For Keeps

by Rachel Lacey

  “He out there catching crawfish?” T.J. asked.

  She nodded.

  He tugged her around behind the horses and gave her a quick kiss. She melted like butter in his arms. “He talks a lot with you.”

  “I work with kids. They tend to like me.” She saw the frustration on his face. It was killing him that he couldn’t get his nephew to open up to him, and she hated it for him.

  She kissed him back, then pulled from his arms before Noah caught them canoodling. “You’re coming with me to The Watering Hole tonight, right?”

  He nodded. “I’ve got to drop him off around supper time.”

  “And I’ve got to get the dogs home. Want to come over after you drop Noah off?”

  Heat flared in his eyes. “Love to.”

  “All right then.”

  “Please tell me you’re wearing those pink lace panties again.” The look on his face reminded her of how they’d left things last night.

  Yep, she owed him one. Or two.

  “Sorry,” she said, and his face fell. “These are green.” She leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “And really, really skimpy.”

  He sucked in a breath. “Green is my new favorite color.”

  “I bet it is.” She winked. “Did the calf make it?”

  He nodded. “It was close, but he pulled through.”

  “Glad to hear it. I’ll make it up to you tonight.” She gave him a playful smile and pulled away to pack up the remains of their picnic.

  T.J. snagged a cookie and walked off toward the stream. He stuffed the cookie into his mouth, then kicked off his boots, rolled up his jeans, and joined his nephew in the water. Ralph, who had been poking his nose underwater to see what creatures Noah was hunting for, hopped with joy, splashing them both.

  Noah giggled, and T.J. looked like he’d just won the lottery.

  Merry concentrated on her task to keep from just sitting and watching them. When she glanced up, they each held crawfish, wielding them at each other in a mock shellfish battle. She fumbled in her back pocket for her phone and snapped a picture to capture the moment.

  She’d just finished filling Tango’s saddlebags when they joined her, both wet and smiling.

  “Is that a boy thing?” she asked. “Crawfish wars?”

  “Must be.” T.J. threw an arm over Noah’s shoulders and squeezed.

  They rode back to the farm together in good spirits. The dogs trotted beside them, tongues out and heads down, exhausted. They’d be ready for a good nap after this.

  While T.J. and Noah tended to the horses, Merry tucked Amber and Ralph into the extra stall with fresh water and adjusted the fan that blew over them. They both plopped down in the clean shavings, stretched out, and closed their eyes.

  She took Chip and Salsa out for a quick romp and potty break, then put them back in with the others just in time to follow T.J. and Noah to the house.

  While they went upstairs to shower and change, she settled on the couch and thumbed through messages on her phone. Anything to keep from thinking about T.J. upstairs, naked and sudsy in the shower. She wished she could have joined him, and not just for naughty reasons. She was sweaty, and dirty, and who knew what was on her feet after wading around in that stream.

  Crawfish poop? Yuck.

  She shook away the thought. They’d be dropping Noah off at his mom’s in a couple of hours, then heading to Merry’s house. She’d shower then. Maybe she’d even invite T.J. to join her.

  The boys came downstairs, and they spent the rest of the afternoon playing board games. Merry got her butt whupped at Ticket to Ride by Noah and Monopoly by T.J. Both were fiercely competitive and strategic thinkers. Fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants Merry didn’t stand a chance.

  “Geez, you could have at least let me win one,” she whined as they were putting the games away. Noah sent her a sweet smile that belied his ruthless winning streak.

  T.J. scoffed. “Let you win? We Jamesons never let anyone win. Makes you appreciate it that much more when you do win.”

  “Uh huh.” She shook her head, fairly certain her dad had let her win on many an occasion, and she’d turned out just fine.

  She loaded all four dogs into her car—Amber would stay at her house while she and T.J. were out tonight—and followed T.J. as he drove Noah to Amy’s.

  He pulled up in front of a brick-front apartment building in an older, working-class part of town. If idyllic Dogwood had a ghetto, this was it, and Merry hated that this was where Noah had to grow up. At least he had his uncle’s farm to roam whenever he wanted.

  Noah jumped out of the truck and came around to her window. “Can I take Amber down to Brendan’s house, just for a minute?”

  “That should be okay. What did your uncle say?”

  “He said it was fine if you didn’t mind.”

  Merry nodded. “Don’t take her inside though, okay? Do you want me to come with you?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll ring the bell, and Brendan will come out.”

  She got out of the car and helped retrieve Amber from the back without freeing the rest of the pack. “Bring her right back. These guys are all exhausted. They’re on their way to my house to sleep for the rest of the evening.”

  “I will.” He took the leash and started down the street with Amber, looking so confident and proud that an ache rose in Merry’s throat.

  T.J. stood on the sidewalk, watching. “They look good together.”

  She looked up into his dark eyes. “You ever think about keeping her?”

  He rocked back on his heels, and a muscle ticked in his cheek. “Dammit, Merry—”

  She threw her hands out. “Forget I said it.” She hadn’t meant to. She’d known it was too soon.

  “You just can’t stop pushing, can you? Look, you’ll get your donation, and I’ve fostered her without complaint, but a deal’s a deal. You take her back after camp’s over.”

  Well, that stung. “It was just a question. You seemed like you were getting fond of her, and it’s the closest Noah will ever come to having a dog of his own.”

  “Don’t put that guilt on me. Amy has allergies or she’d have gotten him a dog years ago.”

  “But you don’t. Amber adores you, your farm, and your nephew. Why not keep her?”

  He took a step closer, his eyes narrowed. “Maybe for the same reason you’re tossing me out as soon as camp’s over. You don’t do long term with men, and I don’t make long-term commitments with a dog.”

  Merry stepped back against the hot bricks of the apartment building and crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, tell me how you really feel.”

  He shook his head and stared at her, like he had no idea what to say. Neither did she. She didn’t want to fight with him. She didn’t even really want to think about giving him up once camp was over. She just wanted to take him home, have her way with him, and go to The Watering Hole later to dance and drink beer together.

  Why did this have to be so complicated? She’d never had trouble keeping things light with a guy before. But her feelings were hurt now, and there was no taking it back. She blinked past the sting of tears.

  “You know, I should probably take my dogs and go home. You wait for Noah and Amber. I’ll see you Monday at camp.”

  He moved to block her. “Seriously? You’re going to walk away?”

  “I just—”

  Tires squealed down the street, followed by a thump and a scream that stopped her heart cold in her chest. T.J. was already running, sprinting down the street, and she followed. Her legs felt like rubber, her heart pounding.

  Three houses down, Noah lay in the street, his shirt stained with blood.

  Oh God. Noah…

  The calm veneer she wore during emergencies at work failed her as she raced toward him. Her chest simply refused to draw air. Noah. She’d stabilize him, patch him up, and keep him calm until the EMTs got here.

  She was trained for this. Her hands shook, and she clenched them into fists.

  A
nd then she was in front of him. She fell to her knees, and Noah looked up at her, his face streaked with tears. An anguished wail tore from his throat.

  “It’s okay, sweetie. Where are you hurt?”

  Two fat tears slid over his cheeks. “Not me. Amber…”

  Merry looked down, realizing for the first time that Noah was crouched, not crumpled, over the prone form of Amber.

  The dog lay without moving, her golden fur streaked red with blood.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  T.J.’s knees went limp with relief. Noah was okay. He knelt beside the boy and gently checked him over to make sure it was true, then scooped him into his arms and squeezed the daylights out of him. He felt like he’d aged ten years since the horrifying sound of the car’s impact.

  The car, a white Nissan, had stopped a little ways down the road. He needed to check on the driver and find out what the hell had happened.

  “Amber—” Noah sobbed, wiggling out of his arms.

  T.J. looked down at the dog. She lay motionless on the asphalt, eyes wide and glassy. Blood ran from an open fracture on her right front leg. Her breathing was quick and irregular as her body went into shock.

  Merry crouched at Amber’s side, speaking softly to her, one hand on the dog’s shoulder to keep her from trying to stand up.

  “What were you doing in the road?” T.J. asked as he brought Noah to the curb and sat him down.

  His nephew rocked back and forth, arms clasped around himself, staring wide-eyed at the dog in the road.

  Jesus.

  An elderly woman walked up to them, tears streaming down her face. “He just came out of nowhere! Oh, my heavens. Are you okay?”

  “He’s fine, ma’am. Were you driving the car that hit the dog?”

  “Dog?” She looked over and blanched. “Oh, dear. I did hit something. I knew it. Oh—”

  She was shaking so badly that T.J. eased her down on the curb next to Noah. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, just shook up.” Her voice wavered. “The dog… is it dead?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  She put an arm around Noah. “I was driving along, and all of a sudden he was right there in front of me, running like the devil was at his heels. I thought I’d hit you—” She squeezed Noah as more tears ran from her eyes.

  The boy pulled away, arms flapping at his sides. He stared at Amber with wide, unfocused eyes.

  T.J. needed to get Amy down here to get him. Noah didn’t need to sit around and watch this. The truth was, the dog could die at any moment. T.J. had no idea how serious her internal injuries were or whether she’d sustained head trauma.

  “Stay put, both of you.” He walked into the street and crouched beside Merry.

  “Her right front leg’s broken, and she may have internal injuries. She’s going into shock.” Merry spoke in the calm, even tone of a nurse, but her eyes gleamed with anguish.

  “I’m a vet, remember? I can handle this.” He bent over Amber. There were no external signs of injury other than the busted leg, but her insides might tell a different story. He felt first along her spine and found no obvious fractures, then gently probed her abdomen.

  Amber yelped and struggled, but Merry held her gently. Her abdomen was firm, possibly from internal bleeding.

  “We need to get her to the vet. You go call David. Then bring me something I can use to splint this leg, drumsticks, a ruler, anything like that. I’ll need disinfectant and a cloth to wrap it with, and something firm to move her on, an ironing board, cardboard, whatever you can get your hands on. Go quickly. And send Amy down here to get Noah.”

  Merry nodded and raced up the street toward Amy’s apartment building.

  Noah sat on the curb, still rocking, eyes wide behind his glasses. Beside him, the elderly woman looked similarly stricken, one hand pressed against her chest, visibly shaking.

  Amy burst from the building and ran toward them. She grabbed Noah and clutched him to her chest. “Oh, my God, baby. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She glanced at Amber and winced, then turned to the woman sitting on the curb. She spoke to her quietly. The woman nodded, then reached for her purse and followed Amy and Noah in the direction of their apartment.

  A few minutes later, Merry came out, her arms laden with supplies. She sat next to him, spreading out clean cloths, an ace bandage, a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, a plastic ruler, and a wooden spoon. “What can I do to help?”

  “Did you call David?”

  She nodded. “He’ll be waiting for us, and Liv is on her way to get the other dogs out of my car and drive them home.”

  “Okay, let’s clean and splint this leg first. You hold her head for me.” Wounded animals could become aggressive, no matter how docile they normally were. While Merry held her, he poured peroxide over the wound and dabbed at it with a washcloth. Amber whined, but made no attempt to bite either of them.

  Next, he took the ruler and the spoon and positioned them on either side of the fracture. He wound the ace bandage around her leg, securing them in place. As makeshift splints went, this one was top notch.

  One of Amy’s neighbors ran up with an unassembled cardboard box, laid flat. “Amy called me. Will this work?” she asked.

  “That’ll do just fine. Thank you.” He took it and laid it on the ground behind the dog, then turned to Merry. “On the count of three, we’re going to slide her onto the cardboard.”

  She nodded and moved her arms under Amber’s front end, putting herself in the danger zone if the dog lashed out as she was moved. T.J. slid his palms under Amber’s haunches. “One, two, three.”

  They lifted and slid her onto the cardboard. Again Amber yelped. He eyed his truck, then Merry’s SUV. “Put your dogs in the truck. We’ll drive her in the CR-V.”

  Merry didn’t stop to question, just ran to get the three dogs from her car. She hauled them toward the truck—each one straining toward Amber—and boosted them inside one by one. T.J. flinched, praying no harm came to the interior of the F350, but the backseat of a pickup truck was no place for a dog with possible internal or spinal injuries. They could lay her flat in the back of the CR-V.

  When Merry returned, they lifted the cardboard between them. It sagged beneath Amber’s weight as they carried her to the CR-V. Merry had already put the backseats down, and they slid the cardboard into the open space.

  “I’ll ride beside her,” she said, already climbing in.

  He sensed it was pointless to argue so he slid behind the wheel, pushed the seat back, and drove as fast as he safely could toward Dogwood Animal Hospital. He worried about the emotional toll for Noah if she didn’t make it, but as he glanced in the rearview mirror at the blood-streaked dog, his stomach clenched.

  He didn’t want Amber to die either.

  * * *

  Merry paced in the exam room until T.J. pulled her into his arms. “Poor Noah. If she dies, he’s going to hold himself responsible.”

  “I never should have agreed to let him walk her down there alone.” His voice sounded gruff.

  She leaned into him. “But he looked so proud.”

  The door opened, and Dr. Johnson came in.

  Merry’s heart jumped into her throat. She’d lost fosters before. It was part of the job. She’d cried for each of them because she loved them all, but for Noah’s sake, if not her own, she couldn’t lose this one.

  “I have good news,” Dr. Johnson said.

  She sagged in T.J.’s arms. “Oh, thank goodness.”

  Dr. Johnson gave them a second look, as if just noticing the way T.J. held her. His eyebrows raised. “She’ll need surgery to repair the fracture in her right front leg. I’ve scheduled it for first thing tomorrow morning. Other than that, I see only bumps and bruises. No significant internal bleeding, no sign of head trauma.”

  “That’s… wow. That’s amazing,” Merry said.

  “She’s in shock. We’ve started her on IV fluids and pain medication and splinted her leg for the night. She’
ll rest tonight to get her strength up for surgery tomorrow.”

  Merry swallowed over a new kind of fear. Surgery would be another thousand or so dollars that she didn’t have. This pit she was in just kept getting deeper. Every time she managed to claw herself partway up, the bottom fell out all over again.

  But Amber was going to be okay.

  The money would come. Extra shifts had been hard to come by this month, but it was summertime. Lots of people took vacations in the summer, and Merry would cover for everyone she could. She’d get more events scheduled. She’d find a way to fix this.

  Her father hadn’t raised a quitter. She wasn’t going down without a fight.

  * * *

  T.J. hadn’t been dancing in too many years to count. He’d been gifted with two left feet, a Jameson family legacy. Therefore, it was utterly ridiculous that he’d been the one who insisted they come to The Watering Hole tonight.

  Something in Merry had dimmed since Amber’s accident. The light in her eyes had lost a few watts, and he had a hunch a night out might charge it back up. Of course, he had a few other ideas that might cheer her up later, but going out and socializing was a big part of Merry, so he hadn’t wanted her to stay home just because she was worried about the dog.

  Amber was going to be fine. Her camp days were over, but she’d make a full recovery. Noah was still upset, but hopefully the good news about Amber would help. He’d been so agitated that Amy had put him to bed early.

  T.J. pulled open the heavy wooden door to The Watering Hole, and bluegrass music spilled into the night. He preferred country, but bluegrass wasn’t bad, and he was curious to hear Merry’s father play.

  She stepped through ahead of him and headed straight for the bar. Her mood was still somewhat subdued, although she seemed to loosen up a bit after she settled herself on a bar stool and ordered a Blue Moon.

  She’d showered and changed after they finally made it to her house, and now she smelled like fresh honeysuckle, which was almost as distracting as the cleavage peeking out of her lacy pink tank top. He sat beside her and ordered a Yuengling.