Rescued by Love

by Deirdre O'Dare

  He must have felt Garrett’s intent scan. “I’ve looked better, I know, but I reckon I could also look a lot worse. I think you’re my guardian angel, you and your dog. Where is it?”

  Garrett chuckled. “I didn’t think they’d let Mandy come in. If she had, she’d probably be in bed with you about now. Seems like she took quite a shine to you.”

  The man shook his head, a smile twisting his lips. “That’d be all right. What I recall, she’s a real pretty girl. Looked damn good to me anyway. I’d begun to think dirt and rusty roofing would be the last things I saw. I guess my scooter’s a total loss? I’d hate to be the one to lose my bike. It’s been in my family a long time.”

  “Maybe not. I picked up the pieces. They’re in my truck right now. Even if I’m no expert on motorcycles, I could see it’s a classic. I figured maybe it could be fixed up to run again. Those old machines were made strong. Thing weighs half a ton.”

  “It saved my ass, for a fact. I’m not sure the tornado hit directly. The wind did, anyway. The roof peeled away overhead and then stuff started falling. I dove for the ground by the bike and it sheltered me to some degree. I figured I was dead, but then after a bit, I woke up. Couldn’t move much, though. When daylight came, I saw I was pinned under a big beam, prob’ly the ridge pole.”

  “Right. It was one big ole beam, about a six by six or so. Took chain saws to cut the thing apart so we could get you out. By the way, my name’s Garrett Turner, and I think I said my dog’s named Mandy.”

  The man held out his left hand, the one without the cast. “Can’t shake properly, bud. I still want to tell you thanks. I’m Dan Boudreaux. I hail from just outside Chalmette, Louisiana. After Katrina, the folks moved over near Houston.”

  Garrett took the offered hand in both of his. The other man’s skin was rough and a bit weathered. It was a working hand, not the soft hand of one who had a desk job. Though not a big man, Dan had a wiry toughness, the physique of a man honed down to solid muscle and bone by a hard life. His toughness had no doubt contributed to his survival. Although not star-level handsome, he had rugged good looks and a magnetic vitality, even badly hurt as he was. Something in Garrett responded to the man’s vivid energy. He knew he wanted to know this guy better.

  There was something special about the man, a vitality and an appealing mixture of strength and vulnerability as he lay there, down though far from out.

  I’d really like to get to know this guy…The sudden urgency of his wish caught Garrett by surprise

  “From what the charge nurse said, you’re in good shape all considered, Dan. I’m glad. Until they got you free, I wasn’t sure how badly you were hurt because I couldn’t get close enough to really check. Even afterward, it was iffy. Lucky thing—a couple of broken bones and severe dehydration can be fixed up pretty easily. Still, I’m glad we found you when we did.”

  Dan nodded. “So’m I. From what they say, I can be released in a day or two. I’m going to have to figure out what to do then. I guess maybe I could get a bus ticket home, although I don’t have a lot of cash on me. I should call home…I just hate to worry them. I check in now and again, but mostly I’m just bumming around right now. Needed to put some bad shit behind me.”

  Garrett read more in the simple words than he figured Dan wanted to risk saying aloud. A shadow in the Cajun’s deep-set eyes betrayed memories too stark and painful to share. Sensing a strange kinship, Garrett wasn’t quite sure what prompted him to offer. The next thing he knew, he found himself saying something surprising even to him.

  “Why don’t you come home with me for a few days? I live over on the western slope, little town called Durango, a nice place. It’s still kind of country and old-fashioned. I’ve got a bigger house than a man alone really needs. Me and Mandy would be glad for some company for a while. Maybe we can get your bike of yours back on its wheels by the time your casts come off and you can be on your way again.”

  Dan looked at him keenly for a moment and then away. He hesitated, as if not sure about accepting a stranger’s hospitality. “If you’re sure it won’t put you out,” he said finally. “I’d be much obliged. Trying to get on and off a bus with this junk on me would be a pain in the ass. I’d have to leave the old Indian with you anyway, I reckon. Won’t fit in a ditty bag, even in pieces.” He grinned wryly. “Damn, life sure can take some weird turns, can’t it?”

  Garrett nodded, briefly drifting back to his own dark memories. “It can for sure. You take care, Dan, and we’ll see you in a day or two when we get ready to head home. Right now I think I owe Mandy a steak. Then we could both use a good night’s sleep.”

  Dan smiled, a genuine smile this time, one going clear to his eyes. “You buy your girl a full steak dinner for me, Garrett. The best is none too good for a dog like her. She looked like an angel to me when she kissed my face in there under the wreckage.”

  Garrett nodded. “She’s one special dog, for a fact. Mandy saved me when life was awfully dark. I guess that’s why I finally realized what we needed to do with ourselves. We went through the SAR school together last year. This is the first time we’ve worked a major disaster. For a rookie, she’s done a championship job. You’ll get to meet her soon.”

  * * * *

  Two mornings later, Garrett pulled up at the hospital. After a few minutes, a nurse’s aide wheeled Dan out to the truck. Although it wasn’t easy, they got him settled in the cab, pushing the passenger seat back as far as it would go to accommodate his bulky casts. From her spot in the back, Mandy watched with concern, offering encouragement with an occasional squeak and whine.

  Before he pulled out to start the drive home, Garrett let Mandy come up between the bucket seats. “Mandy girl, this is Dan. He’s ours for a while. Kinda like in China where if you save somebody you’re responsible for them for the rest of their lives. We got ourselves a pet Cajun. Dan, this is Mandy.”

  Mandy ducked her head, nuzzling against Dan’s shoulder. She then swiped a quick lick across the side of his face before she backed away.

  Garrett laughed. “You damn flirt, Mandy. Is the infamous Cajun charm getting to you?”

  Dan laughed too. Then he shook his head. “Some girl you got there. I think I’m envious.”

  “Mandy picks her own friends. She picked me to get her out of the shelter when she was just a pup. I think she laid some serious juju on me the first day. I guess I’m Daddy or her main man, but I don’t fool myself I’m her one and only. I don’t own her. If anything, she owns me.”

  Any awkwardness that might have sprung up with two strangers in a truck was banished by the manipulations of one golden dog. She sat back in her place with a doggy smile and listened while the two men began to talk easily, as if they’d been friends for years.

  Garrett glanced across at his passenger. Again he was struck by some undefined qualities about the Cajun. They intrigued him. He sensed the other man kept locked within himself an inner pain as keen and brutal as Garrett’s own. Dan had obviously known some terrible loss or tragedy; the shadow of it lingered behind his dark eyes. He wasn’t going to roll over and play dead, or even feel sorry for himself, despite the secret agony lurked in him.

  He’s a damn good-looking guy too. Bet the ladies won’t leave him alone—and maybe even some of the men.

  A sudden shocking notion crossed his mind then, a “what-if” he had never really considered before. He found most women hard to relate to. The good ones were all taken, it seemed, married while he was struggling to raise the twins. And the rest…well, the less he had to do with them, the better. Could another man be the partner and companion he longed for? He knew he needed more than the world’s best dog. Far as he knew though, there were no shelters with people up for adoption or folks seeking friends. How did you find the right one?

  Chapter 2

  What with the stops they had to make before they got home, Garrett got pretty good at helping Dan in and out of the pickup. The folding wheelchair he’d rented did yeoman service and made it
possible, although not easy. It was almost dark when they pulled up in the drive of the gracious old Victorian house in Durango.

  Garrett still felt a pang to drive up and know there was no one to come out to greet him. Besides him and Mandy, only memories lived there now. At least this time he didn’t make the return alone. Even if Dan Boudreaux might not stay for more than a few weeks, for a while, Garrett would not be alone. Even Mandy, dear as she was, could not completely make up for the loss of human companionship. Raising the two kids had left him little time to pursue a social life and, since their death, he really hadn’t wanted to. Maybe he’d been foolish because he was starting to feel a real lack in his life.

  “Nice place,” Dan commented, looking up at the imposing bulk of the old house. “You must rattle around in there like a baseball in a boxcar.”

  Garrett nodded, giving the other man a crooked grin. “Pretty near. When Mom, Dad, the twins, and I were all there, we seemed to trip over each other. Then it got way too empty…”

  “I wasn’t sure when you said you had plenty of room. I see now you weren’t bullshitting me.”

  Mandy followed Garrett, bounding out of the truck to go off sniffing around the yard, checking to be sure everything had remained secure in her absence. Garrett got the wheelchair, helped Dan slide from the truck cab into it, then rolled up to the back porch. It was just one step above the patio and the kitchen door was level with the porch, making it the easiest way to get in.

  He stooped to retrieve the key from under the doormat and unlocked the back door, reached inside to flip on a light, and took Dan inside. In spite of the memories it held, Garrett still loved the big, old, country-style kitchen. Apparently Dan did too. He looked around the homey, spacious room and whistled.

  “Oh, man, I love this kitchen! It’s a cook’s dream. That was what I was planning to do when I got out of the Guard—take my pay and enroll in chef school. Maybe I still will someday. Always loved to cook, but I wanted to be able to do more than make the Cajun stuff I learned from my folks. Having a place like this to work in would be great.”

  “Well, I’m not sure how much cooking you can do with those casts on. You’re free to try anything you can, though. I make do, but I’m no gourmet cook. I can grill a mean steak, make a good pot of beans, and a pretty fine beef stew, a few Mexican dishes—the simple ones—that’s about my limit. I eat out or get carryout a lot, even those damn frozen meals, just ‘cause it’s too much trouble to cook for one.”

  When Dan didn’t reply, Garrett thought he was mulling things over. Since they’d stopped and eaten at Alamosa, they really didn’t need to have supper.

  Garrett only had to think a minute to decide where he’d settle Dan. He chose the big bedroom with the attached bath downstairs, the one his parents had used. He’d always felt kind of foolish for not taking it over. It just hadn’t seemed right, so he used another room probably intended to be a den or an office—which it was, while it served as his bedroom as well. If he wanted to stay up late or get up in the middle of the night and work on his computer, everything was right there.

  Now he wheeled Dan into the rarely used bedroom. “I’m gonna settle you in here for the time being. Room’s got its own bath, so after you get a little steadier on your feet, you can probably make it by yourself. For now, though, I figure it’d be best if I help you.”

  Dan grimaced, then nodded. “Yeah, I guess it would be really dumb to fall on my ass and break something else, wouldn’t it? I’m not used to having anybody hold my hand. Life hasn’t left me much choice right now.”

  “I bunk right across the hall, so if you need anything you can holler.”

  Garrett pulled the dust cover off the bed and folded the sheet and light blanket down. He helped Dan get out of the baggy sweats he’d been able to don over the casts and lent a shoulder to help the smaller man into bed.

  This was the first time he’d seen the Cajun almost undressed. Man, he had a physique—not the body-builder kind of muscle, but a tight, sculpted body nonetheless. Masculine and yet almost beautiful. I wish I could draw or paint. This guy deserves a portrait of some kind. Dan’s chest and arms hinted at strength beyond the norm and with only a pair of loose boxers for concealment, he looked to be pretty well endowed as well. The heat of Dan’s body felt like a furnace where Garrett touched him, almost burning.

  All at once, Garrett had to concentrate on keeping things under control. He’d be embarrassed sick to get a full-fledged hard-on when he was supposed to be serving as a male nurse here. His worn jeans were snug enough it would be hard to hide too.

  The more he fought it, the more his reaction struggled for expression. Oh shit. Well, maybe he’s tired enough not to notice. I’ll just finish helping him into bed as quickly as I can and hurry out with an excuse about needing to feed Mandy.

  Dan settled back on the pillows with a gusty sigh. He looked everywhere except directly at Garrett, the only hint he might have noticed anything. Maybe he was just a bit embarrassed himself, unused to the intimacy required by his temporary helplessness. He doesn’t seem to be turned on, although he’s still pretty doped up and probably hurting in spite of the meds.

  “I’ll bring you a bike bottle for water and if you need anything else, just yell. I’ll be up a while catching up on my e-mail and stuff, so don’t worry about bothering me.”

  Dan stretched out with a sigh close to a groan. “Man, it feels good to lie down. I guess that smashup took more out of me than I figured. Would you mind leaving a light on? Just a small lamp would be enough. In a strange place, I kinda like to be able to look around and get oriented…”

  “No problem.” Garrett switched on an old-fashioned lamp on the dresser before he headed to the door. “Good night, bud. If you need anything at all, don’t be shy about asking. I don’t read minds for shit.”

  “Garrett?” Dan’s soft word stopped him short. “I just wanted to say thanks. I’ve got no way to repay you. I sure appreciate what you’re doing for me, though. I was between the devil and the deep there, trying to figure what would be best. You just solved it for me, like it was nothing.”

  “It’s good for me too, Dan. I’ve been alone in this big old house way too much the past two years. A fellow can go a little crazy. Even while Mandy saved me, sometimes I need more company than just the world’s best dog.”

  Hearing her name, Mandy padded up to the door. She hesitated, as if she wasn’t sure she should come in. Garrett looked at her a moment. “Come on, girl. You can tell our pet Cajun good night.”

  Dan put out his good hand, which Mandy sniffed and then licked once. She pressed closer to the bed and reached as far as she could, her nose twitching. Dan murmured something to her in French. Although Garrett couldn’t translate the phrase, he figured it was some kind of sweet talk. Mandy’s tail wagged twice, then she turned and followed him out the door.

  * * * *

  For the next two hours Garrett submerged himself in the words and pictures flashing across the wide screen of his monitor. He answered some e-mail and did a couple of minor website updates for clients. Before sitting down, he’d taken the blocking panel out of Mandy’s dog door so she could come and go as she wished. She’d made a foray or two outside, but always came back quickly to sprawl in her usual place under his desk.

  He felt heavily tired, although still too wired from the past few days’ efforts to relax. They’d saved a number of trapped people and seen a lot of mangled bodies, past any hope of rescue except for burial. Some of those would haunt him for a while, bringing back memories he didn’t need. At least the successes outweighed the losses. For that, he was deeply thankful. It felt good to make a difference. He and Mandy had, working together as a team.

  Saving Dan was the highlight of the whole effort. There was something very appealing about the young Cajun. Garrett had a sudden intuition they could become real friends, if not even more. He sensed Dan had his own ghosts and baggage. It just meant there were two of them.

  Maybe in
time we can share enough to understand and sympathize with each other. The old saying misery loves company might work.

  In the long haul, he knew what he really sought was to find a new outlet for his need to care about someone, help and protect and yet be cared for in return.

  He’d shed his shirt and jeans, preparing to go to bed, when muffled sounds across the hall caught his attention. Something wasn’t right. He hurried over to see what the matter was. Dan tossed and flailed around, in danger of hurting himself with the heavy cast on his arm. He mumbled and moaned, clearly caught in the throes of a bad dream.

  Garrett leaned down over the bed and caught the smaller man firmly by the shoulders, leaning his weight into holding him still. “Hey, man, it’s okay. You’re all right. Nobody’s going to hurt you anymore.”

  Dan heaved and struggled, crying out a desperate plea. “Non, non, s’il vous plaît, non! Oh, my God, no!”

  Whatever scene he was embroiled in must be horrific indeed. For a tense minute, Garrett wasn’t sure he could restrain the other man’s frantic movements. Then finally Dan relaxed slightly. The next moment his eyes opened. For an instant he stared around wildly. Then awareness returned as he seemed to remember where he was.

  He shook his head, tears welling in his dark eyes. “Sorry, Garrett. I haven’t done that in a while. I was back in Iraq, the day my outfit walked into a roadside cluster bomb.” He shut his eyes a moment, his face drawn into a grimace of agony. “I wish to God I’d quit seeing it all, over and over.”

  Garrett didn’t know what to say. He could feel the other man’s anguish, knew it as a relative to, yet not the same as, his own pain. How could he help? He did the only thing he could, gathered Dan into his arms and simply held him. What could he offer except the comfort of another warm body, a gentle touch? It was much the same as he’d done for Jason and Janice after their parents died, when one or the other would wake from a nightmare of loss and grief, urgently in need of consolation.