“You must have moved when you were pretty young.”
“I moved when you were pretty young,” he teased.
“You aren’t that much older than I am.”
“How ’bout I tell you after the first kiss?” There was no reason not to tell her how old he was. But she was so cute when he razzed her—about anything. Now she sputtered.
“My mother definitely warned me about boys like you.”
“And you should listen to your mother.”
He sank his teeth into his own piece of pizza, and the cheese and sauce seared into the roof of his mouth. “Dang!” He dropped what was left of the piece onto the plate and reached for his Coke.
“Ouch.” She leaned forward. “Burned your mouth?”
“I thought I’d cooled it enough.” He reached for his Coke.
“You can’t be very old or wise if you don’t know to bite into hot pizza.”
He laughed at her prying, holding his hand to his mouth to keep in the cold pop cooling the burn. “Sneaky as a weasel stealin’ eggs, aren’t you?” he said when he’d swallowed.
Jill’s laughter bubbled free yet again. “Does everyone from Kentucky talk like that?”
“Prestons from Kentucky do.”
“Your family sounds close.”
“We have our issues like every family does. Told you Daddy and I didn’t always see eye to eye. He’s hanging on by his fingernails to a lifestyle that’s going extinct, but don’t get me wrong, he’s a good man, too. We’ve made peace over the years.”
“So, you went to Memphis to do what work?”
The light atmosphere sank into the darkness of reality. Just as with his age, there was no reason not to tell her what he did—what he’d fought so hard to become all those years ago.
I’m a doctor.
It was the truth. But he could hear her inevitable praise and the questions that would follow. Everyone had a doctor-god complex before learning the realities of the profession.
What kind of doctor was he? What kind of clinic did he work at? Why was he here?
Why was he running away from such an important, fulfilling job?
And he’d have only one truthful answer he could give. Because Tiana was dead. And it was his fault.
He didn’t know the answers to those questions. And he’d made the pact with himself before leaving Memphis. He wouldn’t relive any of what had happened for anyone else until he could do Tiana justice in the telling. He hadn’t even told Poppa everything. The story he’d fabricated, vague as it was, was his only protection. Not even an earnest woman, with eyes that seemed at this moment as if they could swallow his fears and heal the pain, would hear the truth.
“I worked with a nonprofit,” he said, the words still careful on this first time through the half-truth. “They help administrate homeless shelters, boys’ and girls’ clubs, soup kitchens. I’m a professional …” He scratched at his ear and then shrugged. “A professional volunteer.”
“You’re a crusader. That’s cool.”
He literally snorted. She used the word as a compliment. His brother Brody never meant it in such a positive way.
“I,” he said, picking out a piece of pizza with deliberate care, “was a grunt. A drone. And it was time for a change. But now you. Near as I can tell you have about twenty jobs.”
For a moment she frowned at the change of subject, and then she, too, shrugged. “Two jobs and school. I stay busy, but it isn’t twenty jobs worth of bad.”
“Vet school, though. That’s impressive. Have you always wanted to be a vet?”
“Never, at least early on. I just liked working in a vet clinic. Ben Thomlinson, my boss, has been the champion of vet school. It took him years to convince me.”
“Are you glad he did?”
“I am. I think I’d be good at it—like Ben has always said I would. I have a standing job offer from him for the day I graduate. And you heard how happy it would make my workaholic mother.”
“Are you worried about what your workaholic mother thinks?”
She frowned. “Of course. And about what Ben thinks. The same as you being worried about your grandfather.”
“Touché. All I meant is that I watched you pretty closely today. You’re a natural teacher. What’s would be wrong with that, for example?”
“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong with wanting to make the U.S. Equestrian Team either, despite what my mother thinks.” She met his eyes, and the rich, deep brown of hers, along with a tiny, self-conscious grin tugging on the corner of her mouth, slammed him with the attraction that was becoming too familiar. “Why do you think I want for that to happen? Serve her right.”
This time, Chase bit his pizza carefully, letting his tongue judge the heat before taking the bite.
“There,” he said. “That’s the damn-the-torpedoes spirit I’ve seen in you from the start. That’s what’ll take you wherever you want to go. Only you can decide when to listen to the people around you. Sometimes you just need to listen to yourself.”
“Who are you really? A Triumph-riding psychologist?”
“Hardly. Just someone with no opinions,” he replied. “And you don’t need any more opinions, so c’mon, eat up. If I’m going to book that room at Hotel Carpenter, I should check with management before they close the front door.”
“Heck, if that happens, I am authorized to act on behalf of management.”
“I always say, life’s about who you know.” He winked, glad to be through the reality check unscathed, and raised his glass in a salute.
“ISN’T THIS THE same road where I found you in a ditch?” Chase peered over the steering wheel at the road, dark since they’d stretched dinner until after ten o’clock.
“Good memory.”
He tapped his temple. “You don’t forget your first rescue.”
He glanced at her pretty profile, amazed at how protective, excited, guilty, and plain old turned-on like a teenager he felt around her. Yet the unconscious, sexy sweetness she exuded also fueled guilt that had burgeoned at dinner. He had no business getting close to her, not with the past he’d refused to reveal. But he was stuck with the Connery job for now. And her radiant personality, along with the anticipation of hearing what unexpected thing she’d say next, made it impossible to keep his distance.
“Stop! Stop!” Her sudden cry sent a surge of panic into his bloodstream. Her face pressed against the passenger window and she cupped her eyes with her hands. “Chase, Stop!”
He jammed on the brakes and steered The Creature to the shoulder. “What the—?”
Jill was out the door before he’d come to a full halt.
He was gonna strangle her. This kind of unexpected wasn’t what he’d meant. Grumbling, he got out and found Jill squatting behind the truck with an outstretched arm.
“C’mere, sweetheart. Come on, baby. It’s okay.” Her voice had taken on the same soft cadence she’d used on the bird Cotton. She looked over her shoulder. “Get low,” she whispered. “He’s nervous. Or she.”
Chase hunkered into a full squat. Peering past her hand, he saw the black-and-white dog. It sat just off the road, head lowered, eyes unblinking.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s her. Him. The dog.”
“Dog?” He paused. Then he understood. “Hold on. The dog you went into the ditch for?”
“Exactly. He’s got no collar, and he’s filthy, but I don’t think he’s hurt.”
The dog had a delicate black head with a white stripe that ran between two huge, amber, Border collie–like eyes, a white chest with long, slender legs like a pointer, and flared, pointy-tipped black ears shaped like bat wings. Chase’s heart melted in spite of himself, and he held out his hand alongside Jill’s. To his shock, the dog stood and made its way slowly to him, tail wagging between its legs. Once he touched its head, the tail came out from its fearful position, and the gentle eyes warmed and brightened.
“It’s a girl,” Jill said. “And she likes you!
”
The dog put her nose in Jill’s hand.
“And you.” Chase scratched along the mutt’s slightly bony spine, and she arched into his touch. She let Jill fondle her crazy little ears. “What the heck do we do with her?”
“I can’t leave her; she looks so thin and hungry. Plus she’s still here, right where she was yesterday. Doesn’t that say we were meant to find her?”
“I don’t know about that.”
“We have to take her home. Tomorrow I can bring her to the clinic and have one of the small animal vets look at her. But …” She hesitated, biting her lower lip. “You might not want to get involved. This will have to be covert.” Her eyes caught his with a warning twinkle.
“Okay …” He waited for her explanation.
“My mother does not like dogs and hates them in the house.” She sighed, letting the stray lick her hands. “My dad had a dog, but it had to live outside.”
“You’re saying what? We have to sneak the dog past your mother?”
“Pretty much.” She looked up at him sheepishly. “You can run now. I’ll hold no grudges.”
“Heck, honey, what’s the worst that can happen to me? I won’t get the room.”
“The room!” She scratched excitedly at the dog’s batwing ears, and the lithe little body wriggled in pleasure. “She can stay in the guesthouse. Mom won’t be going in there tonight.”
“I … suppose that’s true.”
“Last chance to back out.”
He laughed, resigned. “What kind of a friend would I be to abandon you now?”
A smart one, he thought, but didn’t say so out loud.
Chapter Ten
THE DOG WEIGHED fifty pounds tops, but with her shoulder still painful Jill couldn’t quite get herself and the dog into her truck alone. She offered to drive, but Chase insisted the job of holding the mutt fell to her and hoisted the little stray onto Jill’s lap. Once they were all safe in the truck, it became immediately clear the dog had been somewhere other than civilization for a long time.
“Whoo-eee. She stinks enough to kick a rat off a gut pile.”
“Eeew, that’s disgusting.” Jill’s laughter shook the dog, and the odor of dank hair wafted through The Creature’s interior.
“We aren’t gonna hide the fact we had a critter in that room if the dog smells like this all night.”
“And all the guest house has is a shower. Not too good for bathing a dog.”
“Let me know when you’ve got a plan, Miss Greenpeace. You’re head of rescue operations. I’m just the driver, and I like it that way.”
“Gosh, thanks a ton.”
No interior lights shone when they pulled into driveway close to 10:30 p.m. The Creature’s windows were fully down and the dog sat on Jill’s lap with her head hanging ecstatically out in the wind.
“Did we put ’em all to bed?” Chase asked.
“Doubt we’ll be that lucky,” she replied. “Mother reads before turning out the light. Dee could be anywhere.”
“We could give the dog a shower in my room.”
“We could, I’ve done dog showers before. Got a bathing suit with you?”
“Why would I need one? It’s your dog. You’ve saved it twice now.” His lip lifted in the now-familiar curled-lip smirk, and it made her laugh. She was back in high school again, sneaking in after curfew, and suddenly having the most fun she’d had in months.
“If I’m in charge then she gets a proper bath. All you have to do is help me sneak her into the bathroom upstairs. Got any experience as a cat burglar?”
“I stole my share of apples when I was a kid, but I’ve never broken something into a house before.”
“Heck, I’ve been sneaking animals into the house all my life. Mostly bugs and baby rabbits and stuff.”
“Then why are we worried?”
“I didn’t say I was usually successful.”
“Great.”
One light over the sink softly illuminated the kitchen when Chase carried the pungent dog into the house. With her finger against her lips, she ushered Chase up the stairs and peered down darkened halls for a clear coast.
“C’mon,” she whispered. The dog gave a tiny whine and Jill wrapped her fingers gently around her muzzle. “Shhh, baby. Don’t get yourself tossed out now. Here.” She held the bathroom door open. “Stick her in the tub, and I’ll get some towels.”
The only towels she’d get away with using were from her mother’s rag pile, and the two she selected would have been decent in almost any other home. A line of light shone from beneath Elaina’s bedroom door, but she was as far from the bathroom as any room on the floor. Dee’s light right next door was more worrisome.
“Everyone’s still awake.” She knelt with Chase beside the tub. “This has to be the quietest dog bath we’ve ever given.”
“Not a problem.” His whisper came close enough to touch her cheek. “Since it’ll be the first dog bath for me. If the farm dogs needed cleaning, we threw ’em in the creek.”
“You did not.” She muffled her laughter in one arm.
“Might turn a hose on ’em if they refused to swim.”
She slapped at Chase, wincing when the turning motion tweaked her shoulder. “Stop it.”
“You oughta be the one taking a hot bath.”
“Is that your official prescription, Doc?” She eyed him in exasperation.
The grin fled his face, and his arm froze on the faucet knob. “Just making sure,” he said quickly, and the moment passed before she could wonder about it out loud.
With the first spray of water it was clear the dog wanted none of it.
“Whoa, there, baby.” Chase grasped the wet, scrambling animal tightly, and Jill took over the sprayer. “We aren’t gonna hurt you.”
In a scrabble of toenails against porcelain, the dog attempted her escape. Chase managed to keep her in the tub, but barely.
“She’s slippery as greased owl shi— Oops, sorry.” He laughed when Jill swiped at his arm again. “C’mon, girl, let’s get this done.” His voice soothed, and the dog stopped fighting if not shivering.
Jill squeezed a bead of fruity shampoo from a pink bottle along the dog’s back. With her good arm she worked soap into the short, wet hair. The suds turned brown and then black.
“Yuck,” she said.
As the dog resigned itself to its fate, Chase released it with one hand and scrubbed along with Jill. Several times he brushed over Jill’s knuckles, the back of her hand, or her fingers and appeared oblivious when it happened. But with every touch the room and her cheeks grew warmer. The unexpected knock on the door sent her heart into her throat.
Chase grabbed her soapy hand. “Don’t panic,” he whispered.
“Jill? Are you in there?”
Dee. Jill’s pulse danced in chaotic circles between her nerves and the thrills scooting around her belly. She took a calming breath. This was silly. She was a grown woman in her own bathroom, and this was just a dog.
“I’m fine, Dee,” she called.
“I’m not deaf or stupid,” her sister called in a hoarse whisper. “I can hear both of you. What’s going on?”
“We’re naked in the shower, Dee. For crying out loud.” Jill reluctantly pulled her hand from Chase’s and wiped it on one of the towels. In three steps she opened the door a body’s width, reached for Dee’s bathrobe sleeve, and yanked her into the bathroom. Her sister blinked.
“Hullo, Dee,” Chase said, slightly preposterous-looking in his Wildcats T-shirt soaked down the front and his arms full of pitiful, wet dog.
“What the crap? What is it with you two and washing things?”
“Dee, shhh?” Jill begged. “This is the dog I almost hit yesterday. She was still on the road tonight, and I couldn’t leave her. I’ll take her to the clinic tomorrow, but she reeked so badly we couldn’t let her wander through the house.”
“Elaina will murder you.”
“Unless we can get her to the guesthouse for the nigh
t. C’mon, it’s not her fault.”
“Jillian? Deirdre?” Their mother called from the hallway. The jig was up. “What’s the fuss?”
Dee fixed her eye on Jill with a superior smile. “Nothing,” she called back. “Jill’s washing dirty horse boots in the tub again.”
Jill’s breath left in a whoosh.
“For goodness’ sake, Jill, can’t you wash that horrible stuff at the barn?” her mother called. “Clean out that tub thoroughly.”
“I will.”
The bedroom door down the hall closed with a solid click.
“Well done, Miz Dee,” Chase said.
“Yeah, thanks.” Jill said sheepishly. “I owe you one.”
“Oh, you bet you do.” Dee studied the full scene. “I didn’t do this for you. You were right, she’s a cute little thing, and she doesn’t deserve Elaina’s wrath.” Dee reached out one forefinger and ran it down the dog’s white striped face.
“I still appreciate it.”
When the dog was finished, Dee and Chase got her wrapped into towels while Jill struggled to clean every speck of dirt and strand of hair from the tub. Once she was satisfied it would pass Elaina’s inspection the next morning, Chase picked up the dog again. Dee kept watch.
She’d definitely owe her. Deirdre Carpenter didn’t do her sister favors for free. Ever.
They let the dog go in the small main room of the guesthouse. She shook vigorously and scooted back and forth between Chase and Jill as if she couldn’t decide who her favorite was.
“I need to go find her something to eat,” Jill said. “She at least needs water.”
The little house was stocked with bare necessities—plates and utensils, pots and pans, a few bakeware items. Jill found a square cake pan and filled it half full of water. The dog lapped it nearly dry in two minutes. Jill filled it again and the dog finished over half.
“You were parched clear through, weren’t you, pooch?” Chase scratched her wing ears.
“She looks like a little cockeyed angel,” Jill said. “Are you a little angel dog? Or do you just have angels looking out for you?”
“Sounds like Poppa.” Chase gave a yawn and stretched his legs long on the floor, where he sat with the dog nearly in his lap. “Says it’s perfectly true everyone has angels. Don’t know that I’ve ever heard him weigh in on whether it applies to dogs.”
Rescued by a Stranger Page 11