by Lissa Manley
For her, too. “That’s exactly why I don’t allow myself to entertain thoughts of falling in love.”
“Another thing we have in common,” he said softly. “You’ve been hurt, too.”
She put her hands in her jacket pockets, feeling chilled. “Yes, foster care wasn’t a good experience for me.” Understatement of the century.
He turned, then touched her cheek, a warm caress that made her tummy tumble. “Tell me about it.”
She swallowed, knowing she was going to have to blurt the whole story out without stopping if she were going to have any hope of getting through this discussion without breaking down. “After my parents died, I had no family and I went into foster care. My first foster father…looked at me all wrong, and he did the same thing to Sue.”
Drew’s eyes darkened.
She went on, quickly, as if she could somehow erase what had happened by talking fast. “Then, at the next one, my foster mom…slapped me around.”
“Oh, no,” he breathed, his arm gripping her shoulder.
She forced herself to go on. “Yes. I confided in my foster brother, whom I trusted, and the next day, my foster mom found out I’d said something, and she went ballistic. In the scuffle, she pushed me, and I fell and broke my wrist.” She held up her right hand. “My foster brother saw the whole thing.
“The E.R. doc called the state Department of Child Services, and when they investigated, my foster mom lied and said I fell going down the stairs.” Ally’s eyes burned. “My foster brother backed up her lies, and since I had a record of difficult behavior on file from a few years earlier, the authorities didn’t believe my story.”
His jaw flexed. “What did you do?”
“I toughed it out, threatened to go back to DCS daily to keep her in line, and left the minute I turned eighteen.”
He shook his head. “I am so sorry,” he said, pulling her close again. “No one should have to go through that.”
Her eyes burned. “Thank you.”
“No wonder you keep things in. You’ve been betrayed by people you trusted, haven’t you?”
“Story of my life.” Trust wasn’t something she gave easily. Or at all, really. So why now, with Drew?
His jaw tightened again, and his eyes flashed with banked fury. “I can’t abide people who abuse others,” he said, his lips barely moving.
“But the good news is I’m strong now, and I’m changing the story of my life little by little. That’s why I moved to Moonlight Cove. Sue, one of my foster sisters, visited her uncle, Mr. Whitley, here in Moonlight Cove once before she went into foster care, and she told me about this place. I remembered every detail, and I vowed to move here one day and start over.”
“And you’ve done that, all on your own.”
“Oh, no. Not on my own.”
A crinkle formed between his eyebrows.
“Ever since Mrs. Landry, who lived next door to my parents, took me to church when I was a kid, I’ve had God.”
Drew’s face went completely still and he looked away, his jaw visibly rigid.
“What?” A thought occurred to her. “Don’t you believe in God…? No, wait. Just a few minutes ago you made a comment about God’s light show….”
“I believe in God,” he said quietly.
“Then…what? Something’s obviously bothering you.”
He swung his gaze her way. “Lately my faith has been shaken.”
“Why?”
“I’ve seen quite a few people lose the homes I sold them, seen marriages strained, families ripped apart.” His eyes darkened and his face twisted. “What kind of God lets that happen to good Christians?”
“I’ve wondered the same thing,” she said, grasping his hand.
His grip tightened. “Of course you have,” he said, grimacing. “Now that we’ve talked, I should have realized that.”
“Yeah.” She swallowed. “It’s no secret now what I’ve been through.”
“Is that a bad thing?” he asked.
She lifted one shoulder. “I’ve always kept things to myself. It feels…weird to share stuff with other people.”
“But you share stuff with God, right? You depend on Him.”
“Right. I’ve always believed that He will be there for me, no matter what.” She turned and looked at the darkening horizon, noting that the rays of the setting sun were still shining through the clouds. Yes, God was there, He was all around.
“How did you keep your faith?” Drew asked.
She thought about his question. “It’s not a conscious thing.” She laid a hand over her heart. “I’ve just always had this feeling in here that the Lord is there for me.”
Drew nodded slowly, obviously absorbing what she was saying.
She went on, inspired by her own statement. “To me, faith isn’t about expecting God to fix things. It’s about knowing you can depend on Him for support and guidance and His wisdom when life gets tricky.”
Drew put his arm around her. “Like now?”
Most especially, with him standing close, holding her, coaxing her deepest thoughts out, things she’d never told anyone. Was it that obvious how torn she was by her growing feelings for him? “Um…what do you mean?” she asked, hedging.
“You know? Because of the fire?” he said.
“Oh.” She gave an awkward laugh, glad his mind was on another track. “Yeah…because of the fire.” She probably sounded like a befuddled dolt. Funny how he did that to her.
“I guess I never thought about faith that way,” he said. “Am I expecting too much from God?”
“I don’t think you can ever expect too much,” she replied. “I think you have to realize that God gives humans free will to make our own choices—”
Drew’s cell phone sounded, interrupting Ally.
“One sec.” He stepped sideways and held up a hand as he pulled out the phone. “Hello?” A pause. “Oh, hi, Mom.” He listened for a few moments, nodding. “Okay, we’ll head back right now.” He pressed End, then looked at Ally. “Looks like Sadie is getting ready to have her puppies.”
Ally’s heart bounced. “Oh! Wow. I didn’t expect that to happen quite so soon.”
He grinned. “Well, the mama dog had different ideas.” Out came his hand.
She took it without questioning the rightness of doing so and started walking.
With a tug, he gently stopped her. “Ally?”
Turning, she said, “Yes?”
“Thank you for being so honest with me,” he said, his gaze soft yet direct. “I know sharing wasn’t easy for you.”
“It wasn’t. But life is full of hard choices, right? You’ve had to make one recently, haven’t you?”
“You’ve got that right. I agonized for years before I decided to move to Atherton,” he said, echoing her thoughts. Before she could reply, he added, “Also, thank you for giving me a different perspective on my faith in God. I have a lot to think about.”
“I’m glad I could help,” she said. “I really think the upcoming changes to your life will be easier if you rely on God to help you through.”
He inclined his head. “I’ll think about that.” He gestured in the general direction of Grace’s house. “Let’s go see Sadie and help welcome her puppies.”
Though she was caught off guard by what he’d admitted, Ally managed to fall in step beside him without tripping, still holding his big, warm hand. “You’re going to stay until they’re born?”
“I’d like to.” He tossed a questioning gaze her way. “Is that all right with you?”
Her heart soared in a way that rattled her guard even more. After a pause, she pulled herself together and slanted him a teasing smile, which was better than giving in to her wobbly knees. “I don’t know. Do you have any puppy delivery experience?”
He shook his head. “No, but I helped the chief deliver a human baby once. Does that count?”
Ally’s jaw fell. “You did?”
“Yep. A tourist went into labor and delivered
her baby at the gas station on Main Street.”
“Wow” was all she could say. When would this man quit surprising her?
“It was one of the greatest experiences of my life.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he said solemnly.
“Then I guess you qualify as my assistant newborn puppy nurse.”
He saluted. “I’m yours for as long as you need me.”
His statement had the warm and fuzzies doing crazy cartwheels round and round inside her, but only for a wonderfully clueless moment. Then reality kicked in and she came back down to earth with a resounding crash.
Drew wouldn’t be around forever, and no matter how much she was drawn to him, she couldn’t afford to forget that he was leaving town—and her—behind very soon. Getting attached was a heartache waiting to happen.
*
Three hours after Drew left the beach with Ally, Mom’s house had turned into puppy central. Now, he sat next to Ally in the whelping area she and Mom had set up in the laundry room.
Five pups had been born—three females and two males—and all of them were seemingly healthy. They were now clean and snuggled up to Sadie, making funny snuffling sounds as they tried to move blindly around.
Ally sat on the floor next to Drew, stroking Sadie’s muzzle, murmuring words of encouragement. Sadie panted while she labored to deliver the sixth pup. She had been a star, bringing her babies into the world easily and then tending to them in between each puppy’s arrival, just as a good mama dog should.
Ally had been a star, too, taking over the puppies’ birth like a seasoned pro, even though she’d told him that everything she knew about puppy birth she’d learned online. She’d been calm, proactive and efficient. And her love for Sadie was obvious, too.
Ally clearly had a soft, compassionate soul; he’d seen tears in her eyes when they’d had to banish a curious, concerned Rex to Mom’s bedroom during the delivery. Mom had stuck around to make sure everything was going smoothly, and then, pleading the onset of a cold, had joined Rex in her room and had turned in an hour ago.
During this lull, Drew couldn’t help but think about his and Ally’s conversation on the beach. Her story about her time in foster care had just about killed him. She’d been through smoke and fire—literally—and that broke his heart.
And made him admire her even more. She just kept bouncing back, time and time again, not letting her hard knocks keep her down. She was one of the strongest, most resilient women he’d ever met.
Maybe that was why he’d told her about Natalie. He’d felt uncharacteristically comfortable sharing his past romantic failure. It had been surprising, but Ally brought out odd reactions in him.
He went over their conversation again, recalling her ideas on faith and God. They were brilliant, intuitive and profound, and so indicative of the kind of stalwart Christian woman she’d become, even though her life had been peppered with tragedy and crises that might crush someone less faithful. He didn’t think he could be any more in awe of her than he was now. She made so much sense, and he was sure his perspective on faith would be forever altered, for the better.
Because of Ally.
In the same vein, he thought about how wonderful it had felt to have her snuggled in his arms, the flowery scent of her hair as intoxicating as any expensive perfume. He’d been physically close to other women before, sure. But something about having Ally in his embrace affected him differently. More profoundly, as if there were more than just the obvious physical attraction going on.
“Oh, here it comes,” she said, interrupting his reflective train of thought. Her voice was soft and low, yet bespoke her obvious excitement. She held out a hand. “Towel, please.”
He picked up a clean towel from the pile next to him, loving being part of Ally’s team. Of something that was clearly so special to her. “Here you go.” Sadie had done well cleaning the pups, but Ally explained that she wanted to keep a supply of fresh towels handy in case they needed to assist.
“Thanks.”
Sadie whined through her pants, and Drew could see her straining to birth the pup.
“That’s it, girl,” Ally said, stroking Sadie’s golden head. “You can do it.”
Sadie looked up at her with such love and trust in her eyes, Drew could only stare at the two of them; true devotion had never been more obvious to him.
A few moments later, a tiny, light golden puppy was born.
“Oh, boy, this one’s really small,” Ally said, concern etching her tone.
“The runt,” Drew replied, nodding, concern tightening his gut.
Ally turned to him, her eyes wide and fearful. “Too small?”
“I don’t know.”
Sadie went to work cleaning the little thing, licking and nudging it with her nose. But the pup remained much too still. Ally sat frozen next to Drew, chewing on her bottom lip, her eyes glued on the scene playing out before them.
Finally, she touched him with shaking fingers. “What should we do?” Panic tinged her voice, and her eyes shone with impending tears.
He remembered something he’d seen on TV once. Without hesitation he grabbed a towel. “Sadie, girl?”
Sadie looked up at him, infinite trust shining from her dark eyes.
“Here, let me help you a bit.” He tentatively reached down and laid a hand on the pup. When Sadie kept still, he slowly picked the tiny thing up and wrapped it in the towel in his hands. Then he began to gently rub the pup.
Sadie didn’t take her eyes off him, yet she seemed to know he was trying to help. He kept rubbing, keeping the pup in full view; mamas could get nervous.
“Is it working?” Ally asked, her voice hushed and scratchy.
He stopped for a second and took a look. The pup was still not moving. Or breathing. “Not yet.” He went back to gently stroking the pup in his hands, hoping the little thing would take a breath. Ally, he knew, would be absolutely devastated if the pup didn’t survive, and her grief would be his. He was determined to save it if he could.
He heard words of prayer coming from Ally, and he joined in mentally. Please, Lord, save this tiny thing….
After a minute or so of rubbing, just as he thought his actions were futile, the pup shuddered and took a noisy breath, followed by the tiniest doggy whimper he’d ever heard.
Sadie nudged his hand.
“Was that…?” Ally breathed.
“Yep,” he said, holding the swaddled puppy up. Joy arced through him. “It’s breathing.”
Ally squeezed his arm.
He looked at her, his heart surging at the pure relief shining on her face.
“Oh, thank You, God!” she said, then she gripped his arm, her touch firm and warm. “And thank you, too, Drew.”
The pup squirmed in his hands, and Drew kept stroking it to encourage adequate blood flow, and to comfort it, as well. Sadie sniffed the pup intently but seemed content to let Drew hold her littlest one.
He waited with bated breath, and then, after a few minutes, the pup lifted its head and gave a minuscule yowl.
“Listen to that,” Ally said, her tone laced with wonder. “What a little fighter.”
He held it out to Ally. “Just like you.”
She hesitated, then carefully took the puppy from him.
“If it’s a girl, maybe we’ll name it after you.” He regarded the tiny dog. “She looks like an Ally.”
Ally curved her mouth into a shaky, crooked smile. “That’s the sweetest thing anybody’s ever said to me.”
He couldn’t take his eyes off that adorable smile. “Everybody should have such a worthy namesake.”
Lifting the newborn up, she took a close look at its tiny face. “You hear that, pup? He thinks I’m worthy.”
“Definitely,” he replied with all honesty. Just as quickly, he recalled her story, what she’d been through, how everyone in her life who mattered had made her feel unwanted. Unworthy. His heart cracked a little bit more, adding to the web of chinks sh
e’d already put there.
The pup whimpered, and Ally started rubbing its back, crooning, her voice muted yet rife with a nurturing tone meant to soothe. Drew smiled and watched, enchanted by this side of Ally. By everything about her. She was strong, kind and beautiful, both inside and out, when she could have so easily been cold and hard and bitter from the scars of her traumatic childhood.
Fury rose inside him, hot and unmistakable, and he had the sudden urge to track down everyone who’d ever hurt her and teach them a thing or two.
Then an awful thought bolted through his mind, taking his breath away.
When he left Moonlight Cove, he’d be another person who’d left her behind. Worse yet—if that were possible—suddenly the idea of leaving as he’d always planned didn’t seem quite so appealing anymore.
Chapter Ten
Ally looked at her watch. 2:00 a.m. The middle of the night after a busy day. Yet she’d never felt so energized. Sure, delivering puppies was life-affirming, and, as such, revitalizing.
But she wasn’t a complete head-in-the-sand idiot; she knew much of her energy and positivity was due to the man sitting next to her on the floor of Grace’s laundry room–turned–canine whelping area, holding a tiny puppy as if it were the most precious thing on earth. The man who’d helped her deliver six puppies with nary a frazzled look or word. If he were this good under pressure, he’d be a great paramedic, hands-down.
Most especially, she’d noted, Drew had been so calm, so levelheaded when the runt—a female, they’d discovered—had been born. Just as Ally had been on the edge of panic, he’d taken over and saved the pup. Was there anything more wonderful than a man who could be calm under pressure and take a teensy newborn pup and literally bring it back from the brink of death?
He’d risen about a hundred notches in her estimation, and he’d already been way up there before his puppy heroics. He was hovering in the stratosphere in her mind right now. And in the vicinity of her chest, too, which was, oddly, feeling both empty and full at the same time. Save a puppy, steal her heart? Could it be that effortless for him to work his way under her skin?
She shifted uneasily on the floor. Oh, boy. She was getting in over her head for sure.