by Skye Taylor
Kip lay curled in the middle of the room. He lifted his head when she stood up and watched her with an alert, unwavering gaze.
“Go back to sleep,” she hissed. “It’s too early to be up and about.”
Kip put his head back onto his paws but didn’t close his eyes.
Meg folded the quilt and draped it over the back of the sofa, then, carefully skirting the still watching dog, padded barefoot into the hall. On her way to the master bedroom, she detoured into the boys’ room. Evan burrowed down in a little ball with just the top of his head showing. Rick sprawled across his bed with the covers shoved aside and half on the floor. She tiptoed in and pulled the blanket back onto the bed and tucked it around her sleeping son. Then she went to find their father.
Ben slept exactly like his older son when there was no one else to share the king-sized bed. He sprawled diagonally across the expansive mattress. Blankets draped partially over the bottom half of his body and mostly on the floor. His blond hair, while so much lighter than his son’s dark locks, spilled over his forehead and into his eyes, just like Rick’s. The only difference in their position was that Ben was hugging Meg’s pillow to his chest.
For a moment, Meg stopped to wonder if Ben had slept hugging her pillow the entire time she’d been away. But then Ben stirred, and one eye opened.
“What time is it?” he asked sleepily.
“Four,” she answered, crossing to the bed. “Where’s my dress?”
“Dress?” Both eyes were open now.
“The blue dress? The one I wore to Jake’s wedding?”
Ben smiled slowly. “I hung it up.”
Meg glanced toward the closet and saw that he had, indeed, hung the dress up. He’d arranged it carefully on the padded hanger it had come on and hooked it over the closet door.
“I didn’t think you wanted to sleep in it,” Ben murmured, his voice still heavily laced with sleep.
“No, but I was looking forward to having you remove it.” Meg lifted the sheets and blanket off the floor just as she’d done in Rick’s room and climbed in beside Ben.
“I did remove it,” he reminded her as he rolled onto his side and gathered her into his arms. “You just weren’t awake to enjoy the process.”
“You were going to tell me about the dog, too.”
“It’s four in the morning. Unless you’re still in a mood to make love, then let’s go back to sleep. We can talk about dogs in the morning.” He ran one hand provocatively down her side, past her waist to her thigh where he let it rest, the heat of it radiating into her.
“Now there’s an idea . . .” She moved to reciprocate.
Abruptly, a loud beep erupted from the pager on Ben’s side of the bed.
Meg froze, her heart jerking into panic.
“Damn!” Ben rolled away to shut the pager off.
Ben had taken a hiatus from service as a volunteer fire fighter while Meg was out of the country, but this weekend, he’d stepped in to cover for Jake while he was on his honeymoon.
Ben rolled back and kissed Meg on the neck right below her ear. “Hold that thought. I’ve got to go, but I’ll be back. Promise.”
He rolled off the other side of the bed and stood up. Meg’s heart slowed its initial frantic pace, but adrenaline still flowed in her veins, leaving her flushed and breathing hard.
“Be careful, Ben.” Meg sat up and watched her husband thrust his legs into a pair of jeans.
“I’m always careful.” He grabbed a T-shirt out of his drawer and pulled it over his head. Then he shoved his feet into the old boat shoes he saved to wear down to the firehouse and headed for the door. But before he got there, he turned back, came over to the bed, and pulled Meg into his arms for a hug. “Keep the bed warm for me.”
BEN HADN’T RETURNED while Meg was still in bed. Nor by the time Meg and the boys were ready for church. He still hadn’t returned when she arrived home again after mass. The boys had been invited to spend the afternoon with friends, and Meg had the house to herself.
She made herself a sandwich and sat down to go over the paperwork for resigning her commission again. After staring at it awhile and still not sure what she was going to do, she pushed it aside.
Kip got up from the welcome mat by the back door and came to sit by her stool. Meg gazed down at him. If he wanted out, he’d be staring at the door, not her. She checked his dishes, but both were still half full.
“What?” she asked the dog.
Kip blinked.
“If you’re looking to play, you’ll have to wait for Rick and Evan to come home.”
Kip watched her intently.
Meg started to reach out to pet him then drew her hand back. He looked so much like Scout. That’s not his fault, the logical side of her brain reminded her. This time she did touch the dark head.
A pang of longing, grief, and guilt shot through her. She pulled her hand back. “It’s not your fault,” she said aloud to the dog. “But you’re not him. I’m not ready for this.”
She turned her back on the dog and pulled another stack of papers out of the folder of things that needed taking care of.
She owed her niece a check for the dance marathon she’d participated in for breast cancer. Ava’s best friend’s mother had organized the event, and Ava’s little group had danced non-stop for five hours. Time to pony up, but the checkbook was out in Ben’s desk. She hadn’t been out there since she got back.
Suck it up, Marine. Time to get past this and get on with your life.
Meg slid off the stool and marched purposefully toward the door.
Almost as soon as she opened the door to the building housing Ben’s dogs, the breeding and whelping rooms, and an indoor training ring, Ben’s favorite stud Columbo ambled over to greet her. His entire body wiggled in welcome, and he made happy little noises in his throat. A year ago, she’d have knelt right down and gathered the eager animal into her arms and let him lick her face. But right at the moment, it was all she could manage to pat him on the head to acknowledge his exuberant welcome. He didn’t seem put off by her cool greeting as he followed her into Ben’s office with his tail wagging.
Ben’s desk was as meticulously neat as he kept everything inside the house. She plunked down in the battered old chair he loved and pulled out the middle drawer, grabbed the household checkbook, and dropped it onto the desktop. Quickly she wrote out the check, logged it into the register, and shut the book again. Then she leaned back and pulled the drawer open to replace it, but before she could put the book back, she noticed a thick sheaf of important looking documents with the masthead of the local bank.
She drew the packet of papers out and replaced the checkbook. Then she began reading through them.
MEG POUNCED AS soon as Ben let himself into the kitchen. “Are we in money trouble?”
Ben rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the smoke and exhaustion brought on by twelve hours on his feet fighting a nasty warehouse fire.
“Of course, not.” He shrugged out of his windbreaker and hung it on the hook. Then he shucked his battered boat shoes and parked them beneath the jacket. “Why would you think we were?”
“Because I found these in your desk.” She shoved a sheaf of papers at him.
His eyes stung, and his body ached. He glanced down at the papers she thrust into his hands. The mortgage application and accompanying documents he’d left in his desk. The project he hadn’t found the right time to bring up yet. “Can we talk about this later? I really need to get cleaned up and get some rest.”
“I want to know why we’re applying for a second mortgage,” she insisted, ignoring his request.
Can’t she see I’m ready to crash? My feet are being sucked down like I was walking in quicksand, and my head is packed with cotton wool.
“I thought the kennel was maki
ng money. It was when I left. What changed?”
“Nothing’s changed. We are making money.” Ben rolled his shoulders, trying to work out the kinks.
“Then why do we need to borrow more?”
“It’s all connected to Ron’s dog and the plan I have. I meant to talk to you about it last night, but you fell asleep.” God! What he wouldn’t give for a shower and a nap. His brain was numb with exhaustion. No way he had the energy to explain his plan so she’d see how great it was.
“So let’s talk about it now.” Meg’s voice was unusually strident. She wasn’t usually like this, and it confused him. Or maybe it’s me. Maybe I missed something, and I’m just too tired to remember.
“It’s a great plan, Meg. You’ll agree. I know you will, but I gotta get some sleep first. Please, can’t we discuss this later?”
“I’ve been home for more than two weeks. When were you going to tell me about the money issue? You can’t take a mortgage out without my signature, so if it’s all that important, I’d have thought you’d have brought it up before now.”
If only he could pull her into his arms and hug her and banish this angry stranger she’d turned into. But he stank of smoke, and she didn’t look like she would welcome a hug even if he wasn’t smoky and sweaty and disgusting.
He slumped onto a stool and set the paperwork on the counter. “I want to enlarge the kennels and set up a separate training facility.”
“For what?” Meg planted her hands on her hips.
“To train dogs like Ron’s dog, Lola.”
Meg opened her mouth to say something and then shut it again. A crease appeared between her eyes.
Ben rolled his head to ease the pain shooting up the back of his neck. “There are always dogs that don’t make the cut for police work. You know that.”
“Yeah, but what does that have to do with expanding? You usually find good homes for them.”
The unusual quietness suddenly penetrated Ben’s fog. “Where are the boys?”
“At Sam’s. Playing,” was all the explanation she offered. “What do washout dogs have to do with Ron and Lola and needing a second mortgage?”
“If you had seen Ron when he first got discharged you’d understand better, but it’s like this.” Tiredly, Ben launched into an explanation of programs that had cropped up all over the country, most of them non-profit and not run by any government entity. They trained dogs, many of them rescues, to become service dogs for veterans suffering from PTSD.
“Ron is like a new man,” Ben explained. “He was hiding out at his aunt’s house like a hermit until someone convinced him to give this program a try. His brother drove him down to Florida to a place in Ponte Vedra. He was there for four, maybe five weeks. I can’t remember exactly how long, but he came home a very different man than he’d been when he left. Ron’ll tell you he still has a long way to go, but, Meg, you wouldn’t believe the difference in him. It was the first time I’d seen Ron smile since he got out.”
“I still don’t get what that has to do with us and you wanting to borrow more money.” Meg folded her arms stubbornly across her chest and rested her hips against the kitchen counter. At least she didn’t look quite as aggressive as she had a few minutes ago.
“I want to try training the dogs who don’t become police K-9s to become service dogs instead.”
Meg’s brows rose. She glanced at Kip who’d been watching the entire heated exchange as if he’d been at a tennis match. “And dogs like Kip, too?”
“And dogs like Kip, too,” Ben agreed. “And probably a few from rescue centers as well. But I need a bigger facility. I need a place for the veterans to stay when they come to learn how to live with their dogs once we’re ready to pair them up. And for that I need money I don’t have.”
He had been so excited about this whole idea, but at the moment he was too tired to inject much enthusiasm into the argument. And Meg appeared totally dubious. It wasn’t like her to question his running of the kennel. Where is all this opposition coming from?
She shook her head again. “I don’t think this is such a good idea.”
“Don’t make your mind up until you have a chance to think about it.” Ben saw all his plans slipping away, but tired or not, he wasn’t about to give them up so easily.
“Thinking about it isn’t going to change my mind, Ben.” Meg shoved herself away from the counter and went to the sink, turning her back on him. For a moment, they just stood there, not speaking, not even engaging. She grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it. But then set it on the counter without drinking any of it.
“If I decide to get out of the military, I need to figure out what else I want to do with my life. I haven’t got another job lined up, and there won’t be a second paycheck until I do. We can’t afford to go borrowing more money right now.”
“We can afford it. Even if you don’t have a paycheck, we can afford it.” His head pounded with exhaustion, and his patience was wearing thin. “Please, let’s talk about this later. I really need a couple hours of shuteye. Then I’ll show you all the numbers, my working budget, and everything.” He got up off the stool and started for the door. Then he turned back and placed a hand on Meg’s shoulder. She stiffened under his touch, but he didn’t take his hand away. “This is really important, and I’d like to discuss it when I’m not so beat I can’t think straight. Can you, please, try to understand?”
She looked up at him with her mouth pressed into a thin, hard line. He didn’t kiss her. That look told him she wouldn’t let him if he tried. “I’ll see you in a bit.” He turned and walked out of the kitchen.
“I’m not going to change my mind.” Meg’s voice followed him down the hall.
Chapter 13
HER LEAVE WAS almost up, and Meg had an appointment with her CO at Lejeune. She didn’t know what to tell him. Extend her reserve service or put in for a discharge? What next?
What she’d told Margie about not wanting to pursue a career in police work had been true. Either as a Marine MP or in civilian law enforcement. She had just never put it into words before, and the realization once the words were out of her mouth had been a little shocking.
She should be talking to Ben about it instead of Margie, but somehow it all seemed tied up in not knowing what she did want to be. And admitting it to Ben would be like telling him everything he’d sacrificed for had been a waste of time. So she’d talked to Bobby instead. Bobby had advised her to look objectively at the toll her deployment had taken on her and Ben and the boys. With the country constantly stepping up to deal with ever-increasing threats and hotspots, there wasn’t much chance she’d stay home if she stayed in. Unless she managed to change her MOS. But that would require another whole commitment of service. Another whole span of years she couldn’t call completely her own. Or Ben’s.
But if she got out, then what?
Before she’d left for Iraq, Ben’s helper in the kennels had been an older man, past retirement age, but still hanging on to his part-time work with Ben and the dogs. When she hadn’t been on duty at the base, she’d taken up the slack. In what now felt like another lifetime, she’d loved being in the kennels, working with the dogs. Keeping Ben’s books for him. But Iraq had changed everything.
While she’d been gone, Marshall had decided it was time to retire and moved to Florida where he now lived with his sister in Fort Pierce. Ben had hired Mike Davis, and Mike had taken over not just Marshall’s place, but Meg’s as well. Just turned thirty, he was full of energy and ideas, and now that Meg was home, there seemed to be no need for her to help out anymore. Not that she felt like she was ready to go back to working with the dogs. But even if she wanted to, Ben didn’t need her.
Bobby had pretty much ordered her to level with Ben about her indecision. But then she’d found the mortgage paperwork, and they’d argued. Or at least she had. When
Ben had finally come in, dog-tired after fighting a fire for nearly twelve hours, she’d ignored the weary, red-rimmed eyes and slumped shoulders. She’d forged on, demanding answers. And then hadn’t liked the ones he’d offered.
After an evening of avoiding discussion on either issue, they’d gone to bed with an unspoken and uneasy truce between them and slept on opposite sides of the bed for the first time ever.
Which brought her right back to the unresolved question of what to do with herself if she left the military. What did she want? Even Bobby hadn’t been able to help there. Instead, he’d reminded her that she was part of a team, and she needed to share her concerns with the other half of that team. In other words, share her confusion with Ben.
But there was no way Ben could understand. He’d never left home. He’d never experienced the things she had. No way could he understand the guilt and nightmares. Or the anxiety that boiled up inside her every time she thought about Ben’s dogs.
Ben wouldn’t know what to say about her indecision either. He’d always known what he wanted in life, starting with her. Or maybe starting with that Mustang he’d been fixing up in her brother’s shop when they first met. He’d decided she was the woman he wanted to spend his life with even before she was a woman. He’d been her friend while he waited for her to grow up. He’d been a patient and careful lover, claiming her heart, her virginity, and eventually her hand in marriage.
Even when he was in college double majoring in business management and animal husbandry, the heavy load of coursework had been aimed at owning his own kennel and raising dogs for police work. He’d set his course and never looked back.
He just wouldn’t understand the current chaos in her mind.
Meg tried to recall the zeal she had felt all those years ago when she wanted to go into police work because of Bobby. Discussing it with Margie had been like telling a story about someone else. The passion that had once been there for Meg was gone. She felt like a raft with no sails, drifting on an uncertain sea of obstacles toward a goal she couldn’t see. Or to no goal at all.