by Skye Taylor
Ben continued telling the dog the story of Ron Davis. It didn’t matter that Kip couldn’t understand. He understood the reassuring sound of Ben’s calm voice, and that’s what mattered.
“So then he got himself a service dog. He went off to this place in Florida where they train dogs, smart dogs just like you, to help these soldiers out. Kind of like guarding their back, if you know what I mean.”
Kip raised his head from Ben’s chest and plopped his butt between Ben’s feet. Ben ruffled his fur.
“So anyway, I got this idea. Actually, it was Mike’s idea. Not all the dogs we breed and train make it into police work. They’re not all as good as you were.” He grabbed Kip’s head between both hands and ran his fingers through the dog’s fur, down the sides of his neck and back. Kip thumped his tail against the sand.
“It occurred to me, this might be the perfect answer for you if you end up not going back to police work.”
Kip thumped his tail once, then looked back down the beach in the direction they’d come. He was over his fright at the firing of the gun. Ready to go home. So was Ben. Meg would be home by now for sure. Ben got to his feet and dusted the sand off his jeans. He took the lead off Kip and coiled it up.
“Let’s go home, shall we?”
Kip bounded down the beach. Ben followed, still thinking about the plan to train service dogs.
After Ron had returned from a four-week stay in Ponte Vedra, Florida, accompanied by a happy-looking mutt wearing a camouflage vest and a bright red bandana, the change in Ron had been incredible. Instead of hiding out in his room over his aunt Emmy Lou’s antique shop, he was more likely to be in the shop greeting customers with Lola glued to his side. Or out walking along Jolee Road waving at friends and acquaintances. Ron’s favorite hangout had become Joel’s Diner, one of the busiest places in Tide’s Way. Always with Lola at his side.
When the vest was off, Lola was full of mischief and play, but once it was on, she was all business, guarding Ron’s back and restoring his ability to function in the world around him. Lola had been a rescue from a shelter according to Ron. They had saved each other, he liked to say. Ron had even gotten a job and was enjoying his work driving a delivery truck for the Wilmington Star with Lola riding as his co-pilot.
Ben could train dogs to do that. There were always a few dogs that didn’t end up qualifying for K-9 work, but they were still smart, healthy animals. And there were plenty of shelters around with too many good dogs who just needed a life outside of a cage and someone to care about. He and Mike had already begun making plans. But first they needed to enlarge the kennel to provide space for the new program. And another building to house the veterans who came to train with their new companions.
Ben had applied for a second mortgage, or he would be applying for one as soon as he got Meg’s signature on the paperwork. He hadn’t told her about the new venture yet, though. There hadn’t seemed like a good moment to bring it up. She hadn’t once visited the kennels since she’d come home, and he wasn’t sure why. She used to be one of his best trainers in her spare time. And she’d kept his books for him. Maybe he’d bring it up tonight.
He called Kip to heel when he reached the path back through the dunes. A few minutes later they passed the old anchor guarding the beach and arrived back at the truck. Ben unlocked the door, and Kip leapt up onto the seat. Ben went around and climbed into his own seat, then looked across the cab at the dog.
He had considered the possibility that even if Kip could not return to police work, he might be a perfect candidate for a service animal. But that wouldn’t work if he continued to cringe at the sound of gunfire. Loud, unexpected noises were exactly the sort of thing good service dogs protected their wounded warriors from.
Ben ruffled the dog’s fur. “What are we going to do with you, Kip?”
Chapter 11
BEN DID LIKE THE bright teal dress. He’d first commented on it while it was still hanging shapelessly on the hanger. But if the appreciative gleam in his eye was anything to go by, he especially liked her in it. She’d been busy straightening the boys’ ties and getting them out the door, or Ben would probably have grabbed an opportunity for a hands-on demonstration of his approval. But that treat was still ahead of them, once the ceremony was over and the party began. The thought turned her on.
And thankfully, distracted her from the claustrophobic feeling of being seated on the groom’s side of the church, only two pews from the front. It had been years since Meg had been in the big church downtown, and it was bigger and more overwhelming than she remembered.
The back of her scalp twitched uncomfortably. Escape was impossible. With Rick and Evan on either side of her, she was stuck in the middle of the row. Her sister-in-law Kate’s family was to her left, and Jake’s formidable godmother, Ben’s Aunt Catherine, was on her right, blocking any speedy exit should panic overtake her. It would have been nice to have Ben’s presence for security, but even that was out of reach. He was one of Jake’s groomsmen.
You’re not in a war zone anymore, she chided herself sternly. Get a grip. Think about dancing with Ben at the reception. Don’t think about two hundred people packed in behind you.
Meg glanced across the aisle toward the row of pews at the far right side of the big basilica. Three smartly dressed older ladies whom Meg never met were probably from the guild in charge of preparing the altar and arranging the flowers. Several more people Meg didn’t know sat right behind them, but Emmy Lou Davis was seated right up front. Emmy Lou loved weddings, and she always managed to snag a seat with a good view wherever she went.
Meg’s eye went to the man sitting next to Emmy Lou. She didn’t recognize him at first. Then she did. Good God! Emmy Lou’s nephew was even thinner than Meg was and the ravages of war even more obvious on his face. Meg hadn’t seen Ron Davis since high school. His brother Mike worked in Ben’s kennels, and he’d kept Ben and Meg informed about Ron’s military career. But the reports Mike had shared hadn’t prepared Meg for this gaunt shell of a man. Ron had been a linebacker for the high school football team and must have weighed nearly twice what he did now.
Then Meg noticed the dog.
Again, the hair on her scalp prickled. The mixed breed dog clearly had a lot of lab in her. She had the kind of face that usually included a lolling tongue and a friendly welcoming expression. But at the moment, the dog was hyperalert. Her floppy ears were pricked forward at attention, and her eyes were sharply vigilant. She wore a vest with the words, Please ask to pet, and Service Dog stenciled clearly on the side along with a number of patches Meg couldn’t make out.
“That’s Ron’s new service dog,” Ben whispered, leaning across his Aunt Catherine to put a hand on Meg’s shoulder. Meg nearly jumped out of her skin. She hadn’t seen Ben approach. “I’ve been meaning to tell you about Ron. And Lola. I saw you checking them out.”
Meg swallowed hard and tried to regain her sense of calm. “What about Ron? Is Lola the dog?”
“Later.” Ben gave her a quick kiss. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Gotta go.” He gave his aunt a kiss as well and then strode to the front of the church to join Jake and the rest of his groomsmen.
Trying to calm her jangled nerves, Meg studied the four men standing to the right of the priest. They were so alike in appearance, yet so different in personality and life story. Jake was the youngest, the baby of the family. Spoiled by his siblings growing up, he’d made some pretty big mistakes when he was in his teens, yet when he’d had to, he’d grown up into the kind of man any mother would be proud of.
Ben was the quietest and the most patient of the brothers. Ben’s twin Will was the garrulous, outgoing half of the duo. They looked so alike it fooled almost everyone, even those who knew them, until one of them opened his mouth.
Philip, the oldest of the four brothers, was Jake’s best man. He’d joined the Marines two days aft
er graduating from high school and had spent most of his adult life in one overseas post or another. He had a reputation with the ladies, but according to Ben, had never found the one he wanted to settle down with. Looking at him now in his dress uniform, it was easy for Meg to see why women vied for his attention. His height and long legs set off the bold blood stripe down the side of his blue trousers, and his chest was certainly broad enough for the sea of colored ribbons decorating it.
In less than a week he’d be going into harm’s way again. Meg’s heart shuddered at the thought. Where did her mother-in-law find the strength to love him and then let him go? Again and again? Meg looked down at her own sons and knew it must be the hardest thing Sandy Cameron ever did.
As she glanced back up and caught Ben watching her, she had a sudden revelation. If it was hard to let your son go off to war, what was it like to let your wife go? What had it been like for Ben while she was away? Somehow that aspect of her career had never struck her so poignantly. It was one thing to be the one going into harm’s way, but what was it like to be the one left behind? Suddenly Ben’s patience with her, his unstinting love, and his support seemed so much more than she could ever deserve or live up to.
Ben pursed his lips, then mouthed the words I love you, but a frown clouded his brow.
He’s worrying about me. Meg forced a bright smile onto her face and blew him a kiss.
THE WEATHER BEING nice and the area around the altar being limited, photos of the entire family together had been saved for the riverside gardens at the reception venue. Meg didn’t envy the photographer. She didn’t envy herself, either. She was squashed in between Ben and his sister, her sons and two nieces fidgeting in front of her, and the rest of the groomsmen so close behind she could feel Will’s tuxedo brushing against the back of her dress. But this was family. She was safe here. She forced herself to relax and glanced around at the happy faces jockeying to find their place in the family photo.
The Camerons were a handsome lot. Jake had never looked so happy as he cradled two-month-old Molly in the crook of one arm, and Molly’s mom, his new bride Zoe, tucked securely against his side.
Jake’s daughters, with grins as wide as their dad’s, crowded in front of the happy couple. To Zoe’s right, her equally big family jostled for their place in the family photo: her dignified white-haired father, her sister and maid of honor, four handsome black-haired brothers, one wife, one fiancée, and more aunts and uncles and cousins than Meg could count. Now there’s a challenge, Meg thought. Just try getting this whole big crowd to smile at the same time.
“Say cheese,” someone called out. Everyone dutifully muttered the magic word and smiled. As soon as the moment had passed and the photographer nodded his approval, the cluster broke apart like it had exploded. The kids all hurtled toward the tables laden with appetizers of every sort where other guests were already helping themselves.
“They’re eager to check out what’s been laid on for refreshments,” Ben chuckled in Meg’s ear.
“I’m surprised you aren’t right on their tail,” Meg shot back. Ben was always hungry, and it had been almost three hours since lunch.
“I can wait.” He slid his hand around her waist. “Did I tell you how much I like your dress?” He pulled her around to face him, his hands warm and exciting through the silky fabric.
“You did.” She grinned up at him, feeling more relaxed than she’d felt all day. “But if you keep touching me like that, I can’t answer for the consequences.”
Ben drew her closer until their bodies were touching. He winked as he lowered his head and then kissed her with deliberate thoroughness. “Like that?”
“Benjamin. Joseph. Cameron!” she gasped, trying to catch her breath. It sure was easy to get her turned on lately. Was that normal? Was she normal? They were in the middle of a big family wedding, for Pete’s sake, in one of the most posh venues in downtown Wilmington, and all she could think of was jumping Ben’s bones.
Ben glanced beyond her. When he looked back down at her, he winked. “Think you can get your mind out of the sack for a moment? There’s someone I want you to talk to.” He gave her butt one last suggestive pat then set her free.
“I wonder who put my mind there?” she quipped, trying to collect her thoughts and calm her racing pulse.
“Me, I hope. Come on.” He held out his arm.
Meg took the offered elbow, glad for something to hold onto. After more than a year in combat boots, she was out of practice in heels. The cute little shoes the clerk at Francine’s had insisted were perfect for the dress had four-inch heels and nothing but thin, crisscrossed straps for support. Way out of Meg’s league, but she’d let herself be persuaded. She followed Ben’s lead, keeping her eyes on the ground, on the lookout for anything that would send her toppling into embarrassment.
Her heart clenched. There was that dog again. Sitting obedient and alert, wearing that distinctive vest. The dog watched their approach, glanced quickly up at the man to make sure Meg and Ben were welcome, then back to Meg and Ben.
“You remember Ron?” Ben glanced at Meg as he reached out to shake the other man’s hand.
“If it isn’t little Meggie,” Ron Davis said, shifting his free hand from Ben to Meg. “All grown up. And if you don’t mind my saying so, looking like a million bucks.”
Meg shook his hand, feeling confused and a little off-kilter. Ron sounded like the boy she’d gone to school with. Like the jock she’d once cheered on the football field. But he looked like someone who’d been a prisoner of war. Someone who would never sound that cheerful. There was no way she could repay the compliment.
“Thanks. I don’t mind you saying so, but Ben might.” She angled a look at her husband who was making a gesture, asking to pet the dog.
Ron gave the required permission. “Say hello, Lola.”
Ben squatted and took the dog’s proffered paw. “Good to see you again, Lola. I see you’re on your best behavior, taking care of your buddy.” The dog gave Ben’s cheek a lick. Ben patted her head, then straightened.
“Lola is a service dog,” Ben explained to Meg.
“I noticed.” Meg had noticed a lot more than the dog. She was still trying to balance the war-weary look of her former schoolmate with his cheerful, easy smile.
“Mike went on and on about how terrific Lola was and the difference it made in Ron’s life,” Ben continued as if he hadn’t heard the sarcasm in her voice. “I didn’t believe it until I ran into Ron at Joel’s.”
“I didn’t believe it either,” Ron added with a laugh. “At least I didn’t believe the difference a dog would make in my life until I tried it.” He looked directly at Meg then, and she saw a glimmer of the haunted soldier she’d expected earlier. “I was a total mess until I met this wonderful girl here.” He bent and gave the dog a quick hug.
“I heard you were wounded,” Meg said, trying to understand how a dog could make such a big difference.
“Yeah, that too. I got a medical discharge six months ago after nearly a year in rehab. But all that’s left of that is an artificial leg and a bit of a limp. I can live with that. It was the PTSD that nearly did me in. That’s what Lola helped with. But you don’t want to hear that sorry tale.”
Meg fought to find a small smile, even as her chest tightened. Too many soldiers with PTSD. She’d heard too many stories. Hers wasn’t nearly as disturbing, but right now she didn’t think she could cope with Ron’s or anyone else’s.
“Well, if she helps, then I’m glad you’ve got her,” Meg finally said.
“Say hi to the lady, Lola.”
Lola lifted her paw obediently. Meg could have sworn the dog was grinning. She hesitated. Another dog. Another sad soldier. The dog waited patiently. Finally, Meg reached down and took the dog’s paw, shook it briefly, and straightened.
“Shouldn’t we be headed into t
he reception?” she said to Ben. “They’ll be introducing everyone and expecting us to march in together. Like everyone doesn’t already know everyone anyway.”
“Well, the Callahans don’t know all the Camerons and vice versa,” Ben said, smiling. “It was good to see you, Ron. You coming in?”
“No,” Ron said a bit too quickly. “Lola and I are going to go check out the riverwalk. It’s not every day we get all the way to this side of town, and the day is perfect.” He gave Meg a hint of a salute and turned to walk away.
“So why did you want me to talk to Ron?”
“I wanted you to meet Lola.”
“Why?” Meg glanced back at the war-ravaged man limping toward the riverwalk with his dog.
“It’s an idea I had, but—you’re right about being on hand to get introduced.” Ben gestured to the now empty terrace. “I’ll tell you about it later.”
Chapter 12
MEG WOKE FEELING stiff and disoriented. Then sat up in a rush when she realized why. She’d been sleeping on the sofa. The quilt that had covered her slid down around her waist, and she had nothing on but her bra and her panties.
What had happened to all the tantalizing promises Ben made about how he was going to take her dress off a little bit at a time, then make love to her? He had removed the dress. But they hadn’t made love.
By the time they’d left the reception it was so late the boys had fallen asleep on the way home. Ben carried them in from the car and settled them into their beds one at a time, telling Meg she was next. Wandering into the living room to wait for the promised seduction, she’d pictured him removing the boys’ shoes and slacks, wrestling to get their spaghetti-limp arms out of their dress shirts, and pulling the covers up before kissing each on the forehead and closing their bedroom door.
The strappy high heels had begun to pinch hours earlier. By midnight they just plain hurt. She’d sagged down onto the sofa to remove them. When Ben still hadn’t appeared, she’d rolled down the pantyhose and discarded them as well. The important piece of clothing—the sexy blue dress—she’d left on for Ben to remove. But that’s the last thing she remembered.