Thank You, God.
“It has.” Sarah swallowed her mixed feelings. She welcomed Rita’s return to strength, but her house seemed wanting as the kids spent more time with their mother.
Something in her voice shifted Craig’s attention. His expression turned curious. “You okay?”
She mustered a smile. “Fine.”
“Hmm.” His look said he wasn’t quite buying it. He glanced around, eyeing the bustle surrounding them, and chose not to pursue the topic. Sarah breathed a sigh of relief, but the restlessness returned as she watched him stride away, his step quick and sure.
Etta Waters stopped Craig as he cut across the festival site. “I haven’t seen you favor the festival this much in years,” she crowed, beaming.
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand her good-natured teasing. “A good year all around.”
“I’ll say.” She nodded, brisk. “And we’ve never been privy to so much action at the sheep booth before. It’s positively hopping over there.”
Craig’s interest spiked. “How’s that?”
“Well there’s you, of course.” Etta smiled and patted his arm with a touch of comfort. “And Marc DeHollander has stopped by more than once, if you know what I mean.” Raising her hand, she pretended to count. “That nice new science teacher from Potsdam’s been by every day. Twice today, actually. And Brooks Harriman.”
“You’re a troublemaker, Etta Waters.”
She giggled.
“If it were up to you,” Craig continued, “I’d be challenging my best friend to a duel, ruining a guy’s chances for tenure and rendering the town’s woodcrafter’s hands useless. Gossip can be an evil thing.”
She nodded, her dark eyes sparkling. “And since when is reporting facts considered gossip?”
She had him there. He glanced from the woolens booth to Etta. “Busier than last year?”
“Tenfold.”
Craig scanned the growing crowd and spotted Marc alongside the Ladies Auxiliary lemonade booth. He headed that way. Marc held out a hand as he approached. “Craig. How’s it going? Can I buy you one?” He nodded toward the overblown picture of a smiling yellow lemon.
“Absolutely. And everything’s fine. How about you?”
Marc glanced around, affable. “Doing okay. Great festival.”
“It is.” Staring his buddy down, Craig accepted the lemonade.
Marc gestured to the leaderboard. “I was surprised to see your name with Brett Slocum’s.”
“Good kid.”
Marc accepted his response in typical fashion. “I’m sure he is. But I was still surprised.”
“He’s been staying with Sarah,” Craig rejoined. He folded his arms across his chest and braced his legs apart, his look level.
“With Sarah?” Repeating the words, Marc leaned back, his jaw working, his voice thoughtful, eyeing Craig’s posture.
“I understand you’ve developed an increased interest in sheep products?”
As the light dawned, Marc grinned. “Let’s say I had an increased interest. It’s just been downsized. Who’d have thought?” Laughing, he clapped Craig on the back.
Craig relaxed his stance. “Not me, certainly. Now?” He rubbed a hand across his chin, eyeing the slender figure in the woolens booth, her braid shifting as she interacted with customers. “I can’t imagine life without her.”
“Oh, man. You do have it bad.” Marc offered him a look of commiseration. “Couldn’t keep the three-date rule, huh?”
Admitting this made him feel like a first-class heel. “We haven’t actually dated yet,” Craig confessed. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“Macklin, you’re pathetic.”
“Or really good,” Craig supposed with a grin. “Either way, she’s off the market.”
“Message delivered,” Marc acknowledged, smiling in Sarah’s direction. “She’s a wonderful girl. After all that’s happened, you’re lucky she gives you the time of day.”
“Don’t remind me. I’ve improved.”
Marc angled him a glance and nodded. “I can’t disagree. Do I get to be a groomsman?”
“Absolutely.” Relaxing, Craig took a long draw from his tumbler. “But let me ask her first.”
“You sure she’ll say yes?”
Watching Sarah, Craig raised his cup to Marc’s and shook his head. “Not at all. But I’ll ask her anyway. Some things are worth the risk.”
Marc contemplated that and shrugged. Craig grinned. “Your turn’s coming, DeHollander. Man doesn’t live by beef alone.”
The reference to Marc’s herd drew his laugh. “It’s worked so far,” he retorted, grinning. “Besides, you just snagged the most eligible farm wife candidate. There aren’t many girls like Sarah. Faith-filled. Smart. Beautiful. Unafraid to get dirty.”
“You’re close to getting punched again,” Craig warned. Marc laughed and slapped an arm around Craig’s shoulders.
“I’m happy for you, old man.”
Craig nodded, his heart pinching at the sight of Sarah bouncing someone’s baby as the young mother shopped for winter gloves. “Me, too. If she says yes.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Sarah pulled her rain slicker close as the north wind channeled beneath the barn’s eaves. The late-summer day hinted fall, the wet chill a portent of what was to come.
She never minded winter. It was a given when you lived at the forty-fifth latitude. In fact, she welcomed the cold, the peace of the winter season, the flurry of spring, summer and fall work behind her.
But this year the change of seasons loomed stark. It heightened the sudden silence of her house with Rita and the kids gone, the family court judge approving Rita’s petition for custody. By Wednesday, Sarah felt twitchy.
The festival weekend left a chain of pleasant memories, including the thrill of seeing Craig and Brett receive third prize in the final tally. The boy’s confidence had surged with the two hundred dollars’ worth of fishing tackle he claimed as a yellow ribbon winner. Sarah relished the victory, coming so soon after the soccer defeat, knowing Craig engineered the entry for just that reason. And Craig?
Her heart did a hop, skip and jump at the thought of her rangy neighbor. He’d been working double time since the weekend, making up for the days he’d taken off.
The promised date didn’t look hopeful. As she gathered inoculation supplies, she checked her phone messages, hoping to hear his voice.
Nope. The single voice mail came from the wrong guy. The science teacher’s attentions made the old axiom about raining and pouring ring true. Sarah turned, supplies in hand, as the phone rang. She answered it with one eye on the clock. “Hello.”
“Sarah? It’s Craig.”
His voice drew a smile. “I was just thinking about you.”
“Anything good?” He sounded rushed.
“Pretty much,” she confessed. She heard him draw a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice held relief.
“I miss you. Taking time off for the festival was great, but it totally messed up our office schedule. I’ll be marking time here for the next two days at least, which kills our date plans.”
“You sound tired.”
“A little.” She heard him take a long drink of something. “Hungry, mostly, but I’ve got an incoming critical canine. The repair will take a while, if he survives the transport. Then he’ll most likely need post-surgical monitoring. I tried calling a little while ago to explain, but your line was busy.”
“You must have called when that new teacher from Potsdam was calling.”
“And he wanted?” Craig’s voice went from apologetic to stern.
“I have no idea,” Sarah replied, her fingers toying with the buttons on the phone. “He left a message.”
“That said?”
Sarah grinned and replied, “That he couldn’t get my coffee-colored eyes out of his mind and would I like to have dinner this weekend?”
Craig muttered something less than proper in a tone two
steps below a growl. Sarah heard the jangle of the waiting room door as someone arrived at the clinic. “Honey, gotta go.” Craig’s voice was back to business. “Talk to you later.”
By the time Sarah had administered her necessary injections, an hour had passed. Glancing at her watch, she hurried upstairs to shower and change.
Maybe they couldn’t go out for the romantic evening he’d promised, but she could salvage time with Craig if she hustled. And the guy had to eat, right? By the time she pulled into the clinic’s parking lot forty minutes later, the smell of fresh-baked pizza from a local shop had her mouth watering.
The rear door of the clinic stood ajar. The window blinds angled left, out of kilter. She nudged the door shut and carried the food through a back hall she’d never seen before, listening for sounds.
Muffled sobs came from the waiting room. Sarah set the food in the small kitchen area and moved toward the sound.
State troopers filled the room. A woman sat next to one, her cheeks wet, the officer’s arm snugged around her shoulders. Red-rimmed eyes were the norm in an area filled with robust men, the sort that didn’t get misty-eyed easily. Sarah stopped in the doorway, uncertain. The trooper holding the woman looked up. “Any news?”
Sarah shook her head. “No. I’m sorry. I’m a friend of Dr. Macklin’s. Is it your dog?”
The man sank back. “My partner, Kip. He took a bullet meant for me.” The woman cried harder, fear mingling with grief.
Instinctively, Sarah moved forward, aware of the men watching. She stooped and grasped the woman’s hands. “Can we pray?”
The woman straightened.
Sarah sensed the mixed looks around her. Eyes closed, she took the woman’s hand and reached out her second hand in blind faith. Fingers clasped hers, the touch reassuring. “Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy Name…”
The joint effort resounded throughout the small room. As they brought the ancient words to a close, Sarah offered her own entreaty, asking God’s blessings on the doctors’ knowledgeable hands and Kip’s spirit.
Her prayer broke the ice. In voices ranging from wavering to angry, the room filled with troopers’ petitions. As prayer rounded the chairs, peace descended. Fear lessened. Anger dissipated.
Silence blanketed the room. Sarah held the woman’s hand, letting her prayer rise from her heart, unwilling to disturb the pervading quiet. When she opened her eyes, Craig stood in the doorway. He crossed the room to the couple on the couch. “There’s hope.”
“Thank You, God.”
The woman squeezed Sarah’s hand, then released it to hug the man beside her. Craig’s eyes softened when he saw Sarah. He reached down to pull her upright. It wasn’t the time for words, she knew that. Pressing her fingers, Craig addressed the group. “The bullet did major damage. It tore through Kip, causing massive internal trauma and breaking his left hind leg. We’re not out of the woods yet,” he cautioned, “but there’s hope. We were able to stabilize him with Oxyglobin until the donor blood arrived. Without that medication—” Craig shook his head, his hand tensing “—there would have been no chance.”
“But now there is?” The woman stood on unsteady legs, her eyes imploring. “He might live?”
“The next twelve hours are critical,” Craig told her. “I’m staying with him tonight. I’ll intervene if necessary. He’s a beautiful animal.”
“Belgian Malinois,” explained one of the officers. “He and Mike have been partners for over three years. The dog’s a solid cop.”
High praise indeed. Craig waved his hand. “You’re welcome to sleep here, though it’s not comfortable. I’ve got the numbers you gave me.” He turned and addressed the couple. “If there’s any change, I’ll call you. And if you’ve got kids at home, they’re probably worried sick.”
“He’s right,” agreed Mike. He stepped closer to his wife. “We’ll go home, Doc, but it’s nearly forty minutes away. You’ll call us if—” He couldn’t say the words. His eyes spoke for him.
“Absolutely. Any change at all, I’ll be on the phone,” Craig promised. He reached out a hand. “Keep praying.”
His words brought several pairs of eyes Sarah’s way. One of the troopers grasped her hand. “Thank you, Miss. It helped.”
“Yeah.” Another officer grabbed her in a hug. “Thanks.”
One by one they thanked both Sarah and Craig until the waiting room stood empty. Quiet.
Craig turned her to face him, his eyes quizzical. “What exactly did you do out here?”
“Prayed with them,” she told him, leaning forward to rest her head against his chest. “They were so angry. I thought it might help.”
“I’ll say.” Leaning back, he tipped her chin up, his head tilted, his expression gentle. “You came.”
She nodded, loving the look of him, the feel, the way his eyes softened when he looked at her. “Yes.”
“Because?”
“You needed me.”
He hugged her, dropping his cheek to her hair. She felt the weariness in him, alongside the joy. “Thank you. What about the teacher guy?”
Sarah smiled up at him, hoping her eyes said more than her words. “Who?”
He grinned. “Right answer.” He led her to the recovery area, where Hank and Ralph were cleaning up from the intervention. “Boys. We’ve got company.”
“And food,” she announced, angling her head toward the access hall as she moved to the dog’s side. “There’s pizza in the kitchen.”
Ralph and Hank exchanged glances. “If he doesn’t marry her, I will,” Ralph declared.
Sarah laughed as she stroked the Belgian’s thick-furred head. “You’re already married,” she scolded, her voice soft, her touch light.
“It might be worth the hassle to get the food,” the older man responded with a grin.
Sarah scanned his ample proportions and sent him a look of disbelief. “I don’t think access is the problem you make it out to be.”
“Gotcha.” Hank laughed at Ralph, then grinned at Sarah while he washed. “Come on, Ralph. Let’s grab some pizza and leave these youngsters to the overnight. I’m beat.”
Craig shook Hank’s hand. He nodded to the dog, intentionally sedated to allow his body recovery time. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Me either,” agreed Hank, giving Craig’s hand a solid pump. “Too many holes. Amazing what a single bullet can do. I think he’ll do okay.” They watched as Sarah put her cheek to the dog’s neck, nuzzling, her voice crooning something low and native. She closed her eyes, blocking them out, her words for the dog alone.
“You’re a lucky man, Doc.” Ralph’s voice tinged with admiration. Sarah let a little smile curve her lips.
“Blessed,” Craig corrected. She heard the scrape of a chair as he moved one closer to the injured dog. “Definitely blessed.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sarah stirred at the sound of a closing door. She strove to move deeper into the pillow. A gentle hand stopped her. “Sarah. Wake up. It’s almost morning.”
“Hmm?” Disoriented, she blinked and yawned. “What?”
“Sarah.”
The deep voice raised her senses. Blinking again, she focused on Craig. “Hey. What are…?” As memories tweaked, she looked around, regaining her bearings. “I fell asleep?”
Craig laughed. “About ten minutes after you put your cheek to Kip’s neck. Approximately,” he scanned his watch, “seven hours ago.”
“No.” Embarrassed, she looked up at him. “I meant to stay up with you. Keep watch.”
Craig laid a gentle hand alongside her cheek. “You kept him calm. As long as you were there, his vitals stayed steady. You were his best medicine, Wise Woman.”
“Really?” The idea pleased her. Hank slipped in, tugging on a clean scrub coat. “What now?”
“Next shift,” answered Hank with a smile. “Go home, guys. Get some sleep.” He didn’t notice Sarah’s look of chagrin. She, at least, wasn’t a bit tired.
She reached up a hand to his bristly cheek. “You stayed awake all night?”
He nodded and stretched. “You’re pretty when you sleep.” He smiled at her reaction, then headed for the door, swinging it open so she could step through. “But you’re downright beautiful when you’re awake.”
Sarah looked around in surprise as Craig’s SUV mounted his angled drive. “I thought you were dropping me home.”
“I’ll walk you over shortly. It’s time you saw my house.”
“Now? You’re dead on your feet. I’ll see it later.”
“Now.” His tone left no room for argument. She gave him a funny look, but unfastened her seatbelt and stepped out of the car. “Beautiful view, Doc.” She waved a hand to the broad vista before her. The back broadened into an expansive site, the lot spreading far and wide. Lovely.
Craig shrugged. “I prefer the front.”
Sarah turned, puzzled. “But the trees block most of that. All you can see is some of my pasture and my barn.”
He gave her a look meant to curl her toes and hoped it did. “That’s right.”
She flushed. He smiled to see it, then led her inside. “Come on. You’ve put this off long enough.”
He opened a back door that led into a service area. A full bath opened to her left and a laundry room to her right. He nodded to the closets and cupboards lining the walls. “My work gets messy. I wanted to be able to get rid of dirty clothes and shower right here.”
“Smart,” she agreed. “I hate that I have to trek through the house and clomp upstairs in dirty clothes to reach the tub. Old houses didn’t have setups like this.”
He nudged her forward. “The kitchen.”
“Oh, my.”
Golden oak cabinets brought the honeyed tone of post and beam construction into the room. Red-veined ivory granite counters reflected the spiced tones of the patterned tile floor. A three-sided bay featuring a centered door allowed extra floor space for a table and access to the backyard. The kitchen and dining area both overlooked the panoramic view. She turned to Craig, amazed. “You picked the ideal setting for this house. How on earth did you do that?”
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