Kenzie needed help getting undressed, putting on her pajamas, and getting situated in bed. He put a pillow beneath her arm and set her pain pills and a glass of water on her nightstand.
“There must have been something I could have done to avoid this.”
“This wasn’t your fault. Just rest.” A text and a knock told him Sasha was there. “I’ll be right back.”
Sasha breezed through the door, dogs at her heel. “How is she?”
“She’s in a bit of pain but doing okay. She’s upstairs in bed.”
“Thanks for letting me help. I had the greatest time with these two. If I didn’t travel so much, I’d get a golden retriever puppy just like Gabby.” Sasha knelt down, removed the leashes, and gave each dog a hug. “You be good for Kenzie now. Come play with your Auntie Sasha again soon.”
When Sasha had gone, Conrad settled the dogs for the night and then made his way upstairs to check on Kenzie.
“Are Gizmo and Gabby here?” she asked in a sleepy, drugged voice.
“They’re curled up asleep downstairs.”
“Good.” She reached for him. “Come to bed.”
“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”
“No, you won’t.”
And because he wanted nothing more than to be there beside her, he undressed and climbed into her bed.
* * *
Pain wokeKenzie up a few times during the night, and both times Harrison was there to give her a pain pill or help her get into a comfortable position. Once she woke to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, face in his hands.
“What is it?”
“Nothing. Bad dream. It’s okay.”
“You had another nightmare.”
He lay back down beside her, kissed her forehead. “It’s nothing, really. Sleep.”
But even in the dark, she could see in his eyes that it was far from nothing.
* * *
Kenzie wokethe next morning to a knock on the front door.
“I’ve got it.” Conrad rolled out of bed, slipped into his jeans.
He left the room, his footfalls disappearing down the stairs.
She heard men’s voices, and then Conrad returned.
“Animal control.”
“Right.”
The hospital had reported the dog bite to animal control, so the officer was there—at eight in the morning, for God’s sake—for information.
Harrison helped her dress then disappeared into the kitchen while she answered the officer’s questions. Who owned the dog and what kind of dog was it? Where and how did the bite happen? Did she want to press charges?
Kenzie had no intention of pressing charges. “The basset hound is only four months old and would probably do well with some behavioral training.”
