"Okay, thank you,” Emmett said, pushing on the dogs to create a little bit of space.
Elfie took the hint and went back to her role as sentinel, but baby thought it was a game, and tried to nuzzle past Emmett's outstretched hand. "Enough, buddy," he said. "Let us have one minute together, huh? You guys are worse than kids.” Fiyero plunked back to down to the grass. “How’d the meeting with the dog coach lady go?"
"It wasn't a –" no. He wasn't going to get this off track. "What's going on, Emmett? You know I can't stand being lied to. Just tell me everything right now, and we can move on. Figure out what's wrong, and fix it.”
He looked at her, considering, and Zandra had no idea what was going through his head. Up until that morning she thought she knew him and that the problem was with the relationship and not with either of them specifically. She could have sworn that she could say what he was thinking at nearly any point. For a millisecond she wondered if things would ever be like that again, but quickly smashed that doubt. They were a great couple. They loved each other. They were good people.
But there he sat straight across from her, not next to her so he could be close, but facing her as if ready for a confrontation.
"Zandra, nothing actually happened."
He was about to say more but Zandra cut in. "Nothing actually happened? What the Sam Hill does actually mean?"
"I … I admit I shouldn't have been there.” He finally had the decency to look at least a little abashed.
"Stop right there, Emmett. Before you go on think very carefully about the story you want to tell me. And if the story you decide to tell me isn't 100% gospel truth …." She let the words hang in the air.
Emmett sucked on his teeth for a moment then reached out for Fiyero’s head, and dug into his ears while he thought. He kept his eyes on the dog. "Fine. I knew something might happen. I left my phone at the office so you wouldn't … be suspicious.”
And you parked in her garage, growled Zandra in her own head, to hide from me.
"I admit I had my shirt off—"
"And it wasn't because you spilled cheesecake on it!" Zandra was ready to throttle him. "I can't tell if you’re holding back because of shame, or because you're trying to paint a better picture of what really happened and making it up as you go." Zandra looked down at her phone to check the time, then looked up into her husband's eyes—which she wanted to gouge out at the moment—and said, "In three minutes I'm going inside to get ready for yoga. I've been more than patient and given you plenty of opportunity to explain, and I'm ready to open my arms and welcome you home, but you have to come meet me.” While she wanted nothing more than to fix the problem immediately, she felt like she deserved an hour or two to work through whatever he told her. Yoga always gave her a chance to center herself and commune with God, if people actually did that anymore, without the distraction of the outside world. "Three minutes, Emmett."
"I was too weak,” said Emmett. "Alright? Dawn had been dropping hints, reeling me in, and I didn't see it coming until it was too late. I can see that looking back. I should have let Jeff deal with her and handle the account from the first time I had that feeling about her. I’d say thank your guardian angels for pushing you or guiding you or whatever they did to get you over there this morning before it was too late, but I know you think these dogs are your guardian angels, and both of them are too dumb to do anything like that." He laughed lightly and gave Fiyero some more love.
Zandra dug her fingers into the thick grass and held on tight to avoid squeezing Emmett’s throat until his Adam's apple popped out of his mouth. He was laughing at her now? Not only was it the worst timing she could think of, the guardian angel belief was something she never told anyone because it was personal, and too close to her heart to risk being mocked.
Then she remembered that it actually was inspiration in the form of a gentle whisper that had come to her three times. Emmett didn't deserve to know about that. Once things started getting smoothed out between them she could admit it. As the tears slowly brimmed over and rolled down each cheek blazing a fresh trail of sorrow, Zandra forced out in a mild tone, "You have one minute."
Emmett's smile disappeared. Whether he picked up on her gravity, or it was the natural reaction of a man seeing a woman in tears, he grew solemn.
“I’m sorry you had to find me there, Zandra. I don’t know why things are different between us lately.” Emmett swallowed and looked directly into her eyes. “I will never let myself get into a situation like that again.”
Finally Zandra felt like she was getting truth. Oh how she loved that simmering dark gaze. Since he’d gotten home she had been frustrated, pissed off, and even a little disgusted by him, but those eyes and strong face still had the ability to melt her.
“Time’s up,” she said, hopping to her feet. “Good ending.” She reached out for him and pulled him to his feet.
“Why don’t you go to yoga few minutes late?” He put his hands on her hips. “Let’s go inside and make up.”
“No,” she said automatically, trying to figure out how he could be serious. She’d been ready to at least begin welcoming him back with a close hug, but had lost the desire to be even that close to him. She took a step back, letting his hands fall from her. “This is what’s going to happen. One, we are both going to come up with a list of three ideas of what we can change. Two, you are going to come to Fiyero’s coaching session tomorrow.” Even after he’d made fun of her she still felt like the dogs had guidance or healing powers or whatever else the true role of guardian angels was. “Three,” Zandra put her hands on his cheeks. “We are going to fall all the way in love again because we are so stinking perfect for each other!”
With a pat on his cheeks, Zandra turned to jog toward the house. She was still angry and hurt, but at least they had caught the problem relatively early and were both willing to work for their marriage.
Besides, they could have quite a good time making up once they settled all the details. That was definitely something for her to look forward to.
8
Cason watched the cutest little toddler he’d ever seen doing her best to balance as she walked across the Saltillo tiles of his newest client’s home. Business was up; this was his fifth new client of the week. Word was spreading about Canis Amare and possibly about him. Two of the new clients had requested him specifically.
The large orange tiles, huge wooden indoor beams along the ceilings, and the beehive fireplace of the Santa Fe style home didn't fit the Birmingham neighborhood or any of the suburbs of Detroit. But that wasn’t unusual for Cason’s clientele who could afford custom everything in their lives.
Baby Jane giggled as she came toward Cason who sat as unobtrusively as possible on the bench of the hearth in front of the beehive fireplace. She tripped on the uneven grout and went up on tiptoes then spun halfway around while swinging her arms and came to rest on two feet as she caught her balance like a gymnast just barely sticking a landing. The 180-turn had taken Cason out of her view and brought the front French doors into sight. Cason was forgotten as Baby Jane titled her momentum toward the front door. This would be the test.
Big T was resting on the front porch, just a giant lazy dog enjoying some cool cement on a warm day. He was a beauty of a dog, pure bred Rottweiler, and as imposing as any dog he'd ever met. Well, he’d give the Curtis’ French Mastiffs, Fiyero and Elfie, a run for their money.
Sitting there enjoying the cool shade of the porch, Big T looked downright cuddly. Baby Jane must have agreed because once she got him in her sight she made a beeline in his direction, as fast as her chubby little inexperienced legs would carry her. She reached the French doors with more momentum than she expected but was able to get her hands up and catch herself at a stop by slapping the glass with both hands.
All the fury of his bear-hunting ancestors came to life in Big T as he erupted from rest like a spring-loaded catapult. In zero seconds flat he was at the window snarling and snapping at the baby. Cason list
ened for clues in the dog’s snarl, but there was no play anywhere in Big T’s demeanor. Spittle flew against the glass and the door rattled on its hinges as the dog made small lunges forward intent on turning the baby into a chew toy.
Baby Jane did the opposite of what any sane human would do—she cracked up. The ferocious killing machine mere millimeters away from her face was nothing but a joke to her.
Even though he’d been told about the problem before even coming to the appointment, the ferocity surprised Cason. When he had arrived, the owner, Haley, and Big T were waiting in the front yard. She had been able to keep him calm with one hand lightly on his collar while Cason coolly gave them plenty of distance as he walked up the front steps and into the house. When Haley had let Big T go, he hadn’t come after Cason with any sign of protectiveness or retribution. He’d calmly walked alongside Haley and positioned himself on the porch for a nice little nap.
Yet now the dog was going after Baby Jane with the intensity of a hurricane.
"Yep, I see the problem.” Cason stood and walked to the French doors, arriving at the same time as Baby Jane's mother, Haley. "Leave her for just another second. I want to see if you can get Big T to calm down while Baby Jane is still in his face."
Cason and Haley were invisible to Big T who continued trying to snarl and snap his way through the glass even as she tried to talk him down. Many of the dogs Cason worked with just needed to fix irritating or destructive habits. But there was no room for error on this one. One mistake, one time letting the guard down, and this baby would be—
Cason didn't like to think about it. He’d seen the aftermath of that play out before. How detailed should he get for Baby Jane's mom? It had been too graphic to share everything, but if he didn't paint a clear enough picture and something happened to Baby Jane, he would feel responsible. No, he would be responsible.
Haley’s words had no effect whatsoever on Big T.
"Okay, I think that's enough.” Cason took a step back. "You can get her away from there now.”
Haley bent over to pick up Baby Jane and just about lost everything that her blouse and bra were supposed to be holding in. Cason diverted his eyes back to Big T.
Had Haley’s blouse been unbuttoned that far when he arrived? She was an attractive woman, and had either been born with surgically precise features and implausible dimensions, or had paid a lot of money for them.
Cason had avoided the big old ‘On’ switch that Haley presented—unknowingly or not—when she bent over like that, and apparently picking up the baby and removing it from the dog’s eye level was the ‘Off” switch for Big T. There was still a suspicious gleam in Big T’s eyes as he sat back on his haunches and looked through the glass at the baby.
Cason said, "I'm really glad you called me. Obviously one moment of inattention could be devastating for your family. I don't know how much I should go into detail, but I've seen what can happen between a German Shepherd and a two-year-old."
"Oh, that's horrible." Haley reached out a hand and put it on Cason's forearm. "Do you think anything can be done? Because if it comes between the baby and the dog, obviously …"
Cason looked back at Big T who had reverted to giant lazy dog sprawled out on the cool concrete. "I don't know yet. If there is any doubt at all, it's not worth the risk, but I need to get to know Big T better.”
“Well,” said Haley, walking over to deposit Baby Jane in a play crib of some sort, “if there is a fee for a rush job or no matter how many hours it takes, it’s worth it for us. I don’t know if you do any type of round the clock coaching, but if that’s a possibility, you are welcome to stay,” she licked her lips, “in the casita. That’s our guest house.”
Cason wasn’t sure if there was innuendo in that or not. He ignored it and said, “I can put in some extra hours, but hourly fee is the same. It works better to do an hour, three times a day rather than five hours in one clump together. I’ll come back today after my last appointment, if that works with your schedule.”
“My husband’s traveling, as usual, so I’m wide open to whatever works for you.” Her left hand came up and started fidgeting with the next button down on her blouse.
Cason wondered if she realized how much cleavage she was already showing.
Haley bit her lip then said, “Do you have time for a glass of wine before you have to run to your next appointment?” Her fingers continued playing with the button. It was a wonder how she could even hold her hand up with the giant rock on her ring finger. The button popped open under the pressure of what the blouse was holding in, and her eyebrows went up.
Okay then! Definitely innuendo. Cason reached for the front door and said, “I’m going to, uh, spend some time with Big T,” then stepped out onto the porch.
Snapping. Snarling. Biting.
Oh no. Big T.
Cason lifted his arm by reflex and felt the huge jaws clamp down and tear into his skin.
Haley screamed and charged outside.
“Calm!” urged Cason through gritted teeth. “Caaaalm,” he said to Big T, pulling slowly away and giving in to the dog.
Don’t fight, don’t start anything.
Big T released his arm and took a step back, both eyes still locked on Cason. The bite had been a warning, as was the glare. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.
“We’re all okay,” said Cason to both dog and owner. He stepped back a pace and Big T notched down yet another level.
Haley was frozen in the doorway and Cason held up his uninjured arm to keep her from coming out and escalating the situation again. He looked at the bitten arm and saw the first drops off blood pour out of the wound and drip to the ground.
“Would you get me something to wrap this with, Haley?”
“Yeah,” she looked around frantically. “Sure.” She started unbuttoning her blouse further.
“I think a dish towel would work better,” said Cason. “It’s not that bad.”
“Oh, right.” Haley glanced down at her buttons and had the decency to blush before ducking back inside.
As slowly as he could, Cason turned back to Big T, only glancing at him for a second or two, then casually looking away. “I’m sorry I got in your space, pal.” Something told Cason that Big T didn’t want to hurt him, or anybody for that matter. Cason turned to look out over the huge property. Big T settled onto his haunches and turned slightly toward the property as well.
“I think we’re going to get along just fine, Big T.”
“What do you mean?” stammered Haley, coming out of the door with a hand towel. “He tried to rip your arm off.”
“No,” said Cason. “I still need to get to know him a lot better but I can already tell he’s a decent sort.”
“But how can you ever trust him again?”
“Dogs are easy to trust. They tell you exactly where you stand and they stick with it.” Cason was tempted to scoot closer to Big T, but that would go directly against the boundaries the dog had clearly set. “Now humans, them you can’t trust. A human will lie to your face, lead you on, then go for the throat when you are most vulnerable.”
Settle down there, Cason told himself.
“I feel so bad,” said Haley. “Come inside and let me clean up your arm.”
Cason wasn’t planning on going back inside Haley’s house today, or ever as long as she was alone.
“It’s entirely my fault,” said Cason, mad at himself for the rookie mistake. “His only rule was that I respect his space and I barged in. I’m gonna run over to the urgent care. I’ll be back after six. Gonna hang out on the porch with Big T for a while.”
Before Haley could object, induce, or entice, Cason was down the steps calmly, keeping a lid on the excitement about working with Big T. He loved working with giant breeds, and after the big question mark surrounding that big, beautiful French Mastiff Fiyero, he needed a win.
He was glad the stupid mistake had happened in front of Haley instead of Zandra. While Haley made him uncomfortable with h
er forwardness, Zandra made him uncomfortable in an entirely different way. Where Haley was shallow and over-modified, Zandra was—
Ouch! Cason hit his arm on the truck door while climbing in.
Zandra was married. That’s what she was. Too bad, but it wasn’t just about to change simply because he wanted it to. The focus there was Fiyero.
Fiyero would take some real work.
9
Cason rolled up the maple-lined driveway of the Hutchinson’s house. Haley, as she had told him to call her. Maybe he should have phoned or texted before pulling in, but he hoped to just sneak in, spend some time with Big T, and leave. Plus, he didn’t need the stress she brought to the big dog.
Big T was already standing on the edge of the porch like some gothic lion guarding the estate of a James Bond villain. Earlier in the day, he had flown off the porch like a missile, making it very clear Cason was not welcome. Was there a chance the dog was inconsistent with his guard duties? Or was he getting used to Cason already? If Cason knew dogs as well as he thought he did, it was the latter.
Cason parked and climbed casually out of his pickup. Big T took a few steps off the porch, staring Cason down, but Cason refused to meet his glare, looking anywhere but at the dog. Out of the corner of his eye, Cason saw Big T visually back down and even sit down to watch. Cason cut across the yard at an angle that would take him about six feet away from the dog.
“How was the rest of your day?” Cason still didn’t look at him, just pulled short of the low stucco wall that ran along the house’s walkway and sat on it. “You’ll be glad to know I only needed four stitches. And oral antibiotics. So no IVs, no hospital stay.”
How to Heel a Wounded Heart (Must Love Dogs Book 4) Page 4