ANDY GLANCED OVER AT THE dog curled up in the passenger seat beside her. He watched her, his dark-brown eyes glued to her face as if he was afraid if he closed them, she’d disappear. He’d been doing that since she came back with the woman with the paw print smock to spring him from jail. The woman had clipped the leash onto the dog’s collar and handed it to Andy all without stating the obvious—the dog she was walking out with was not the dog she’d come in for. This one wouldn’t guard anything but ankles and she couldn’t even be sure about that. Hell, she was going to have to make sure he stayed close to the house so she didn’t have to protecthimfrom the coyotes.
“You can relax, you know,” she said, dividing her attention between the dog and the road. “We’re stuck with each other now.”
Keeping one hand on the wheel, she reached over to stroke the dog’s soft ear. He leaned into her touch, stitching them closer together. When she took her hand away so she could signal the turn into the parking lot at the farm supply store, he let out a whimper that tightened the bonds. She could get used to someone who wanted to be with her without needing anything other than her love in return. Someone who didn’t ask questions or care about her past or why she did what she did. Even if that someone was a short little dog who needed a boost to get into her truck and was willing to trade his affection for food. The arrangement worked for her. She’d even let him sleep with her the first night.
“You’re going to need a bath.”
She put the truck in park and glanced over to see him watching her again. She was projecting—she knew she was—but she couldn’t help but think some of the apprehension in his expression had shifted to eagerness. Leaving him in the truck while she went inside to get his food felt unnecessarily cruel, not when he’d been left before by people who were supposed to love him. His previous owners turned him in at the pound citing “life changes” as the reason, despite insisting he was good with both children and other animals.
She hoped life changes meant someone was dying and not he just became too inconvenient. Either way, she couldn’t stand the idea of the little guy being led away from an owner he probably loved and locked in the kennel without any idea what he’d done wrong or if his person was ever coming back.
“Don’t worry,” she said, dragging him across the bench seat and into her arms. She squeezed his barrel-shaped body against her, ignoring the odor of disinfectant and too many dogs that clung to his short fur. “I’m not going to leave you.”
He wiggled in her arms, getting into the spirit of things, and planting his paws on her shoulders so he could lick her face. Making a spur-of-the-moment decision, she pressed a kiss to the top of his head before nudging him gently off her lap. He whined in protest until she put the truck in gear and started moving again. She pulled up to the loading dock on the side of the building, rolled down her window and waited for one of the guys who worked out back to come help her.
“Hey, Andy, got your ticket?” asked Kyle, holding out his hand for the sales ticket she didn’t have.
“Actually, I was hoping you could do me a favor.”
She hit Kyle with her best smile. He was attractive in a rugged, slightly redneck kind of way—like a country-western song come to life. He’d been flirting with her for as long as she’d been coming there. In the beginning his attention seemed hopeful, but after time when it became clear the fresh meat in town wasn’t interested in dating, it had slipped into something more comfortable. Friendly. She just hoped he liked her as much as she thought he did.
“Sure. What do you need?” He sounded more wary than certain but he leaned an arm on her open window and didn’t say no.
Hopefully, he was imagining something bigger than what she was going to ask him for, making it easier for him to say yes. Before she could make her request, the dog let out a growl low in his throat.
“Hey, knock it off,” she said, scowling at him.
He’d wedged his furry little body against the passenger side door, as far away from Kyle as he could get. Instead of cowering, he had his gaze locked on the man as if he were anticipating his next move. One that might include teeth.
“Easy, killer.” She reached across the seat, offering the dog her hand. He licked her fingers and stopped growling, but she could still feel the tension vibrating through his small body. “He’s actually the reason for the favor.” Kyle had taken his arm off her truck and stepped back. She smiled at him again, hoping she looked friendly and not crazy but willing to play it either way if it got her where she needed to be. “I need food for Cujo here and I don’t want to leave him alone in the truck. We’re on our way home from the pound and as you can see, he’s a little worked up.” She pulled her hand away from the dog, who let out a noise somewhere between a howl and a growl. “I’m afraid if I leave him alone, he’ll tear up my truck,” she said, going for currency Kyle would understand. “Could you call the register and ask them to charge a fifty-pound bag of dog food to my account so I don’t have to go inside? Please?”
“They hate it when I do that,” he said, still not saying no.
She understood. If everyone started to bypass the counter and signing for purchases, things were bound to get missed.
“It’s just this one time. I promise.” As if on cue, the dog let out another whine-growl and she saw Kyle make up his mind.
“Just this once,” he said, reaching for the radio clipped to his belt.
––––––––
“YOU KNOW IF this farming thing doesn’t work out, we could take to the road,” Andy said when they were back on their way to Sourwood, a bag of dog food on the bed of the truck. “Maybe make our way as grifters or something. Your timing’s perfect.”
The dog sat on his side of the seat, panting happily now that the threat of the feed salesman was gone. It was funny. He hadn’t shown any sign of aggressiveness toward her and nothing at the pound. The woman who’d helped her with his adoption made a special point to mention he was good with cats and other animals. She’d certainly have mentioned it if he had aggressive tendencies. The poor guy had a long day. He must be stressed. As if to reinforce her thoughts, he plopped his head down on his paws, letting his eyes drift shut for a moment before opening them again to make sure she was still there. When they drifted shut the next time, they stayed closed longer.
Something about Kyle must have rubbed the furry guy the wrong way. He’d finally given in to sleep, and at the moment, the only thing vicious about him was the snoring. Hustling was too close to her old life anyway. She’d stick with farming for as long as the money held out, which, unless she went out of her way to make stupid decisions, would be a very long time. The substantial fortune she’d amassed working at Bench and Stern never really felt like hers. And after Millie and her husband, it felt like blood money. She hadn’t forgiven herself for the things she’d done and doubted she ever would. That wasn’t her goal, but if she could do some good for other people while she was around, maybe she could atone. She had things set up in a trust so the farm would keep going long after she was gone.
She made the turn onto the gravel lane leading to the farm’s entrance and the etched metal sign with a spray of almost lily of the valley-like flowers that read Sourwood Farm. Over the years, her feelings about the place had shifted from guilt and apprehension to a sense of home. Despite her hair shirt intentions. Driving past the sign and down the lane to the old farmhouse filled her with a peace she didn’t deserve but one she cherished nonetheless.
“Come on, baby. We’re home.” She put the truck in park and hurried around to the passenger’s side so the dog wouldn’t think she’d left him. Scooping up his warm, wriggling body, she gave him a squeeze and planted a kiss on the top of his soft, furry head before setting him on the ground. She stood and turned, gasping when she came face-to-face with Liam.
“Who’ve you got..?” he asked, the rest of his question cut off by the low, menacing growl coming from her feet. “Easy, big guy.” Liam bent over, offering the dog the back of his hand to sniff.
The dog backed up until he hit Andy’s shins and then he dropped down, planting his butt on her feet. Keeping his gaze locked on the man in front of him, he kept up a steady rumble, only lowering his volume slightly when Liam stood and backed up a step.
“His name is Otter Fox, and you’re scaring him,” she said, ignoring for the moment the dog might be picking up on the way her heart started to race every time the Viking got within reach of her.
“Otter Fox?” His smile curved his full lips, giving his face a wicked expression—like he had plans he had no intention of sharing.
