by Donna Alward
“My things are by the front door,” she said, patting her leg for Marvin to follow. “But I wouldn’t say no to the company.”
Brooklyn headed to the front door, but instead of his usual trot, Marvin plodded along behind her. “You can’t still be sleepy,” she chided him, reaching for her raincoat. “You’ve been a lazybones all night.”
He looked up at her and whined again. Maybe it was the storm, she reasoned. Marvin wasn’t himself, but they were in a strange house with the remnants of a hurricane blustering outside.
“What’s wrong?” Cole joined her a moment later, shrugging on a jacket.
“Marvin’s slow. And whining a bit. Hopefully he’s not scared.”
Cole handed her a flashlight. “Here. We should have a light.”
Together they opened the door and went outside. Marvin hesitated in the doorway, but then went down the few steps to the path and found a nearby bush to pee on. He started to trot away, so Brooklyn and Cole followed, the flashlight beam illuminating the rain that seemed to be falling sideways in the brisk wind.
But it was definitely not as bad as earlier. The worst was probably over now.
Marvin hunched over and Brooklyn followed with a poop bag; she wasn’t about to leave his mess on Cole’s lawn. But when she went to him, she saw him straining with very little progress. And then when he did have success, there was blood.
Her heart froze a little. His uncharacteristic lethargy, the whining, the blood...something was wrong with Marvin. And they were stuck on this island with no power, and no way off. Even if the storm eased, the sea was too wild for either of their boats.
“Cole?” She called through the wind, and he ran over to her right away. Had her voice sounded as panicked as she felt? “There’s something wrong with Marvin. There’s blood, and...” Her throat closed over.
Cole took the flashlight. Marvin was whining, loud enough they could hear him over the wind, and tears of fear stung her eyes. “Marv, what is it, huh? You not feeling good, buddy?”
“Let’s get him inside.”
She nodded, and they urged the dog to follow them back to the house. She toweled him off carefully, trying to stay calm. “There you go, sweetie. All dry.” She looked at Cole. “Let’s see if he’ll drink.”
They went back into the kitchen, and then Brooklyn realized that Marvin hadn’t eaten the kibble she’d put out at supper time. She’d had a fine time, eating and drinking and laughing and kissing Cole...and her best friend had been getting sick.
“He didn’t eat,” she whispered.
The dog sniffed the bowl of food, looked at the water and turned away.
“Okay,” Cole said, taking her hands. “Who’s your vet?”
“Dr. Thorpe in Liverpool. But he’s unlikely to have power...”
“Does he have a cell number?”
She nodded. “He gave it to me once when Marvin was a puppy and we had an emergency. I think it’s still in my phone...”
Cole squeezed her fingers. “Okay. I know it’s late, but call him. See if he has power.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks. “Even if he does, we can’t get off the island. Not with the swell being what it is.”
“First things first. You call. I’m going to check into some things.” He paused and kissed her forehead. “Marvin’s going to be okay, Brooklyn.”
She sniffed and pulled her hands away. “Okay. I’m going to look for the number.”
Cole slipped away and went to another room, and Brooklyn retrieved her phone. With shaking fingers, she scrolled through her contacts until she found Dr. Thorpe’s number. He didn’t answer for the first four rings, but on the fifth he picked up, and she let out a breath, determined not to cry or panic.
As they were talking, Marvin started to throw up. There was only bile, which she relayed to the vet as calmly as she could, as well as Marvin’s other symptoms. With a promise to call him back with any updates or an estimated time of arrival, she clicked off the call, started crying again and went searching for something to clean up after Marvin.
Cole came back and found her on the floor, a contrite and subdued Marvin beside her. “Did you reach him?”
She nodded and balled up the paper towel she’d found under the sink. “I’m to watch him for worsening symptoms and call him immediately if he gets worse or if we manage to get to the mainland.” She looked up at Cole, her eyes wet. “There’s no way. Even if we could handle the waves, the boats are locked away and we’d have to get them out of the boat shed and launch them...”
She got up and went to the garbage can, then washed her hands. “Oh, Cole, I’m so sorry this has happened when you’ve been so kind.”
“Don’t be silly. You haven’t done anything wrong.” Marvin was now lying on the kitchen floor and she saw the worry crease Cole’s forehead. “I made a few calls. If we can hold out another few hours, I might have a way for us to get him to the vet.”
She stared at him. “How?”
“My helicopter pilot. We have the pad here. He’s monitoring the winds and will call me the moment he’s cool with taking off.” He came forward and cupped her face in his hands. “It won’t be a fun flight, but it’ll be short. You just have to hang on a little longer.”
She nodded, incredibly touched amid all the worry tangling in her stomach.
Then watched as Cole, in his thousand-dollar sweater, knelt down gently, picked up all eighty pounds of her sick dog in his arms and went toward the living room. She followed him, swallowing sobs at the caring and loving way he was handling her beloved pet. And in the living room, instead of putting him on the rug in front of the fire, Cole put Marvin down on the sofa and sat down beside him. “There you are, dude,” he said soothingly, and Brooklyn sat down on the other side of Marvin.
“Cole, your sofa...he might be sick again. Or...worse.”
Cole met her gaze. “So what? It’s just a sofa. He needs to be comfortable and loved. And you need to be beside him.”
She had no idea how to answer, so she simply stroked Marvin’s head and prayed he’d be okay, and that this was some weird thing and he wasn’t very ill at all.
* * *
Cole and Brooklyn sat with Marvin into the night. Though Cole tried feeding him by hand and offering him water, the dog wouldn’t eat or drink. He threw up again, but Cole had retrieved the towel from earlier and put it nearby. It saved the sofa and towels were easily replaced.
Dogs weren’t. Even though Cole had never had such a companion, all he needed to do was see the look of anguish on Brooklyn’s face to know that Marvin had to be okay. Cole would do anything in his power to ensure it. Even wake his pilot and have a chopper chartered in the tail end of a hurricane.
Besides, he was horribly fond of Marvin himself. Other than his two best friends, he’d never received such an enthusiastic greeting as he did when he entered Brooklyn’s yard and Marvin came running out to meet him, barking and with a wildly wagging tail.
His cell rang and he jumped, then answered it. The call was brief, and then he clicked off and met Brooklyn’s hopeful gaze.
“He’ll be here in about an hour. It’d be faster, but he’s got to deal with the wind. Call the vet and give him the heads-up. You’re sure he has power?”
“The clinic is also on a generator. I’ll call him.”
“I’m arranging for a car to meet us at the airstrip.”
“Cole, I don’t know what to say.” Her eyes were luminous with tears and gratitude. “This is... I can’t even tell you.”
“Hush. Make your call and I’ll make sure we’re ready to go.”
It took some doing to get a car service, and a promise of a very nice monetary incentive. He also called Dan, updating him on the situation and letting him know there’d be a helicopter landing shortly. He wasn’t surprised when Dan and Raelynn showed up ten minutes later, concern etc
hed on their faces. They weren’t just employees, they were wonderful people and Brooklyn had won them over, too.
Too. There was no denying that he was more involved with her than he ever intended. That kiss in the kitchen tonight had been soft and sweet and so different from anything he’d ever experienced. For a guy who didn’t do intimacy, he was up to his neck in it right now.
Raelynn had made tea and pushed a cup in Brooklyn’s hands. “Here. Drink some of this and breathe.”
It was good advice, but everyone was on edge. Marvin had gotten down from the sofa, but he was so devoid of his usual energy. He once again sniffed at the bowls but turned away. He whined pitifully and then lay down on the floor, resting on his side.
Cole saw Brooklyn’s face start to crumple again, so he went to her and squeezed her shoulder.
Moments later they heard the rhythmic whomp-whomp of the helicopter approaching. Cole shrugged on his jacket, then held out Brooklyn’s so she could slip her arms in. When Dan gave the go-ahead, he once again hefted Marvin into his arms—the dead weight made him stagger slightly—and headed toward the helipad.
Brooklyn jogged beside him, carrying a blanket that Raelynn had pressed into her hands.
“Hang on tight,” the pilot shouted over the noise, but his face wore a grin. “Fasten your seat belts. It’ll be bumpy but short.”
Brooklyn’s face was pale and he wondered if she was afraid of the helicopter or for Marvin. She’d mentioned going on a ride with Ernest once, but that wasn’t in the dark in nasty weather, either. He patted her hand and gave her a headset. Then he put on his own.
“Don’t worry,” he said into the mic. “Dave’s a former navy pilot. He’s used to landing on a pitching deck. Dry land is a breeze, right Dave?”
“Yes, sir,” Dave answered. “Ready?”
It was not an easy trip, even though it was, as Dave promised, a short one. Wind buffeted the aircraft and more than once Cole’s stomach did a hollow flip. Brooklyn’s fingers were tight in Marvin’s fur, and Cole’s brow wrinkled in concern as Marvin panted heavily. Was it the stress of the ride, or his illness? Thankfully, they weren’t in the air very long, and were soon nearing the tiny Liverpool airport. Dave set the chopper down expertly and promised to stay nearby for the return trip whenever Cole required it.
For the third time, Cole lifted Marvin—still bundled in the blanket—out of the helicopter and to the waiting cab he’d convinced to pick them up.
The cabbie lifted an eyebrow at the sight of the dog but said nothing about it as he opened the back door for them. “Dr. Thorpe’s vet clinic,” Cole said as Brooklyn crawled in the other side. He realized that the dog had always been sandwiched between the two of them since he’d started getting sick.
“Have to take the long way. One of the roads is flooded. Heck of a storm,” the cabbie said.
“Whatever gets us there fast and safe,” Cole replied.
The sun wasn’t yet up, and power was out, making everything eerily dark. The headlights illuminated a narrow swath, but enough that Cole could see downed branches and a few trees snapped off. Lights were on at a square building, though, with a parking lot out front. “Looks like the doc has a generator running,” the driver said, pulling in. “Lucky for you, eh?”
“Very.” Brooklyn leaned forward toward the front seat. “Thank you so much for coming out to get us. It means a lot.”
“Oh, no problem.”
Cole knew it was no problem because he’d paid handsomely for the service. But he admired Brooklyn’s kindness and courtesy. She appreciated people, and he liked that about her.
Dr. Thorpe came out and met them at the door, and for the first time, Cole didn’t have to lift Marvin. Cole was in good shape, but eighty pounds of deadweight dog was a challenge. He and Brooklyn followed the vet into the building and then into an exam room. Cole stood back while Brooklyn relayed Marvin’s symptoms, and then the two of them went to the waiting room while Dr. Thorpe and his assistant, who Cole quickly learned was his wife, did the examination.
He looked over at Brooklyn, who was leaned back in the chair with her eyes closed. She looked exhausted, with circles under her eyes and swollen lids where she’d cried. “He’s gonna be okay,” Cole reassured her. “He’s in good hands now.”
She opened her eyes. “I know. Part of me is relieved and glad that we’re here. The other part of me is now nervous for the diagnosis.”
“Get some rest. You’ve been up all night, and it’s nearly time for the sun to come up again.”
“I will once Dr. Thorpe has come out to talk to us.” But she turned her weary head in his direction. “But thank you, Cole. You moved heaven and earth to get us here. I can never repay you. You’re a good man.”
Cole flushed under her praise, but the words that rang in his ears were the ones calling him a good man.
He was a successful man. A relatively smart man. A very rich man. But he wasn’t sure he’d ever been called “good,” and the compliment went straight to his heart.
He wanted to be a good man. And more accurately, he wanted to be a good man for her.
Wasn’t life just full of surprises?
CHAPTER TEN
BROOKLYN NEVER DID fall asleep. It seemed hours until Dr. Thorpe came out and told them that Marvin had a foreign object in his stomach, and that he needed to do more tests. He further explained that exploratory surgery was most certainly necessary and as quickly as possible, to remove the blockage and ensure the fastest recovery. Brooklyn agreed right away, and Dr. Thorpe had disappeared to carry on.
Now she couldn’t sleep. Not while she was waiting. She was exhausted, and sometimes she sat with her eyes closed, but that was only because her lids were so heavy. Her brain was too busy to close down, as well.
Cole didn’t sleep, either. He sat next to her and held her hand. Dr. Thorpe had told them to feel free to use the coffee machine, and Cole got up and made her a cup of coffee and handed her the paper cup before making one for himself. Minutes ticked by, lots of them. The sun came up, and at seven thirty one of the front office staff came in. “Oh,” she said. “I didn’t realize there was an emergency call. Do you need anything?”
“We’re fine, thank you,” Brooklyn said.
“Well, let me know. I came in to cancel today’s appointments and to feed the animals we have kenneled in the back.”
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Dr. Thorpe returned with a smile on his face. “Good news. Turns out it was a bit of netting. We removed it and will watch him carefully for the next bit, run some fluids and make sure there are no complications. In a few days, he should be good as new.”
Brooklyn let out a massive sigh of relief. This whole time she had been fighting against the thoughts about what she’d do without her beloved pet, but now that he was going to be okay the possibilities crowded her mind and she was both thankful and overwhelmed.
Cole stood and shook the vet’s hand. “That’s great news.”
“Getting him here quickly helped. The sooner we can treat these issues, the better the prognosis. Marvin’s in excellent health otherwise.”
Brooklyn frowned, trying to think of what Marvin might have eaten and where. “Netting? I guess he might have picked it up on the beach. We do walk there every day. But I didn’t notice him eating anything strange.”
“It’s hard to say. Dogs are like kids. The moment you have your back turned...” He grinned, and Brooklyn could see the tiredness behind his dark brown eyes.
“I can’t thank you enough, Dr. Thorpe. Thank you for coming in and for having a generator.” She smiled weakly.
“You’re welcome. I’d like to keep Marvin here until tomorrow at least. Particularly where you’re on the island, making sure he’s good and stable is important. It’s not like I live just around the corner.”
“Of course. Whatever you think is best. Can I see hi
m?”
“Certainly. He’s still out, though.”
Brooklyn went back and bit her lip when she saw Marvin resting, still unconscious from the anesthesia. His tongue hung out of his mouth, but his breaths were nice and even. She patted his head and gave him a kiss, and said a little prayer of thanks that he was going to be okay.
When she went out to the waiting room, Cole was chatting with the woman at the desk. “Hey,” he said, smiling at her. “Jen says that power’s out almost everywhere, but she heard that the lights are on at the Sandpiper Resort. If they have a room, why don’t we head there and get some sleep? That way you can be close to Marvin. If he can go home tomorrow, I’ll have Dave fly us all home. If not, we can always fly back and bring a boat back to pick him up. But for today, you can get some sleep and not have to worry.”
Right now she was so tired the thought of a comfortable bed nearly made her weep. “If they have a room, I’ll say yes. I’m ready to drop.”
“Same. Give me a few minutes to sort some arrangements.”
He was looking after everything, and while she was thankful, it also felt a bit strange. She wasn’t used to people taking charge and making sure her comforts were seen to. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it really, or if her unsettled thoughts were all part of the emotion and fatigue of the past few hours. So she let it go, deciding they could talk about it later.
One cab ride later and he had them checked into the only room left at the Sandpiper. “We’re lucky to have not lost power,” the woman behind the desk said with a smile. “But that also means we’re full up. You got our last room.”
“Perfect.” Cole sent her a winning smile and then held out his hand to Brooklyn. “Shall we?”
The only room left was of course the suite, complete with a patio overlooking the ocean and a massive king-size bed with six pillows and a silk duvet that looked like a fluffy cloud. “Big enough for the both of us,” Cole said, his voice utterly practical. “What do you want first? Sleep or food?”