by Glynna Kaye
She did as she was told. Still on his knees, Rob carefully gathered the whimpering pup into his arms and lowered him onto the cotton cloth.
“You’re getting blood all over you.”
Rob swiped at the front of his now-stained T-shirt, then brushed his hair back with a forearm, leaving a crimson streak across his forehead.
“Let’s get this wrapped around him. Then I’ll carry him to the Jeep. I’ll drive. You hold him.”
She nodded, watching in apprehension as he swaddled Elmo in the sheet and lifted him into his arms. The pup didn’t struggle, but she wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or bad.
At the open-topped Jeep Wrangler, Rob nodded toward the passenger side of the vehicle. “Hop on in and buckle up.”
She obeyed, then he gently lowered the pup onto her lap. Its pitiful little face turned to keep a watchful eye on Rob.
“Got him? He’s an armful.”
“He’s really shaking, isn’t he?”
“Probably in shock.” Rob took her hand and laid it against the pup’s sheet-swathed shoulder. “If you can press firmly right about here, maybe that will slow the blood flow.”
Then he gently pushed her knee out of harm’s way and slammed the door. Loped to the other side and climbed into the driver’s seat. His countenance creased as he glanced at her. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded in apparent approval as he started the engine, then backed the Jeep enough to swing it around and head for the rock-and-dirt road that wound through the Singing Rock property. Acutely aware of gravel crunching under the tires and the sun dappling through the pines overhead, she adjusted her hold on Elmo as his warm body continued to shiver in her arms. “I wonder what happened to him?”
“No tellin’.” Rob eased the vehicle around a sharp corner. “Maybe something fell on him. He’s rather accident-prone.”
“Is he?” She glanced down at Elmo and gave him a gentle squeeze, praying he’d be okay. “Poor little guy.”
The pup lifted his nose and swiped a tongue across her chin. She glanced up in time to see a smile tug at Rob’s lips. Where was her camera when she needed it? Record that one for posterity.
He nodded toward the pup. “Looks as if he thinks he’s found a friend.”
“For life,” she said, bracing her feet as they jolted along the rutted, winding road. Passing by another of the property’s cabins, its guests relaxing on the porch, she marveled at the day’s turn of events. When she’d awakened that morning, never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined she’d be on a rescue mission with an injured dog that wasn’t hers. Or with Rob McGuire, for that matter.
He wasn’t hers, either.
Yet.
She directed her smile at Elmo. “Hang in there, Rob’s going to save you.”
Halfway across a creek that snaked through Singing Rock’s acreage, the Jeep jerked to a halt on the weathered bridge. Rob stuck his arm out the window, motioning to a muscular, Western-hatted man picking his way along the edge of the water, a fishing pole and tackle box in hand.
“Brett!”
The man, dressed in jeans and a collarless blue knit shirt, waved back with a broad smile. But when Rob crept the Jeep to the other side, it must have registered that the tone and gestures weren’t of a happy nature. The man swiftly hopped across the rocks, then scrambled up the embankment, apprehension evident in his features.
“Your mutt got into something again,” Rob explained as the man came up to his door. “We’re taking him to a vet. You comin’?”
The man’s questioning gaze swept to Elmo. Then to her.
Say no. Please, please, please?
She wanted to ride to town with Rob.
Alone.
Chapter Five
“Oh, for cryin’—” Scowling, the cowboy-hatted man moved to Olivia’s side of the vehicle to take a closer look at the bundle in her arms. “What is it this time?”
Cradling the pooch, she addressed the man she assumed was Singing Rock’s assistant manager. “Not sure. He’s got a bad cut. Maybe internal injuries. Or broken bones.”
Rob drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “So, you comin’?”
“Yeah, yeah.” The man threw his fishing gear in the back and pulled himself into the rear seat. “I need insurance on that pooch.”
“What you need is to keep him on a leash or penned up. Those are the rules.”
“Tell that to Elmo. He makes Houdini look like an amateur. Dug out again in the night.”
The Jeep jerked as Rob put it in gear, then continued down the narrow, tree-lined road. The other man maneuvered around in the back, getting himself situated before turning his attention to Olivia. He cast her a lopsided, engaging grin. “Rob didn’t tell me he had a canine paramedic on staff.”
“Olivia, meet Brett Marden, Singing Rock second in command.” Rob eased the vehicle to the edge of the highway, leaning forward to look for approaching traffic. “Brett, meet Olivia Diaz. Paul and Rosa’s daughter.”
“You don’t say?” The sandy-haired man’s eyebrows rose and he whipped off his Western straw in a respectful gesture. His eyes appraised her in an openly appreciative but inoffensive manner. “Good to meet you, Olivia. Mighty good.”
Rob’s brows lowered as he turned onto the highway. Ignoring Brett, he looked over at the pup. “How’s he doing?”
“Still shivering.”
“Lucky dog.” Brett resettled his hat on his head, then gave his pet a gentle pat.
“Lucky?” She glanced from Rob to his assistant. “I got the impression from you guys that he is majorly unlucky.”
“Depends on how you look at it.” Brett squinted against the sunshine pouring through the roofless Jeep. “Porcupine quills are the devil to pull out of a sensitive nose. Skunk odors linger forever. But whatever he’s done to himself this time managed to get an exceptionally beautiful woman fawning over him. So I’d say it evens out.”
Olivia laughed, recognizing a well-practiced flirt. Plenty of fun, but usually not a whole lot of substance.
Rob’s forehead creased. Lips tightened. What was his problem? Did he think she wasn’t smart enough to spot Brett’s over-the-top flattery?
As their speed picked up, wind whipped through the open Jeep and Olivia wished she’d put her hair in a ponytail and donned sunglasses. Ducking her head, she attempted to turn from the cool morning blast, but without success. Long, whiplike strands of hair slapped mercilessly at her eyes and mouth. She squinted, helpless with her hands occupied by the pup. Then from behind, a hand scooped back her unruly mane, holding it in a secure grip.
“Thanks.” She cast Brett a grateful smile and received a dimpled one in return.
He winked. “Anytime.”
Rob’s ever-present frown deepened as he turned off the highway and onto the road leading into town. What was up with him? Like it would kill him to smile once in a while.
The Vegas incident had apparently done a number on him. But if he couldn’t loosen up any more than he had thus far—except for that too-short interlude yesterday morning—he’d never make a go of Singing Rock management.
If there was anything she knew about what it took for her folks to run the enterprise successfully, it was that hospitality and flexibility were the keys. Adapting at a moment’s notice to whatever came your way. Exuding warmth, acceptance and generosity even when you’d rather slam the door in someone’s face. Finding a way to accommodate even the most difficult personalities without showing so much as a hint of annoyance.
Rob flunked that one this morning.
For whatever reason, Brett annoyed him.
Rob glanced at his watch as Olivia and his assistant manager finally reboarded the Jeep—without Elmo. Eleven o�
��clock. What had taken them so long? After dropping off the pooch, he’d returned to Singing Rock until Olivia called for a pick-up. But from the looks of it, he should have stuck around to chaperone. The pair seemed too cozy, with Brett’s arm draped familiarly around Olivia’s shoulder when they’d exited the vet’s office. Maybe he should warn her. Clue her in to steer clear of the flirtatious ladies’ man. After all, she had been his “little sis in Christ” at NAU. Which obligated him to look out for her best interests—and Brett Marden wasn’t one of them.
Why were ladies always such suckers for cowboys? Not sure what the attraction was. Must be the hat. Whatever was up between them, though, it was none of his business. She could make her own decisions. She was a grown woman now. Nobody with two eyes in his head could argue with that. Least of all him.
“How’s the pup?” Ignoring his assistant, he directed the question to Olivia as she settled her pretty self beside him. Buckled her seat belt. She must have cleaned up at the vet’s, as evidence of Elmo’s bloody adventure had vanished from her hands and forearms. He’d taken time back at his apartment to clean up, as well. Changed shirts.
“All sewn up. No broken bones. Appear to be no internal injuries. Severe bruising of his hip. But Dr. Sikeston wants to keep him overnight.”
“For observation,” Brett confirmed.
“She have any idea what happened to him?”
“Said we could be right about a car hitting him sometime in the night.” Olivia glanced back at Brett, as if his input mattered. “I’m guessing he heard you at Timberline, Rob, and was making his way there when I found him.”
Brett shook his head. “Who’d hit a poor pup and leave him out there like that? Not one of our guests, I hope.”
“Same person or persons who’d tear up a cabin. Spray it with graffiti.” Rob threw the Jeep in gear, backed out.
“Maybe in the dark they didn’t know they’d hit him.” As always, Miss Sunshine tried to give the benefit of the doubt. He swung the Jeep around, hit the gas and headed toward the graveled parking lot’s exit.
Brett thumped him playfully on the back. “Dude. Let’s grab lunch. My treat. A token of appreciation for rescuing that lame-brained mutt of mine.”
“That’s sweet of you,” Olivia’s voice all but cooed as she turned, beaming, toward the man ensconced in the backseat.
Rob fought to keep his lip from curling.
“Where to?” Brett prodded. “Kit’s Lodge?”
“Ooh, I love Kit’s.”
He didn’t really want to dine with these two. But there was no point in risking coming across like an ungrateful slug. He turned the Jeep in the direction of the popular local eatery. “Works for me. I’ve learned that when this tightwad offers to foot the bill, you take him up on it.”
“Oh, Rob.” Olivia laughed, her dark eyes focusing on him. Her smile warmed his heart even as an invisible band tightened around his chest.
The warmth faded, but tension stayed with him throughout their meal as he listened to the light, constant chatter between his college alumna and the cowboy Paul and Rosa hired to assist them prior to his own arrival. Brett was a decent enough guy who, he’d gotten the impression, had been thrown to the ground and stomped on in a recent relationship. He worked hard. Played equally hard. But man, was he a talker. A born charmer. Lit up like fireworks around a pretty woman. By the way Olivia’s face glowed and she never stopped smiling, she was eating it up by the bowlful. Between the two of them, Rob couldn’t have gotten a word in edgewise if his life depended on it.
“So,” Brett continued after a humorous rundown of how he came to acquire Elmo, “do you have pets, Olivia?”
“Not since I was a kid. Living out of a suitcase isn’t conducive to that kind of commitment.”
“You travel a lot with your job?”
“Jobs. Plural. Odd jobs. Volunteer work. Short-term mission trips, too.”
She glanced curiously at Rob—to see if he was listening? Although feigning focus on his meal, he hadn’t missed a word.
“Missions, huh?” Brett sat back as he finished off his cherry pie, eyeing her with an unconcealed interest that made Rob want to pop him. “Where at?”
“Latin America. Mexico. American Indian reservations. Most recently Mississippi, helping out after that freaky tornado outbreak.”
“Bad stuff,” Brett acknowledged, running a thumb around the rim of his coffee cup. “So you like being on the road? Into the adventure?”
Her eyes sparkled. “Love it.”
Rob choked down his last bite of apple pie. Out for the adventure. Exploiting the moment. Always on the go, just like his daughter’s mother.
Gaze earnest, Brett pushed away his empty plate and folded his forearms on the table’s edge. “So exactly what do you do at these places?”
“Sometimes I help build homes. Not much more than shacks by most standards, but a heaven-sent answer for those living in poverty. I’m not so skilled at construction, but enjoy keeping everyone’s kids out of the way—occupied with stories about Jesus or helping organize fun and games.”
“Well, Olivia,” Brett drawled with a slow wink, “you’re welcome to organize fun and games for me anytime.”
Rob nudged Brett’s foot under the table. He’d had enough of this.
Brett grinned. “So, you two knew each other in college, huh?”
“Right.” Olivia produced an exaggerated sigh, her eyes shining into Rob’s before turning again to Brett. “But sad to say, when we met again he didn’t remember me.”
Brett cast him a what-kind-of-idiot-are-you look, then gently bumped Olivia’s arm with his elbow. “Believe me, I’d have remembered you, Olivia. You can count on that.”
Rob managed not to grit his teeth.
“It’s not that I didn’t remember her. I didn’t recognize her.” He tossed his napkin to the table. “I think it’s time we head back to Singing Rock. It’s clouding up and I don’t want to get caught in the open Jeep in a downpour. Don’t like leaving the property unsupervised for long stretches at a time, either. Particularly with our uninvited guests making themselves at home.”
Olivia leaned forward, glancing from one man to another. “Maybe we can set a trap. A sting. Catch ’em in the act.”
Brett leaned in, too. “Yeah. A stakeout.”
Great. Olivia creeping around the premises in the dark with Brett. “I don’t—”
“Olivia, honey.” Their gray-haired waitress reached for his now-empty plate, lowering her voice to address the woman across from him. “There’s a young couple over there—the booth by the door—asking about honeymoon cabin recommendations for five or six weeks from now. I suggested Singing Rock. You might want to stop by on your way out. Clinch their interest before some other place nabs their business.”
Olivia nodded, already getting to her feet. “Thanks for the tip, Sue.”
Rising, Rob caught her arm. “Don’t you think I should handle this?”
“Why?” She stared at him in apparent confusion. “I’ve been promoting Singing Rock since I was in diapers.”
“Maybe so, but I am the manager now. You’re on vacation. Let me handle it.”
She gave him a hesitant smile, as if ready to acquiesce, then slipped her arm from his grasp. “I don’t think so.”
And off she went.
With a glare at his grinning assistant, he followed behind her.
“I understand you’re looking for a cabin to rent,” Olivia was saying when he caught up with her at a table where a painfully young-looking couple was seated—with a baby of about three months old, if he judged correctly. It was in a child carrier propped on the booth seat next to the blonde girl.
Honeymoon cabin? Was that what Sue had said?
“For a weekend in Octo
ber.” The mother blushed as she dabbed the baby’s sputtering mouth with a napkin. “Our waitress recommended a place called Singing Rock.”
“I may be a tiny bit prejudiced, of course,” Olivia said with evident pride, “but my parents own that place and I can guarantee you won’t be disappointed.”
The male half of the couple, not looking much more than a kid himself, held up a brochure of the property he’d extracted from the pile spread out next to his plate—an outdated brochure Rob knew needed a major overhaul. “I picked this up at the chamber of commerce. Looks great. But I’m not sure—” he glanced uncomfortably at his—girlfriend? fiancée? wife? “—you know, if we can swing it.”
“You can swing it,” Olivia stated without hesitation. “Our busy season falls off after Labor Day, so rates drop. If you stay two nights, we’ll throw in the third free.”
What? Not until November did they do anything of the sort. Early to mid-October still brought in Valley visitors to enjoy the aspens changing color, warm days and crisp nights. Hunters, too.
“Does that sound good?” she continued, beaming at the surprised couple. “Sue, your waitress, said you’re looking for a honeymoon cabin.”
“Yes. A honeymoon.” The blonde’s cheeks flushed again as she motioned to the infant. “We kind of got the cart before the horse, or so my grandma puts it. We’re locals—getting married in October when Aiden can take a few days off from his new job.”
“Then this calls for a celebration. I have the perfect cabin in mind. Secluded in the pines. Big stone fireplace. Four-poster bed. Spacious deck. Oozes romance. We’ll even kick in a candlelight steak dinner catered to your door from right here at Kit’s.”
What was she doing?
The young woman turned hopeful eyes on her fiancé. “Sounds wonderful, doesn’t it?”
“And like an offer we can’t refuse.” The blonde let out a happy squeal and the boy-man stretched out a hand to Olivia. “Thanks a lot. I’m Aiden Cantra and this is my fiancée, Sally.”