by Mimi Barbour
Obviously loving the attention, Pedro giggled. “She’s all red.”
“Uh-huh!”
“And wrinkly.”
“Yep.”
“And she screams really loud.”
“Oh, yeah!”
“Do we have to keep her?”
Maybe he shouldn’t have laughed, but nothing in the world could have stopped the waves from bursting loose. He picked the boy up in his arms, and all the while he hugged, he swung him around in a circle, loving the happy squeals. “She’ll be your best friend one day, little guy. You’d better take care of her.”
“Okay, okay-y!”
The door opened and Ruiz slowly stepped into the room, his shoulders slumped like those of a beaten man. It reminded Liam a little of someone else he’d seen recently.
Ruiz plucked his son from Liam’s arms, hugged him for a second, and then lowered him. “Tu mamá wants you, mi hijo.”
Once the door closed and the two men had no where else to look, Ruiz turned to Liam and held out his hand. Liam slapped it away and shoved his face right up close to the other man.
Chapter Ten
“What the hell is wrong with you? What if something had happened, if the baby hadn’t come properly or…or something? She could have died in the hands of two bloody incompetent idiots who had no reason to take chances with her life. You're a fool! Why the hell wouldn’t you let me call the ambulance?” Liam lowered his voice for the last part when he’d noticed Ruiz’s warning glance aimed toward the other room.
“Easy for you to say, Señor. I no have health insurance. I am here illegally. What do you know? You think the doctors would have treated her?” Veins stood out on his forehead, and his bloodshot eyes pierced Liam’s conscience. “Why do you think we hired a midwife?”
With both hands held in front, Liam took a step back and calmed down. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I would have paid for her treatment in a second.”
“But I have no money to pay you back. I work long hard hours and get paid nada.” Ruiz's fingers rubbed together, his expression disgusted. “Gringos like to take advantage of a man who can’t fight back.”
“Not all gringos. What kind of work do you do?”
“Anything! Dig ditches, clean sewers, work in a kitchen, whatever I can find. But the pay is bad, if I even get paid. My big-shot boss stiffed me today and… Look, I’m not complaining. We’re here in America, safe from the drug cartel on the streets of Ciudad Juarez. So no matter what happens, we are better off.”
“You’re mixed up in the drug trade back home.” Liam couldn’t help the disgust evident in his words.
“No! Never! They forced Isobela’s father to work for them, and then they killed him. The escoria…how you say…?”
“…scum.”
“Si! They think Isobela witnessed this-this atrocidad—”
“Atrocity?”
“Si! And they want to kill her so she can’t testify. But she saw nothing. We fled with only the clothes we wore.”
Liam could see the man was done. He looked so tired that he reminded him of soldiers coming off days of advanced training, exhausted and beaten.
“I’ll leave you to your family now, but I’d like to come back and talk to you again, if I may? I might have a job for you, one that will pay proper wages for the hours you work.”
Hope lit the man’s eyes. A little light that started small, then flared and grew as he stared at Liam and looked into his soul.
“You are the man in this morning’s accident, si?”
“Si!”
“Then I owe you twice. You have managed to save both my children today.”
“No. You have it wrong. You saved your daughter, and Miss Bertolli saved your son. Twice I’ve managed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Chapter Eleven
By early Sunday, Sadie’s patience had vanished. She had to get out of the loony bin. Of course, before Bea would let her leave, she made her call Greta to be sure she’d be there. In case Sadie got into trouble. What the heck kind of trouble did she think she’d get into?
Thank heavens Greta had answered and agreed to stay home. And they still balked. Finally, she sweet-talked them with promises. Like spending the next weekend together at their beach house for a pajama party. They’d watch chick flicks and eat junk food. It didn’t seem too dreadful to her right now, but she knew when the time came that would change. It was their idea of a good time. And her idea of a nightmare.
But right now, she’d do anything to get away from their constant singing, their mind-numbing cheeriness, and their maddening references to her new boyfriend, spoken with tongue in cheek, of course. Any chance to tease, they took.
Right from the beginning, their sickeningly sweet tones had warned her of just how much they’d taken to Liam. If that wasn’t enough, the proof became very clear in the way they’d opened up to him while he’d been their dinner guest. They talked to him about business, things that would normally only be shared between the family. They’d lit up when he praised their food. In fact, you’d think the player had never had a well-cooked meal before he met “the sweet gals,” as he’d referred to them more than once. All the time he overstayed his welcome—in her opinion—he’d overplayed his part and they’d simpered disgustingly.
Considering that they had very few men to cater to, since neither of her sisters had a serious beau at the time, nor her mom, she supposed she shouldn’t mind so much that they’d sucked up to Liam like glaze on a honey donut.
But she did.
Both her sisters had made a play for his attention. When that didn’t seem to work, since he teased them equally, they did their best to sing her praises.
It had curdled her stomach.
Chapter Twelve
Early Monday afternoon, at the approximate time specified and the address Bea had written down, Liam showed up ready and willing for work—more fool he!
Impatient, Sadie stood clicking her booted heel against the sidewalk—fists planted on her hips. Her tight sweater and jean-clad body drew stares from other drivers, but she never even noticed. She was too busy eyeballing her watch, and as he approached, her eyes drilled him.
The words popped out before he could stop them. “Traffic was slow.”
“Not the way you drive.”
“I had an unwanted guest who kept me within the speed limit.”
He watched her look at his car, angle her head questioningly and then turn back his way.
“He got out on the last block. You’re obviously ready so let’s go.”
“Not in this pretty toy you call a car. We’ll have to use the company vehicle.” He should have known something was up when her checks reddened.
Hobbling along by his side, she led him into the underground parking lot right up to the ugliest monstrosity on four wheels he’d ever seen—a rosy pink doggie van with splashes of paw prints streaked to run along each side. The hideous, doggy, shag-mobile was outfitted with a penned-in back where the animals rode, each with their own windows and special enclosures reminiscent of baby seats.
She frowned at him when he couldn’t stifle his horror. "Don't you say a word! My mother and sisters bought this through the company when they realized my own car was too small to transport the animals safely. They ordered it specially designed and painted, and if you'd been there to see their expressions when they presented it to me, you couldn't have refused their generosity either."
He grinned.
She glared.
Then he helped her step up into the passenger seat, got behind the wheel, and drove it out onto the street. The silence had thickened, so he spoke.
"No, really! It’s roomy. And the pink is…is eye-catching. Paw designs, are a good way to advertise.”
She said nothing, but she did snort.
“We're getting lots of attention." Yeah, everyone’s laughing! Words popped into his head coming straight from his conscience.
He hated himself for lying, an
d the truth must have showed in his sour expression.
"Not funny! And slow it down, especially when the dogs are with us. They'll get antsy if you go too fast."
"And you know that how?"
"Never mind…and lose the grin." Even though her voice sounded rough, the chuckle he heard negated her being in a real snit.
"Yes, ma'am." Maybe the stares won't be so hard to take after all. It was nice being with Sadie again. She looked stunning with her soft curls bouncing around her pretty face. He'd looked forward to spending the afternoon with her, and if it meant driving a pink puppy parlor, he guessed he could take it.
After all, guys who had a firm grip on their sexuality didn't get rattled with minor shit like this. And if the asshole in the car next to his didn’t stop wiggling his eyebrows and smirking, he'd be more than happy to rearrange his face at the next light.
"Liam. Quit glowering at everyone and listen. Please. I have to explain a few facts before we start the day. I don't want you to undo all the work it's taken me months to put into practice. My students are in training, and unless you do exactly as I tell you, it won't be pretty."
"Students? I thought they were dogs."
"They are dogs, silly. But they're my students, also. I train them during these walking exercises, and they respond very well—to me. I just don't know whether you'll be smart enough.”
“Now you’re just being mean and…and rude.”
“I'm not being rude. These dogs are very intelligent. They know whenever they can get away with anything, and like children they'll try to take over, be the pack leader. It's up to you to stay in control—to show them who’s boss."
"Lady, if I can get through Special Forces training and work with some of the young idiots people are producing today, I have no doubt I can handle a few mutts."
"Don't be too hasty. Or ignore my advice."
"I'm sure I'll be just fine." Then he gave her his best don't-worry-about-me-little-lady nod, and she closed her mouth and crossed her arms.
Eating his own words didn't come easy to him. Begging didn't either, but by the time he'd walked the first pack for one block, had been tripped and almost upended, had the chains wrapped around his legs so he'd had to sit down on the sidewalk in order to get loose, and stopped a dozen times to undo leashes and rearrange their order, he'd begun to worry. The final straw came during one of the leash removals when the smallest in the group, Peppi the Pomeranian, had taken the opportunity to break loose. After he'd chased him three blocks before catching the poufy-haired little bugger, he knew he needed to listen.
The fact that Johnny-come-lately witnessed his disgrace didn't help, either. By the time Liam got back to where Sadie had the dogs properly behaving as they all waited for his return, he was hot under the collar and felt pretty damn foolish. To see the devil glinting from the angel's eyes didn't help the situation whatsoever.
"Why don't you go hug a cloud?"
"And miss all the fun? Not likely!"
"Liam, are you now ready to take some advice?"
"I'm all ears!" Go figure. Six dogs could be so hard to handle? He looked at the well-behaved monsters now arranged around Sadie, who sat like a queen on the park bench with her roll of plastic doggie bags on her lap, and he motioned his surrender.
"Okay, first you'll have to pick up the poop that Nicky and Reverend left just over by the trees. Here's the bags." She unrolled two smallish bags and held them out.
He wasn't sure if he'd heard her properly. Did she just ask him to pick up dog shit in a baggy?
"Cor. The stuff won't bite you. Blokes pick up dog droppings all the time."
"Not this bloke."
"So you're going to make Sadie do it when she can barely walk, never mind bend over?"
Liam stomped over to her and whipped the bags from her hands. "Where are they?"
She pointed. He purposely didn't look her in the eye, because if she was enjoying this moment, which he had no doubt she was, being a nice guy, he didn't want to spoil it for her. Plus, he knew the squeamishness he felt in his gut had to be splashed across his mug. He wasn't enough of an actor to hide it.
A damn good thing the litter can stood only a few feet away.
Holding the bags out at arm’s length would have drawn a bit more attention than he wanted if he'd had to go any farther.
"Give over, ya toff. Don't be daft. It's a natural function."
"Be quiet! I did it, didn’t I? When I was a kid I wasn't allowed to have a dog. So this is all new to me."
The angel’s attitude instantly underwent a change. "I know, Liam. You did good, my man." So saying, Johnny disappeared and left a rush of gladness behind that dissolved all the anxiety inside Liam. Left him feeling strangely happy.
He went back to Sadie. She was speaking softly to the dogs, which were rapt with attention, all six pairs of eyes glazed with adoration. In his mind, they were walking a strange assortment of mutts. And he guessed he shouldn’t think of these expensive, groomed-to-their-eyeballs, manicured babies as mutts, but in his mind that’s exactly what they were.
Stunned at how people could spend the amount of money it took to not only buy the animals but maintain their perfect styling, he studied each one.
Peppi, his personal favorite, the mutt who’d shown gumption by getting away when he had the chance, was a reddish-gold ball of fluff whose little black, beady eyes seemed to see everything. At the same time his tongue lolled to the side and his open mouth curved upwards in a distinctly cheeky way.
Lying next to him was a gorgeous white Samoyed called Samantha who had a similar laughing expression and a large plumed tail that never stopped waving.
Then came Giorgio, a standard white Poodle, who had to be dragged along, as walking didn’t appeal to him much. According to Sadie, he’d won Best of Breed in many shows and was the particularly spoilt baby of a wealthy heiress.
Next to him a German Shepherd called Nicky displayed leadership qualities by marshalling the others back into position with a nip or a bark, then looked angelic when Sadie called him on his tactics. He was a strong son-of-a-gun who’d almost torn Liam’s arm from the socket during a few tussles.
Lying next to him, totally bored and showing it, was the ugliest of the happy little group, Reverend, a wrinkled mass of fawn-colored skin whose eyes disappeared periodically. According to Sadie, Shar-Pei dogs were a relatively new breed, intelligent and loving. Maybe so, but dragging one along in a group of six wasn’t easy.
Just then the yappy one started up again. A miniature Pinscher, or Min-Pin as she called it, took the prize for its annoying habit of never shutting up. Liam visualized wrapping his hands around the small neck and squeez—
“Liam? Where did you go? I’ve called you twice. We have another group to walk in a short while, so we need to get moving.”
“Right, sorry. Was thinking about how different these breeds are and how each one of these mutts perform.”
“They’re very smart, you know.”
“I have no problem with real dogs, ones that have faces and paws, not these powder puffs with feet.” First he pointed at the Giorgio and then Peppi.
“Are you dissing my pack?” Her smiling eyes downplayed the harshness in her tone.
“I just can’t imagine how any normal person would put so much importance into a four-legged barker—seems to me that people should come first.” Once the words hung out there, he realized he sounded pretty insensitive and felt the disintegration start in his backbone and work its way down to his weakening knees. What an idiot, running off at the mouth like that.
With a warning glint in her eye, Sadie spoke softly. “You must admit, when I have control, they’re very well behaved. Some are show dogs, after all, and worth a small fortune.”
He scanned the wagging, squirmy bunch. What he figured was the money spent on a poodle with a glittery necklace of pink gems gracing her neck and a rhinestone-studded harness around her body could feed a village in some of the countries where he’d tr
avelled.
As if he sensed his importance, Giorgio pranced forward, his backcombed pompoms waving in circles and his tiny black eyes blinking in a flirtatious manner.
Liam backed away. The doggy grin allowed a glimpse of sharp teeth, and the low growl portrayed a problematic attitude.
Just then the German shepherd, Nicky, stepped between them, using his body as a shield. He nipped at the poodle, which sniffed and turned away. “Now there’s a dog a man can be proud to walk.”
Liam reached to pat the regal head and just managed to retrieve all his digits before they were snapped off by the sharp jaws.
“What the hell…?”
Sadie’s grin showed off her pearly whites. “First of all, Nicky has an attitude problem, and secondly, you never wave your hand toward an animal unless he knows you and is relaxed around you. They don’t like it. It intimidates them.”
“No kidding! So what’s Nicky’s beef with the world?”
“He doesn’t like men, but he’s got a heart the size of Mount Rushmore.”
“And the teeth of a crocodile.”
“At least he’s honest in his reactions, and let’s the world see who he is, unlike some people I know.” She stared at him with purposeful directness.
He shuffled and turned away to hide his dismay. She’d gotten to know him pretty well in a very short time. He needed to change the subject.
“You mentioned that you teach these dogs tricks?”
“I don’t teach them tricks. I train them.”
“Train them, you mean like—how to shake a paw and roll over?”
“Those easy parlor tricks they learned in no time at all. Most of these dogs are incredibly clever and aren’t satisfied with the easy stuff. Now we work on harder trials like fetch and count and…”
“Count? How can a dog count?”
“Watch.”