Rescued

by L. P. Maxa

  “Did you say you found the puppy somewhere along the river?”

  “Not really, but the answer is yes.”

  “Max Jackson’s farm is on the other side of a creek that feeds the big pond before the river opens up and runs through the valley.”

  “I don’t know who Max Jackson is, but I know the pond, that’s where Reggie came out of the bushes.”

  Cabe smiled, though he knew Phee couldn’t see it; he tried to give her some hope. “Phee, I think I know how to find Reggie.”

  “What, how, how? Tell me right now, how?”

  “Listen, sweetheart, you need to walk straight here and even if it means sacrificing GPS, turn off your phone. Save the battery, only turn it back on if you get hopelessly lost. Okay?”

  The sweetheart bit had slipped out. Maybe he could skip all the stupid steps between a meeting that had rocked his senses and go straight to falling in love.

  “Did you hear me, Phee?” Nothing. The phone was dead, or maybe she’d heard enough to turn off the phone. He didn’t care, he’d find her, and Maggie would find Reggie.

  “Maggie, you want to go out there, don’t you?” She jumped at his question and on hindlegs, pawed frantically at the closed door to the back parking lot. “So I bet there was another pup in your litter.”

  Of course she couldn’t answer, but the way she spun in circles had Cabe shaking his head in amazement. Phee’s pup, Reggie, was the same age as the litter living in his kennel, except that Reggie didn’t look anything like a Dalmatian. “I’ll be damned. That pup left on purpose.” Cabe stopped wasting time musing over the small miracle he believed happened in Maggie’s world. Hell, he’d never understand it anyway.

  Sweater, rain slicker, flashlight, charged cell phone, an extra leash, some beef jerky, a stupid but useful hat, and before leaving, one last task. Cabe bent and clipped an LED light to Maggie’s collar. “Okay, girl, you need to find Reggie and bring him home.” She barked and leapt at the door again. Cabe opened it, knowing full well she’d bolt into the night. He let her and watched as the red light disappeared into the woods.

  ###

  Oscar, exhausted and frightened despite the promise to himself to remain fearless, shivered beneath a half-rotted log. He’d seen a light in the distance, but thunder drowned out his excited yips. It was too much to hope Phee had awoken to find him gone and came to save him. And it didn’t matter because, too weary now to care, Oscar thought a little nap might get him going again. Closing his eyes, he curled into a ball as best he could, and tried to pray as Fiona did. He didn’t know her God, but he believed in Phee.

  ###

  Had he called her sweetheart or was Phee delusional? And who was Maggie? God, there was another woman in his life. Cold, drenched, bereft at her failure to find Reggie, she decided the idea that Cabe was involved with someone threatened to rob her of the focus she needed to survive. She turned off her phone along with her fantasies, and kept walking with her flashlight pointed forward, praying that she didn’t start going in circles without the GPS.

  Despite being hoarse from calling Reggie’s name, she kept it up between booms of thunder until these had faded to rumbling from the far end of the valley. The rain hadn’t stopped but lessened considerably. At least now she could hear herself think.

  The sound of an adult dog barking came through the trees, but that was absurd. “Phee, you are delirious, or frozen, or maybe you’re dead.” She pinched herself, and it seemed she lived. Okay, that was good. Then she stepped on a pile of leaves that looked solid until the ground beneath it gave way. With the sense to cover her head as she rolled, tumbling over and over, she thumped to a stop against a tree.

  “Shit. Shit and double shit.”

  And she meant it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rescuing Reggie

  Something was licking his face. Oscar kept his eyes squeezed shut. He couldn’t feel his limbs, and a bumpy tongue was thawing out his nose. He was cold, and his paw throbbed, so if being licked warm was what was happening before he got eaten by a bear, it was okay.

  Red glowed through his shuttered eyelids despite the darkness, and he swore that before he buried his face under his paws, he’d seen a spotted animal. The thing barked at him, licked him some more, and he thought it was his mom. That meant he was dead because his heaven would be to see her again.

  Oh, but now he loved Phee, too.

  The barking didn’t stop, so he shook his head, and opened his eyes. It was Mom. His mother, standing in the woods, barking, licking, barking, licking. She’d come to save him. He hoped she wouldn’t mind that he didn’t answer to Oscar so much anymore.

  ###

  It didn’t surprise Cabe that they found Phee less than seventy-five feet from Reggie. It seemed both pup and owner had a reason to get to his parking lot because they were a couple of hundred yards from the pavement's edge when one had fallen asleep and the other had crashed into a tree. He had to carry Reggie; the little tyke was exhausted, one paw was bleeding, and there was no time for triage in the woods. Truth? Cabe wanted to carry Phee.

  Maggie kept careful watch over the rescue effort; in fact, she was the one who had bounded off a second time and located Phee. Cabe would have seen the dim glow of the failing flashlight in due course, but the sooner they were all safe and under his roof, the better. He figured Maggie had earned a filet mignon once they got through all of this.

  All of what?

  But he knew. The minute he saw the body prone near the tree stump, he knew what he felt. He wanted Fiona Kavanagh in his life.

  Phee had been able to stand. She had scratches on her face but hadn’t hit her head on the tree. He figured if she’d let him examine her hip, there’d be a massive bruise, and it would also give him a chance to look at the wound from her fall in the parking lot. The more difficult question was how to get her checked out about the baby. A baby he wasn’t supposed to know existed.

  “Reggie, puppy. Are you okay, little man? Where were you going?” She looked at Cabe, “I guess we’ll never know.”

  “Maybe not.” Taken aback by how much her well-being mattered to him, he stuck to few words until he could get his feet under him again.

  “So stupid. I stepped on a bed of leaves without checking, the ground underneath was saturated and gave way. I only tumbled a little. See,” holding her arms out to her sides, and turning in a slow circle, “I’m fine.”

  Her eyes, even in the diffuse glow of his flashlight, said otherwise. Phee was petrified, and he’d be damned if she didn’t accept some of his input. He also knew it had to wait, at least until both puppy and girl were dry and warm. “Can you walk?”

  “Yeah. I’m sore, but I don’t think anything’s broken.”

  “Good, because your puppy is not only exhausted, but possibly hypothermic, and I can’t tell what all else, except there’s likely some foreign body in his left forepaw.”

  “Oh no.” She reached to ruffle the puppy’s head poking out from the crook between Cabe’s left elbow and brushed against his shoulder. Even this slightest contact rocketed Cabe, and he swore if she didn’t feel the fire between them, then she’d need to get checked out for a concussion after all.

  “As you said, Ms. Kavanagh, we may never figure it out, but first things first. Let’s get back to my office before another round of rain hits.”

  “Wow. I didn’t even notice it stopped. The rain I mean.”

  “Right. Well, it has, and you both need looking after. Given the time of night, you might have to settle for me being your doctor.”

  ###

  She didn’t know what happened to the more personal use of Phee, or why Cabe had switched to the cool aloofness he’d shown her that morning. Okay, not that morning, not anymore, as it was well after midnight. Either way, she would not interfere with his suggestion to examine her.

  But first, she needed to pee, maybe puke, and check herself out, alone. God, please, please tell me I didn’t lose the baby.

  Phee knew
about loneliness and heartbreak. Hell, she was a poster child for it, but even in the past months of turmoil, her emotions had not experienced anything as capricious as the tumult felt since meeting Dr. Cabe McCain. Maybe she’d dreamed the sweetheart bit, but she didn’t think so. Besides, his concern for her well-being showed in his steady gaze in spite of the limited illumination. And she’d be damned if he denied feeling the spark that zapped every nerve from her fingers to her forehead, and to places of longing, with hardly a touch. Phee wouldn’t question him out here in the woods. His logic was impeccable in that respect. Whatever was happening between them would have to keep a little longer.

  Chapter Twelve

  Saving Phee

  The first thing she’d done was rush to his bathroom on the excuse of a desperate need to relieve herself. No blood. She didn’t feel different, so Phee relaxed a little. She was okay. The baby was

  okay. She’d know if it were otherwise.

  Returning to the small studio-type room at the back of the office, she relaxed a little when Cabe handed her Reggie. With the puppy asleep in her lap, she tried to focus on the man who’d rescued them, but feeling gutless, she glanced down at Reggie. There was a big badass bandage on his paw, and Cabe insisted on an antibiotic injection because the thorn went deep in the pad, with “God only knows” what kind of bacteria was out there given the habitat.

  Phee told herself another giant vet bill didn’t matter. So what if she had no job and few prospects? Maybe the good doctor would settle for something instead of money. Shit. Recovery was evident by the direction of her wicked thoughts.

  She watched as he ministered to Maggie, drying her off, giving her some water and a piece of beef jerky, but no matter what Cabe did, the dog kept returning to check on the puppy in Phee’s lap, licking at Reggie’s ears. Phee dared a glance at Cabe, wondering at the odd look on his face.

  “Reggie is Maggie’s pup.”

  “What?” Nothing could have surprised Phee more, except perhaps Cabe yanking off his shirt, and kissing her into submission. It wouldn’t take much, but he’d remained business-like since saving her ass, even after they’d all settled in this place. She wasn’t sure what purpose the room held, because his secretary had also mentioned his ranch while babbling about all those big animals.

  At least the place was cozy. Phee had already logged the surroundings in her head. A kitchenette well stocked enough to provide the cup of hot cocoa in her hands, the bathroom had a shower, and without snooping, she’d discovered all the essentials for an overnight stay. Plus the couch she occupied had the earmarks of a sleeper sofa. Her recognition of its dual purpose segued into a flashing fantasy of the damned thing popping open with her on it—an invitation to the man not ten feet away. There was no point to her musings. He’d turned professional and stayed that way since the woods.

  “If it’s okay with you, I’ll check the DNA this week, but it makes sense. She had a big litter, and all the puppies could pass for purebred. Not so much your Reggie.”

  Phee looked at Maggie, then down at Reggie. “I see your point.” Puzzling the differences between mother and son further, she asked, “Does that mean Maggie threw him out?”

  “Maybe. But I don’t think Maggie wanted to, not the way she acted when the storm hit. I swear she knew he was out there, and knew he had been there within the last two weeks. You said you don’t know Max Jackson.”

  Having swallowed from the mug warming her fingers, Phee shook her head from left to right.

  “Well, he’s an asshole, and he would as soon put a bullet in Maggie’s brain once he discovered she was pregnant before he’d bred her to an AKC-registered champion.” Pausing, he looked down at Phee and Reggie, but she couldn’t read his expression. “And Reggie? Looking like he did, that would have been a giveaway. It wouldn’t surprise me if Max used your Reggie’s looks as the excuse to off all the puppies.”

  Phee nearly spit hot chocolate across the room, instead, swallowing her last sip, she rested the mug on a coffee table in front of the sofa and hugged Reggie to her chest. “Oh my God, that’s awful.” Maggie seconded the reaction by resting her head next to Phee’s hip.

  “It’s crazy, I suppose, but I think Reggie left to save them all.”

  “But how can that be? We’re talking dogs here.”

  Cabe sat down beside her, looking as severe as some dad about to revoke every privilege ever granted his teenager for doing something dangerous and stupid. “For starters, they have about three hundred million olfactory receptors to the six million we humans possess. And the part of their brain dedicated to the sense of smell beats ours forty million to one.”

  Phee blanched because his closeness revealed that Cabe still smelled delicious, and she wondered how that was possible after their adventure. Phee shook her head against the continued images of Cabe McCain clad in nothing but his button-fly jeans. “I forgot about your credentials. You must have a zillion animal facts that spring to mind without much effort.” God, she wanted to ruffle the thick brown hair that had curled a bit from the rain. Or run her finger down his neck, and kiss his ears. Well hell, all of him.

  “They can be trained to detect changing sugar levels in diabetics, and some studies suggest dogs can smell cancer. But it’s more than that; they also can feel love.”

  “Well, sure. I think Reggie loves me.” Do you suppose there’s a chance you could?

  He stood up and walked to the door that led to the kennels. “Truth is, Ms. Kavanagh, dogs produce the hormone oxytocin, which is the same one involved in a human’s capacity to feel love for another person.”

  Okay, Dog 101 aside, Phee wanted some Parfume d’Oxytocin—any elixir that put the business-like veterinarian in her arms would do. With no clue where any of this would lead, when Cabe motioned her to follow with a brusque, “Bring the puppy,” she did.

  Once they were through the door to the office kennels, the sound of yipping and howling bounced off the cement, filling the air with a cacophony of excitement. Reggie started wiggling as if getting out of her arms was the most important thing he would ever do, and afraid of dropping him, she squatted and let him down. “It’s okay, right?”

  “It’s fine.”

  Fourteen pounds of fur and clumsy puppy-ness bounded around a big cage at the end of the cement pathway with Maggie close on Reggie’s heels. She looked up to see Cabe grinning, and realized it was the first time she’d ever seen him smile. Reaching down, he pulled Phee to her feet and laughed. The nerve cells that fired from her palms raced up her arms and shattered into a constellation of fuzziness in her head.

  “Come on, Ms. Kavanagh. If I’m right, you aren’t going to believe what we’re about to witness.”

  It could be T-Rex around that corner for all Phee cared. Cabe was holding her hand, tugging her toward something more than what was around the bend. She was as sure of it as Reggie’s tail disappearing. It didn’t seem possible, but the yapping of what must be Maggie’s other puppies escalated, and this time Maggie joined the chorus.

  Cabe pulled up short, and she slammed into him full force. Terrified, she was prepared to take her hand back and run, but he pulled her closer against his chest, capturing all of her attention with a steady and direct look. His blue eyes blazed. She wasn’t a complete idiot. The only interpretation for what she saw was desire.

  “Can you handle this, Phee?”

  The deep rumble of his question set her heart into a freefall with no parachute, and only the earth below. Phee believed she could love Cabe McCain as sure as she had no job, a nutty puppy, and was knocked up. As sure as—his kiss stopped a comparative study of how inept she might be, and of all the baggage carried for so long. She let go, melting against his chest.

  When Cabe abruptly broke the embrace, she reeled. But with both hands on her shoulders, he steadied her then turned her gently toward where Reggie had disappeared.

  “Oh.” Cabe leaned against her from behind, one hand pointing so that her line of sight turned down another w
alkway. “Wow.” She’d let him figure out whether her utterance was from his kiss or the sight before them.

  Reggie had his nose planted flat against the chainlink of a caged area, and on the other side, six puppies that looked precisely like Maggie and nothing like Reggie were scrambling and climbing and barking and licking her dog through the triangles formed by the fencing. She whispered, “Maggie’s litter?”

  “Maggie’s litter reunited with their brother.” One hand stayed connected, gently rubbing her upper back.

  Tears filled her eyes; though she willed them not to, she failed to stop the deluge spilling down her cheeks. “You…how…all of them? It’s like the movie, Cabe.”

  “Well, not exactly. There’s no crazy lady intent on skinning ninety-nine puppies to make a coat, but close enough. As I said, Max Jackson is no good. He would have butchered the lot if he couldn’t pawn the puppies off as purebred. I paid for Maggie and her litter the day before you showed up in my office. It didn’t take long for the idea to hit that Reggie could be one of Maggie’s offspring.”

  “You saved them all?”

  “No. You saved Reggie.” His answer was whispered in Phee’s ear and it nearly buckled her knees.

  With a steadying deep breath, she turned to face him. “I guess that explains why you gave me the third degree.”

  “Did I?” But she could see his admission in the wry smile that replaced the seriousness present since the woods. Phee didn’t want him to move; she felt safe with his hands now resting on her shoulders. Stepping back even an inch would break the spell. He smiled again, and she was pretty damned sure her clothes had spontaneously combusted because she felt naked under his scrutiny.

  “What are you going to do with all of them?”

  “No, Fiona, what are we going to do with all of them?”

  “We?”

  He kissed her forehead, her nose, then whispered, “We.”

  The other Phee, the insecure Phee, joined the party seconds before she’d willed herself naked and in his arms, and now she was prepared to dash out the emergency exit. The red exit sign glowing at the far end of the kennel beckoned. “I can’t. It’s impossible. I’m a wreck. You don’t even know me. I might not even stay in Benton’s Mill.”