“A false alarm? Jesus Christ, Meredith! It’s not like we’re in the suburbs where she could be at one of the neighbors. Don’t you know what could happen to her out there? What the hell were you thinking?”
At the question, she cupped her hand over her eyes. No answer, just a silent jerking of her shoulders that told him she was gulping back sobs.
Caught between flagging anger and a clawing fear for Sammy’s safety that made him feel sick, Heath couldn’t take the time to comfort her.
“Get in!” he barked.
While she circled the Bronco, he radioed the sheriff’s department. He was already speaking with Jenny Rose by the time Meredith climbed into the rig. When she saw what he was doing, she turned as pale as milk.
Heath knew then that his first reading of Meredith Kenyon had been dead to rights. She was hiding from someone, undoubtedly a husband. That was the only reason he could think of that she would react this way. She was afraid the authorities might put out an APB. Or, worse yet, flash a picture of Sammy on all the news broadcasts.
For some reason, that realization only made Heath angrier. That she would trust him so little…All she had ever needed to do was ask, and he would have done everything in his power to keep the bastard away from her. Didn’t she know that?
Hell, no. He was a man, and in her opinion, that meant he automatically had “jerk” emblazoned on his forehead. So much for his making headway with his pretty little neighbor. Who the hell had he been trying to kid? She didn’t trust him any more now than she had in the beginning.
Feeling like the world’s biggest chump, Heath slammed the Bronco into gear and peeled rubber going up the road. After parking in Meredith’s driveway, he killed the engine and threw open his door.
“Is the house locked?” he asked curtly.
“No, why?” She wrenched on her door handle. “Shouldn’t we keep looking outdoors for her until the other searchers get here?”
“I want to check the house again first.”
She piled out of the Bronco and dogged his footsteps all the way to the house, her shrill voice cutting through the unnatural silence. “I told you, she isn’t here. I looked everywhere! This is just a waste of time. And for your information, the only reason I hadn’t already called the police when you came is because I’ve been out in the fields! She’s wearing pink, and there are patches of clover everywhere out there! I kept thinking it was her.”
Seeing her stricken expression, Heath started to wish he’d kept his mouth shut out there on the road. He felt like a jerk for snarling at her, and if that wasn’t a hell of a note, he didn’t know what was. After what he’d just discovered about her, he was nuts to still care this much.
Heath proceeded to check each room. More than once, he’d found a missing child asleep in a small cubbyhole right under a frantic mother’s nose. At times like this, most parents got a little hysterical and failed to search as thoroughly as they should.
To Meredith’s credit, she didn’t simply stand there arguing with him, but began combing the rooms again herself. Heath even heard her go out to check in the Ford. When he found nothing but a few dust balls under the beds, he returned to the kitchen to check unlikely hiding places. Meredith was right; the child wasn’t in the house.
Meredith emerged from the bathroom just as Heath reentered the kitchen. He didn’t miss the fact that she’d straightened her wig and that both her eyes were once again brown. She had apparently gotten a look at herself in one of the mirrors.
Interesting. She couldn’t afford to buy good cuts of meat, but she’d coughed up the money for a spare set of contacts. Heath knew damned well the lenses didn’t come cheap. Aside from the cost, it also struck him as odd that she would go to such lengths to alter her appearance. It couldn’t be comfortable, wearing a wig all the time, yet he’d never seen her without it. The man she was eluding must be a world-class asshole, he decided. Maybe even a sicko. She was taking no chances that he would find her.
Avoiding his gaze, she pushed nervously at her hair as she moved past him. “Now what? Can we start searching the fields? I’m so—” She broke off and pressed her hands over her face. “I’m so afraid she’s lying out there somewhere, hurt.”
Heath didn’t doubt her sincerity. She was scared to death for her daughter, no question about it. He just wasn’t blind to the fact that Sammy’s well-being wasn’t the only thing she was worried about. The little fool. She was hoping and praying he hadn’t noticed the slightly crooked wig or the missing contact.
Fat chance. Right now simply wasn’t the time to confront her. Finding Sammy had to take precedence.
“I’m going to get Goliath,” he told her. “He’ll be worth ten men out in those fields.”
Heath didn’t add that they might have to comb the surrounding woods as well. As a lawman, he was accustomed to sometimes having to be less than honest with parents. It wasn’t easy to keep one’s cool when a beloved child was missing. In fact, for the first time in his career, he was getting a taste of just how difficult it was.
He loved that little girl. God, how he loved her. But facts were facts, and there was no one to act as a buffer for him so he didn’t have to face them. It would be fully dark in about three hours. If he and his deputies hadn’t found Sammy in half that time, he’d have no choice but to call in the state police.
They couldn’t leave the child out there alone after the sun went down. The high desert temperatures dropped sharply at night, which would increase Sammy’s risk of suffering from exposure. And, thanks to recent legislation that restricted hunters from using dogs, there were also a considerable number of cougars in the area.
Heath stepped over to look out the window, his gaze fixed on the fields and forests. Five years ago, he wouldn’t have been concerned about a cougar attacking a child, for the large cats weren’t naturally inclined to prey on humans. But now that the cougar population had exploded, the younger males had been forced closer to towns to find their own territories. In this day of depleted game, each adult male cougar now required fifty square miles of hunting ground just to stay alive. That equated to hungry cats, which led to their attacking pets and livestock on a regular basis, and occasionally the unwary human. A child Sammy’s age would be extremely vulnerable.
Heath turned to meet Meredith’s frightened gaze. “My deputies will come here instead of to my place. Can you wait here for them while I go get my dog?”
She hugged her waist, looking so shaken and lost herself that Heath was tempted to hug her. All that held him back was knowing those big brown eyes of hers were as fake as a counterfeit bill.
Once at his place, Heath alighted from the Bronco in a run, heading straight for Goliath’s kennel. When he reached the gate, he saw that the latch had been lifted. His gaze shot to Goliath, who lay inside the doghouse. There was no sign of Sammy, but she’d obviously been here. If the Rottweiler had lifted the latch, he would be long gone.
“Goliath, come here, buddy,” Heath called.
The dog thrust his massive head out the opening of the doghouse, but made no move to get up. Heath stepped inside the chain-link pen.
“Goliath?”
The Rottweiler whined and pushed up on his haunches. Heath hunkered down to peer past the dog’s stout body and saw a bit of pink in the shadows. Sammy. Heath nearly hooted with joyous relief. Of course the child had come here. She’d probably overheard her mother speaking with him on the phone last night and had understood enough of the conversation to get upset.
Heath grabbed his dog by the collar and tugged him from the enclosure. Sammy lay curled up on Goliath’s blanket, deeply asleep. When Meredith had come here looking for her earlier, she hadn’t searched thoroughly enough. Typical. Heath had seen other parents do the same thing a hundred times, darting here and there, screaming in panicked voices, hysteria clouding their thinking. In their terror, they seemed to forget their kids might be asleep and not hear them yelling.
Retracing his steps to the Bronco, Heat
h radioed the sheriff’s department again to tell Jenny Rose that a team of searchers wouldn’t be necessary, after all.
“So, she’s safe and sound? Over.”
Heath chuckled and keyed the mike. “Yeah. Having a nice little nap. Over.”
Jenny Rose laughed. “I’ll call off the troops, then.”
“Thanks, Jen. I’m gone. Out.”
Still grinning, Heath returned to the kennel and dropped to his knees in front of the doghouse to gaze at Sammy. In one limp hand, she held what appeared to be three hairpins with pieces of pink toilet paper clumped at the ends. The unfurled fingers of her other hand revealed a dime and three pennies resting on her grubby little palm. Gently, Heath gave the child a shake.
“Sammy,” he called softly. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”
The little girl blinked and yawned. As she sat up, she dropped the coins on the blanket and immediately began picking them back up. “Hi, Heef.”
“Hi, yourself. What are you doing here, Sammy? Your mommy is really worried.”
She thrust the hairpins at him. “I brung you flowers.” Rubbing her eye with the fist that held the money, she peered at him as if to gauge his reaction. “I made ’em for you all by myself with hardly any help.”
A lump lodged in Heath’s throat as he accepted the gift. Christ. He was getting choked up over globs of toilet paper on hairpins. What the hell was the matter with him? He held up the offerings to admire them. After studying them from all angles, he still couldn’t tell what kind of flowers the bedraggled clumps were supposed to be.
“Wow. These are the prettiest flowers anyone has ever given me.” That wasn’t a lie; they were the only flowers he’d ever received. “And you made them all by yourself?”
“Yup. Do you like that kind?”
Heath nodded. All of a sudden, dirty pink was his favorite color. “I love this kind.”
She pursed her small mouth. “I bet you can’t tell what kind they are.”
Somehow, he had known that question was coming. Thinking fast, he said, “I can so.” Then, catching sight of his barbecue grill, which he’d set under the eave of the pole barn, he quickly added, “They’re hitachi paperondus.”
Her expression went from expectant to disappointed. “Nope. They’re roses. I guess I di’n’t make ’em very good.”
Heath twirled one of the tattered blobs on its stem. “Oh, no, sweetheart. These are the most beautiful hitachi paperondus I’ve ever seen.” He winked at her. “That’s an inveigler’s name for roses. Didn’t you know that?”
“What’s a”—she wrinkled her nose—“inbeggler?”
“An expert of sorts.” Heath was definitely an expert at spouting bullshit when the occasion called for it.
And since Meredith had moved in next door, he was also becoming an expert at dealing with females. He had a sneaking suspicion he was being buttered up by this little lady. Sweetly, to be sure, but buttered up all the same. As a kid, he had been particularly nice to his dad whenever he wanted something, serving him coffee, fetching his slippers. He had a hunch Sammy’s roses were a version of the same strategy.
What did she want? That was the question, and Heath didn’t really have time to find out. Meredith was still pacing the floors, and he needed to get Sammy home.
“Well, sweetcakes. Let’s go see Mommy. She’s been looking all over for you.”
“Not yet,” Sammy said, her expression slightly mutinous. “We gots to talk first.”
“We do?” Mutiny coming from Sammy was an unexpected turn. Heath could see that whatever was on her mind was extremely important, at least to her. “What do we have to talk about, honey?”
The determined glint in her big blue eyes should have been fair warning.
“I wanna buy G’liath from you.” She thrust out her hand, palm up, to display the thirteen cents. “If that’s not enough, I’ll pay you a bill every month like my mommy does the ’lectric comp’ny.”
Heath wasn’t sure what to say. He stared down at the coins, which were apparently a small fortune, in her estimation. “Well, now. That’s quite an offer.”
“I been savin’ for a Barbie outfit. But I ’cided I gotta buy G’liath instead.”
Heath searched for some way to explain that Goliath couldn’t be sold. Technically the dog was the property of the county.
“Gee, honey. That’s a tough one. You see, I can’t sell Goliath. Not to anyone.”
“You gots to. I don’t wanna hurt your feelings, but G’liath needs me to buy him.”
“He does?”
“Yup. So’s I can be the boss over him. Not nobody else. Just me.”
“I see,” Heath said. Only, of course, he didn’t see at all.
“If I’m G’liath’s boss, I won’t never make him go asleep.”
“Ah.” The lights were starting to come on.
“I know what ‘going asleep’ means. It’s what grownups say to little kids when somebody dies. My daddy went asleep, and so did my par’keet, and both of ’em got covered up with dirt afterward. My fish went asleep, too, but I guess that don’t really count. Fishes just get flushed.”
Heath wished he’d brought Meredith. He was way out of his depth.
After regarding him for a long moment, Sammy continued. “A real friend is s’posed to be a friend for always, no matter what. Did you know that?”
Heath bit back a smile. “I think I’ve heard that a time or two.”
“I heard it from my mommy, and she’s most always right.”
“I imagine she probably is.”
Sammy leaned forward. “I’m not mad at you or nothin’.”
He was relieved to hear that. “You’re not?”
“Nope. Mommy says it isn’t always easy to be a friend. That’s how you can tell your real friends from the pretend ones, ’cause the real ones stay your friends no matter what.” She touched her small hand to his. “Sometimes ‘no matter what’ is somethin’ real bad, Heef. Like when a dog bites somebody.” Her chin started to quiver and her eyes filled with tears. “G’liath shouldn’t have to go asleep and get covered up with dirt for biting that man. He wasn’t a nice man. G’liath was just trying to be my ’tector, is all.”
Pinned by her gaze, Heath found himself thinking that he’d never seen eyes so incredibly blue, or so large and guileless. A man didn’t stand a chance.
“Hasn’t G’liath always been a good dog up till now?” she asked. “He saved little kids, and he always minded what you said. Now, just ’cause he’s done one bad thing, you’re gonna make him go asleep! Haven’t you never done a bad thing?
Heath had definitely made his share of mistakes, and Sammy’s lecture was making him realize how close he had come to making another one. In the state of Oregon, all dogs were allowed one bite that broke the skin. Didn’t Goliath deserve the same fair shake? Lawsuits, rules, following orders. He’d gotten so wrapped up in the legalities and risks that he’d lost sight of what really mattered.
Looking over at Goliath, Heath recalled all the times the dog had been his friend “no matter what,” and he knew, deep in his heart, that Sammy had just hit the nail on the head. Goliath would go up against insurmountable odds to save Heath, and if Heath wanted to be able to live with himself, he could do no less in return. Screw the risks, and the technicalities, and the state’s goddamned rules. It would result in a nasty battle, but Heath owed it to the dog to fight for him. He only regretted that he had needed a child to remind him of it.
Heath tucked the roses into his pocket and patted his thigh. “Come here, Sammy.”
Clutching her money, she crawled from the doghouse. Heath deposited her on his knee. She turned to place her little hands on his cheeks. “Please, Heef? Don’t make him go asleep.”
“I won’t,” he said, wanting to get that concern out of the way immediately. “You’re right, sweetheart. I have to be Goliath’s friend, no matter what.”
“Do you promise?”
Heath hesitated. If the county insisted that th
e dog be euthanized, he could end up in court, and even then a judge might rule against him. What did he plan to do then? Appeal, he guessed. And fight like hell. “Yeah,” he said gruffly. “I promise.”
She beamed a smile at him and planted a kiss on his chin. “See, G’liath? You don’t gotta go asleep for a long, long time.”
Heath smiled and reached over to pet his dog. Goliath whined and moved closer, licking Sammy’s face then Heath’s hand. It was almost as if the Rottweiler understood.
“About your buying Goliath,” Heath said. “You understand, don’t you, that he’s a retired canine deputy?” At Sammy’s nod, Heath continued, “Well, that means he isn’t really my dog. I’m just his guardian, and I can’t sell him to anyone. If I could, though, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather sell him to than you. You love him a lot, don’t you?”
Sammy nodded solemnly, then spread her arms wide. “I love him this much.”
“That’s a lot,” Heath agreed.
“Yup. That’s how come I wanna buy him, ’cause I don’t want him to go asleep.”
“You can trust me to be sure that doesn’t happen.” He studied the child’s upturned face. “Sammy, since I can’t sell Goliath to you, how would you feel about being his honorary guardian?”
Her eyes filled with bewilderment. “What’s that?”
“Well, you’d be like me—sort of his owner, but not really. In an unofficial capacity.”
“Does that mean I can be the boss over him?”
Heath couldn’t hold back a grin. “You could give me advice and be number two boss. How does that sound?”
“Can I ’cide things? Like if he’s gotta go asleep?”
“You can help me decide.” At her look of disappointment, Heath quickly added, “You helped me decide today. And you’re not even his honorary guardian yet.”
“Would I be ’portant?”
Gazing down at her, it almost frightened Heath to admit exactly how important. After learning what he just had about Meredith, he knew that caring so deeply about mother or child wasn’t exactly the smartest move he’d ever made. “Absolutely,” he said, his voice gone husky with emotion. “More important than you’ll ever know. Taking care of a dog is a lot of work, and sometimes it requires time I really can’t spare. Until I get this matter about his biting that man settled with the county, I’ll have to leave him in his kennel while I’m working. He’ll need looking after. It’d be a big load off my shoulders if I had a helper. Someone to check his water and play with him and take him for walks on his leash. Or to take him to her house for a visit so he doesn’t get lonesome. You could tie him in your backyard while you were outside playing.”
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