“Hope said if you make her a sweater, it can’t be too girly.” He held the door to the hallway open for her. “
“Did she now?” Her cheeks felt the width of her smile.
He made anXon his chest. “Cross my heart.”
“Well, when I get to that point, I’ll make sure to consult her on style and color.”
They reached his office, and she heard a scratching noise coming from inside. “Do you hear that?”
Nodding, he opened the door. His eyes widened, and he waved her in. “Look.”
She stepped inside, covered her gaped mouth. “She’s standing.”
Hope stood, wobbling against the wall. She seemed to want to move forward but couldn’t figure out how to make her legs cooperate.
Luna moved a pace forward, but Carl extended a hand to stop her. “Let’s see what she can do.”
Her gaze fixed on Hope, in awe of the dog’s progress. “Thank you, Lord.”
She didn’t know when it happened, but she became aware of her hand entwined with Carl’s. A voice in her head said to pull away, but it wasn’t possible. For one second in time she felt safe and protected, happy and at peace.
Daring a look at him, she watched him stare at Hope with eyes full of will and faith. It dawned on her that he wanted Hope’s full recovery as badly as she did, and it endeared him to her. A man that invested in a dog couldn’t be harsh and violent, not when he took such tender care of an injured pup.
Hope didn’t notice them. She continued her quest, emitting an occasional low whimper. Still bracing herself against the wall for support, she lifted a leg. She tried to move forward and stumbled.
Again, Luna yearned to rescue her, but Carl shot her a look that said, “She has to do this on her own.”
Not to be dissuaded, Hope found her bearings, made another attempt. This time she moved forward, off the bed they kept for her in the office. Luna sucked in a breath, amazed as she watched Hope take a second step, and a third. She didn’t release it until Hope tired and awkwardly laid herself down several feet away.
With her hand still in his, Luna spun to face Carl. Tears of joy overflowed onto her cheeks. “She did it. She really did it!”
His own eyes appeared suspiciously moist. “Praise the Lord.”
“A Thanksgiving miracle.” Awareness of their close proximity slammed against her.
“Luna.” Her name slipped from his lips in a hoarse whisper. His other hand found hers and he pressed their palms together in a gentle touch.
She swallowed around the lump in her throat. She should walk away, pull away, anything but keep standing there with her hands in his, yet all the should haves in the world couldn’t make her move. Rare was a day she didn’t fear a man, but here she was, alone in a room with Carl without one bit of trepidation.
Her head spun with the impossible coming true. “I…”
The words wouldn’t come. Anything spoken could only taint this perfect moment.
He gave her time to back away, but her feet refused to move. He closed the gap between them, released her hand to run his fingers over her hair. The softness in his touch, the compassion in his eyes—it made her want to believe that maybe wounds could heal after all, that her heart wasn’t closed permanently.
The sound of a woman clearing her throat made her jump. She detached herself from Carl, embarrassed to be caught in that position. Heat raced up her neck and into her cheeks. What must Rachel think of her?
Carl stepped in without missing a beat. He pointed to Hope. “We’re celebrating. Guess who walked there from her bed.”
“That’s wonderful.” Rachel’s brows relaxed and she walked into the room, followed by her boyfriend, Aaron. She stooped down to pet Hope, and the light caught on her ring.
Her ring?
Carl must have noticed it at the same time. He slapped Aaron’s back. “I see we have another reason to celebrate.”
Aaron grinned and helped Rachel to her feet. “She said yes.”
“Congratulations.” Carl gave Rachel a brotherly hug.
