***
Jack watched the way the woman who claimed to be Jamie’s owner frowned as Jamie jumped up on Cait. “Jamie, down,” he said.
The dog put his little rump on the floor and raised his front paw. “Good boy,” Cait said with a smile, shaking his paw.
“Do you mind if I see the adoption papers?” Jack knew he’d have to turn Jamie over to her, but he didn’t have to make it easy for her.
When she started to protest, Mitch added his two cents. “Seems only right, since Jack here was the one who found Jamie running wild out on Eden Church Road.”
“I was there that night too,” Cait said. “He had to catch him first. If he hadn’t Jamie wouldn’t be sitting here so healthy and happy right now.”
Ms. Blackwell finally acquiesced. “I adopted him from the Newark Animal Shelter.”
“But that’s forty-five minutes away by car,” Jack said, scanning the paperwork. The picture was definitely the dog who’d been spending his nights sleeping in Jack’s bed. “How do you think he got all the way over here?” he asked, handing the paperwork to Cait for her to look it over.
“I have no idea,” the woman said, but there was something in her eyes that he didn’t trust. She was lying; he was sure of it.
“Lucky for you, Jack was out by the McCormack farm last week,” Cait told her. Jack was grateful for the interruption; he needed to think about what to do. Did he have legal recourse? Wasn’t possession nine-tenths of the law? He’d have to ask Mitch.
Before he could ask, Cait did. “I thought possession was nine-tenths of the law.”
Mitch frowned. “Unless there is proof otherwise.”
Ms. Blackwell had obviously had enough. “I have an appointment. May I have my dog, please?”
Jack wanted to say no but knew he had to say yes. “We have all of his stuff in the Jeep.”
“He didn’t have anything when I…that is when he ran away.”
That one slip might be all the ammunition he’d need in order to get Jamie back. With a glance at Cait, he knew she’d heard it too. Their gazes met and held; they’d let Jamie go now, in order to get him back in a few days.
“Then you don’t need his bed, food, treats, and dog toys?” He watched her face go from determined to confused.
“I don’t have—” she began only to stop and start again. “Since you won’t be needing any of it, thank you. I’m sure it’ll make him more comfortable.”
“No problem.” But it would be for her, because Jack intended to find out all that he could about the woman. He’d made a mental note of her address; he’d be checking up on his dog.
Jack handed her Jamie’s leash, but Jamie was far less cooperative. He lay down and wouldn’t budge. “Come, Crackers,” she demanded.
Jamie didn’t even acknowledge her command. He closed his eyes.
She tugged on the leash. “Crackers.”
Jack had seen enough, unsure if the woman would raise a hand to the dog, he told her, “He answers to Jamie or Jameson.”
“I named him Crackers.”
Needing to prove his point to Ms. Blackwell, he walked over to stand beside her and said, “Jamie, come.” The dog got up and walked over to where Jack stood and promptly sat down, waiting for his next command.
“Fine,” the woman grumbled. “Jamie, come.” She tugged on his leash again.
Jack’s heart broke watching the way Jamie looked at him, but after the second tug, the dog must have sensed he had to go. Smart dog, Jack thought watching him go.
“I’ll help you get his stuff,” Cait said, tugging on Jack’s arm.
Grateful, he nodded. They transferred the bags to the trunk of the woman’s silver, four door, late model Mercedes. Figures, he thought.
While Ms. Blackwell tried to get Jamie into the backseat of her car, he said, “He gets motion sickness unless you keep the window open. He likes to ride shotgun.”
“Shotgun?”
Cait snickered, and said, “In the passenger seat.”
With a hand to her pearls, she said, “Oh.”
When everything was loaded up and Jamie was in the backseat, Jack had to dig deep to keep from going over to the car, ripping the door open, and grabbing Jamie.
The hand at his back stopped him; Cait’s touch centered him. With a heavy heart, he watched Jamie spin around and put his paws on the top of the back of the seat, watching them as the Benz drove away.
“Let me drive you home,” Cait offered.
“I’m OK,” he told her, holding the passenger door open for her. “Are you hungry?”
She hesitated before getting inside. “Not really.”
“As a doctor, I should tell you that you need to eat.”
“What about you?” she asked when he got in and shut his door.
“You keep me on my toes, Mulcahy.”
“Jack, I’m sorry…”
“Me too.” He put the car in gear and backed up. “How about a ride before we go back and make dinner?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Cait’s ready agreement had him deciding to drive out past the spot they both loved. When he turned onto Eden Church, he was surprised that she was busy sending a text instead of watching where they were going.
“Who are you texting?”
“Rhonda.”
“About?”
She finally finished typing and looked over at him. “I got a hinky feeling about Jamie’s owner. I understand that the law is the law, but I don’t trust her. She’s hiding something.”
He nodded and slowed down as they approached the spot where they’d found Jamie—halfway between Bob’s Gas and Gears and the McCormack farm. He pulled over and parked. “Do you want to go for a walk?”
“Sure.” She got out and waited for him.
Reaching for her hand, he laced his fingers with hers and started walking toward the farm. “It’s funny how life doesn’t always work out the way you hope.”
“This was as close as I’ve been to having a dog,” she told him, staring at the woods off to the left.
When they passed the spot where Jamie had run into Cait’s arms, he felt her stiffen and then slowly relax the farther they walked. “I wasn’t planning on getting a dog yet, but now that I’ve had one, the house is going to feel empty without him.”
“Especially if he was sleeping with you instead of in his bed.”
Jack agreed. “The only time he didn’t sleep with me was when you were.”
He stopped and pulled her into his arms. “Will you stay with me tonight, Cait?” He didn’t need to tell her that he didn’t want to be alone in the house.
She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” When he didn’t move, she squeezed him tight and said, “Are we walking to the farm?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I thought you might want to see it by moonlight.”
They walked in silence, stopping now and again when a bat swooped low over the road, chasing a bug. A sharp bark off to the left had them both coming to a halt. “Was that—” she asked.
“Did you hear—” he said at the same time.
When the bark came again, he relaxed. “Sounds like a fox.”
She tilted her head to one side, waiting. When it came again, she agreed. When they reached the edge of the McCormack’s field, he pulled her over to the stand beside the fence. “The corn’s sprouted already.”
They leaned on the fence together. “It’s been warm.”
“What does Meg think about the bet?”
Cait nodded. “She got teary at first and then agreed that it was a great way to raise money for our neighbors who are going through tough times without making them feel beholden to anyone for helping.”
“It’s a great idea. Those too old coots always did have the town’s best interests at heart.”
“I would h
ave thought they’d be one of the ones who could use the money, but they never see it that way,” she said.
“They’re from a generation that is used to going without if need be. Tough times either make a man,” he told her, “or break him.”
“Mmm…” she said, inhaling a deep breath. “Smells great out here.”
When she stared at him, he knew what she expected and drew in a breath. “I smell rain.”
She laughed. “That’s not what I meant, but OK, we’ll go with that for now.”
He chuckled and realized it was going to be all right. As long as he had Cait in his life, he could tackle anything. Awed by the epiphany, he tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “The ground smells good out here, but not quite the same as when it’s just been plowed.”
Watching the bats swooping down over the field, she finally pushed back and said, “I’m hungry.”
He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose and tugged on her hand. “I’ve got some burgers that are begging to be grilled.”
“Do you have any potato salad?”
“Are you going to find somewhere else to eat if I don’t?”
“No.” After a few minutes, she asked, “Do you have any potatoes?”
He paused to think about it. “I might.”
“OK,” she said, “if we nuke them, they’re almost as good as a baked potato…as long as you have plenty of butter and sour cream.”
“Then you’re in luck,” he said as his Jeep came into sight. “I have all of the above.”
“I might let you talk me into bed after you feed me.”
He opened the door for her and leaned in to kiss her. “I promise to make it worth your while.”
When they pulled into his driveway, he fought to keep from wondering what Jamie was doing right then. It was hard; he’d gotten used to having the little guy there to greet him when he got home from a long day of treating patients.
“He was a good companion.”
Cait tucked her arm in his and led him around to the back door. “The best. He’ll be all right, Jack.”
Opening the back door, he sighed. “I know, but I’m gonna miss him like crazy.”
“Me too. When Meg moved out, I had to keep busy not to think about how much I missed her.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“Close enough,” Cait said. “She used to live with us and then she didn’t.”
He had to give her that much. “But still—”
Cait remained firm. “Do you need me to make the hamburger patties while you light the grill?”
“Nope already done. You can nuke the potatoes, though.”
The simple routine helped take his mind off missing Jamie. It would take time to get used to a new normal. He’d never forget what it was like to have that little ball of black fuzz in his life.
Cait kept up her end of the bargain by helping him make dinner and then insisting they eat on the deck. “Cold beer and burgers on a warm spring night,” she said after they’d finished. “It doesn’t get any better than this.”
Jack was already on his feet. “You sure about that?”
She giggled when he scooped her out of her chair and carried her into the house. “I can walk.”
“Me too,” he said, kissing a path along the curve of her jaw, his senses assaulted by the subtle combination of fruit and flowers. “You taste like springtime.”
“New face wash.”
“Do you taste like that everywhere?” he asked, taking the stairs two at a time.
“I wouldn’t want to spoil all of your fun,” she said as he placed her in the middle of his bed.
“You look right here.” He didn’t want to say too much, but he wanted her there, needed her there. “Caitlin I—”
He forgot what he was going to say when she pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the floor. He did the same and then reached for her jeans. She beat him to it and stood on his bed—thank goodness he had high ceilings or else she’d have bumped her head.
They were both breathless when she shimmied out of her jeans. “God, you’re beautiful,” he rasped, reaching for her.
She shook her head. “Your turn.”
But he didn’t want to wait that long to touch her. He wanted her naked in his bed. “Let’s try something different.” Her eyes widened as he eased her down onto her back and then proceeded to nip the lace panties at her hip and tug on them until she lifted up, so he could pull them off of her.
Licking and nibbling a path from her toes to her thighs, he nudged her legs apart and settled himself between them. Sliding his arms beneath her, he eased her legs onto his shoulders. “I’m going to take my time tonight,” he warned her. “I’m not stopping until I’ve tasted every inch of you.”
Her eyes blazed a brilliant green as desire grabbed her by the throat. “Then it’ll be my turn.”
“Babe, once I’ve had my fill of you, you won’t even remember your own name.”
“Big talk,” she said as his lips, teeth, and tongue tormented her, brushing close to the very heart of her, until she begged him to take what he so desperately wanted.
Wild honey.
His tongue dipped inside her again and he knew he’d never tasted anything that good. One taste would never satisfy the hunger building inside of him. She moaned and writhed as he took what he craved, tasted what he hungered for.
His jeans cut into his erection, but he ignored it, needing her to come first.
Her orgasm ripped through her, the aftershocks lifting her up off of the bed before she lay limp and quivering. Easing back, he slipped off the bed and stripped out of his jeans. Her eyes fluttered open as he covered himself from tip to base, and she turned slumberous as he climbed on to the bed.
He slid his body up and over hers, delighting in each and every shiver. “You’re so responsive,” he rasped, kissing his way to her breasts. Licking first one and then the other. When she wrapped her legs around him, he pulled her left breast into his mouth and slid home.
Suckling and sliding in and out, he was soon lost in the primal need to find completion. The need to mate with this woman threatened to take control, but he grappled with need and won, grazing his teeth over her nipple before letting go and lavishing the same attention on her other breast. He wanted her to come twice more before giving in to the overwhelming need to drive into her until he was blind to everything but the taste, scent, and feel of her.
When she cried out his name and went limp in his arms, he dug deep and found the strength to bring it home. Whispering words of love to the woman who held his heart, he urged her to come with him with each thrust, until she lifted up to meet him again and again.
With one final surge, he lifted her up and let go of his tight control. He emptied himself, wishing he could feel her velvet-soft walls pulsing around him, instead of the latex barrier that protected her.
Not yet, he thought, but soon.
Their heartbeats slowed as he rolled so she was on top, and he was still inside of her. Closing his eyes, he let sleep claim him.
***
The rumble of thunder sounded in the distance; snuggling closer to Jack, she ignored the coming storm and drifted back to sleep.
The crack of thunder directly overhead shook her from sleep. But it was the heavy weight pressing down on her that had her gasping for breath.
“Incoming,” Jack’s voice shouted as he pressed his body over hers, covering her, protecting her.
“Can’t breathe,” she protested, punching him in the shoulder to get him to ease up. Lightning flashed and another crack struck right outside the window. Jack’s weight was making her light-headed. She needed air.
Shifting, she kneed him hard. The weight lifted and she drew in a breath.
“What the hell?” he gasped, cupping himself.
�
��You were having a nightmare.”
The way he fell quiet, she knew he understood what had happened. “I’m sorry.”
“You need to talk to me about it.”
“No,” he said, “I don’t.” He got out of bed and pulled on his jeans.
“But—”
She may as well have been talking to the wind because Jack never stopped; he kept right on walking.
“Damn you!” she ground out. “You’re going to tell me,” she vowed. “Even if you hate me for it,” she whispered. “I’m going to help you face whatever demons you have locked inside of you.”
Chapter 14
Even though she waited for him, Jack never came back to bed. At four o’clock, she dragged herself to the bathroom, took a shower, and got dressed.
He was sitting on the deck, wrapped in a blanket, fast asleep when she walked outside. “Do you think staying away from me will protect me?” But he didn’t rouse from sleep to answer her question.
Since he didn’t feel he had to tell her what he was doing or where he was going, she didn’t either. Keys in hand, she walked to her truck, got in, and drove home. No one was up yet when she let herself into the house, so she made coffee and sat down with her dad’s laptop.
Getting on to the Internet, she started to search out different types of trauma until she found what she was looking for—PTSD, post traumatic stress disorder. Reading the symptoms again, she bookmarked the page. Now that she had a better understanding of what was happening to Jack, she needed to find a way to help him.
She was on her second cup of coffee when her father walked in. He took one look at her and summed up the situation. “You have about five minutes and then you are going to start talking,” he told her. “I’ll have downed my first cup of caffeine and will be able to help you get to the heart of whatever is bothering you.”
She didn’t bother to argue. She needed help and could trust her father not to talk about Jack’s problem until Jack was ready to. With a nod, she walked over to the fridge, pulled out the makings for breakfast, and set aside her worries while she fried up sausage patties and eggs—scrambled, just the way her dad liked them.
“Smells good,” he said, putting the toast down a second time. When it popped up, he slathered both pieces with butter and carried them over to the table. “Is this about Jack losing Jamie or just Jack?”
One Day in Apple Grove Page 19