain. A shiny mahogany box sitting on brass rails holding all my dreams for the future, for a family. I tried to be strong, but it broke me.
Dad was at my side, his hand on my shoulder. Britt was there as well, holding my infant daughter.
Heather put her small hand in mine, leaning her head on my arm and openly crying. She was only fourteen, and it was the first time she’d lost a close family member.
I’d lost my own mother when I was a little boy. I barely remember her now, but at least I have flashes of things, scents and colors, and I have pictures of her holding me.
Maddie has none of that. She’ll never know her mom or how much she loved her. She’ll never know how much it cost to give her life.
Rubbing my fingers over my eyes, I push against these dark memories. They’re still so vivid in my mind, and for so long, I’ve used them as a shield.
The years roll slowly past, and it’s still hard to believe sometimes. Maybe it always will be. I don’t know.
What I do know is I have to do all I can to keep us safe. No matter how pretty Gina Bradford might be, I can’t risk Maddie’s heart. Or mine.
“You should train her to use a crate.” Gina cuts through my musings, leaning over to scrub her fingers in Ladybird’s thick hide.
My dog perks up at her affection, lifting her nose and thumping her tail against the wooden patio.
Gavin Knight, my other teammate, sits beside me with his infant daughter asleep on his chest. I smile in spite ofmyself, remembering how I did the same with Maddie when she was a baby.
It was just the two of us, and I’d read all the books about skin-to-skin contact and bonding. I’d hold her every chance I got, doing my best to keep her happy and secure in my arms.
“Can you crate train a grown dog?” Their cousin Haddy walks out to join us, carrying bowls of sour cream and salsa.
She places them on the serving table along with soft tortillas and lettuce.
Maverick opens the grill, and the delicious scent of spiced meat fills the air. He’s making grilled chicken with habanero black beans, and Gavin warned me our teammate has a flair for spicy food.
Gavin and Haddy lived here before they got engaged, had a baby, and moved into the house across the street. Still, they’re here most of the time.
“You can definitely crate train her,” Gigi replies. “It might even go quicker since she’s older. Unless she had a negative experience with crates?”
She turns her green eyes on me, and for a second, I’m caught off guard.
They sparkle with interest, and they remind me of my stepmom Britt’s green eyes. Britt was always loving and encouraging to me, and Gina’s sweet gaze strangely makes me feel at home.
Clearing my throat of those thoughts, I reach down to pat the top of Ladybird’s head. She and Spanky are facing each other with their tongues hanging out, almost like they’re smiling at each other.
“I don’t know about crate training,” I answer slowly. “Isn’t that like putting her in a cage?”
“It doesn’t have to be,” Gigi says. “Spanky prefers a wirecrate because it’s bigger, and he has more room to stretch out. Plastic kennels have more of a den feel, but they’re also smaller.”
“I don’t know if I like the idea of caging Ladybird.” I do my best to keep my tone easy, not confrontational. “It seems… cruel.”
“That’s a very common misconception.” Gigi’s eyebrows rise as she nods, and I get the feeling she’s had this conversation before. “But studies show crate training is very beneficial in helping dogs cope with stress. It gives them a place to go if they’re afraid, and if she has to have medical treatments she’ll be prepared.”
“So a cage is a good thing?” I give her a teasing wink, and her mouth falls open.
She blinks at me a moment, almost like she lost her train of thought, then she clears her throat, shaking her head.
“Yes, actually.” She shifts in her seat. “Think of it like a crib for babies, or her own room if she were a child.”
