In Service of Love

by Laurel Greer

  His slow-spreading smile sent tingles skittering through her limbs. “If you have any questions, ask. I used to work construction back when I was young and naive and playing guitar didn’t pay the bills.”

  Maggie bit her lip. Strap a tool belt around his waist and dirty up those jeans a bit, and yeah, she could see him wielding a hammer. She could picture him with an electric guitar slung around his broad shoulders, too. His stacked leather-and-metal bracelets would clink against the body of the instrument, cradled below his flat abs... Mmm. No. That full, groomed beard and wavy hair had to belong to an acoustic player. Ballads in a coffee shop for this guy.

  Mouth suddenly dry, she swallowed. “The glamor of library science won out?”

  He laughed. “That, and parenting.”

  Oof, those glasses were sexy. As was a man who embraced his responsibility.

  Had her dad ever talked about being a father in such an affectionate manner?

  Don’t even go there, Maggie. Dating anyone, let alone a single parent, was a big no-no in her books—why start something up that would inevitably end and scar a poor kid in the process? But had she been looking for something serious, Asher Matsuda would have been an interesting candidate.

  Provided he was interested in women, too. Garnet had mentioned he’d lost his husband last year.

  “I should, uh, run those books through the self-checkout,” she said. “Jacks and I have to get back to work.”

  He put a hand to the placket of his button-down. Her brain so wanted to read that as a hey, Maggie, look at my pecs signal. She flicked her gaze upward before she could properly evaluate the state of his chest. Wasn’t fair to check someone out who didn’t necessarily welcome the attention.

  “You’ll put me out of a job,” he teased, turning on a boot heel and taking her books behind the circulation desk. He raised a brow as Jackson ambled up beside her, nose reaching the top of the counter. “Your buddy there could probably even bowl me over.”

  She shook her head. “He’s well trained.”

  “Minus the yelping?”

  With a humph, she narrowed her eyes. “He’s just easily startled.”

  Doubt crossed his face. “I—”

  She slapped her library card down on the counter. The dog whimpered.

  Jitters spread in Maggie’s stomach. Yeah, two-thirds of dogs failed their service training. But of the six dogs she had trained to date for an organization in Missoula, she had a perfect record. There wasn’t any official licensing process, but between Maggie and Lachlan, they had a spotless reputation, Lachlan with search and rescue dogs, Maggie with service animals. And once her brother’s expansion was up and running, he’d hire more staff and have a larger capacity.

  “Seems you have your hands full with that guy,” Asher finished quietly, passing over the checked-out instruction manuals. Their hands brushed, sending a shimmer of warmth up her arm. Her breath caught and she glanced at his face to make sure he hadn’t picked up on the reaction.

  His brown eyes were a little wide behind those sexy nerd glasses. Agh, he had noticed, and was no doubt trying to figure out how to let her down gently. He probably had to fend off admirers on an hourly basis. He had no way of knowing she would never count herself among them.

  “Uh, Dad?” A small voice with an East Coast inflection equal to Asher’s came from over his shoulder. “I need help with—Ooh, that dog is so pretty. He’s blue.”

  The girl had the awkward look of a kid who’d grown a whole lot in a short period of time. She was almost as tall as Maggie, not that five feet one was a height to aspire to. The girl rushed to her dad’s side. When her gaze fell on Jackson’s vest, her smile faded. “Oh. He’s working.”

  Maggie nodded. “Thanks for noticing. It’s important not to pet him.”

  “I know. One of my friends at my old Hebrew school had a dog to help him with his autism.” She bit her lip before adding hopefully, “But sometimes, I would visit his apartment and the dog got to take off his vest so I could pet him...”

  “Ruthie,” Asher warned quietly.

  “It’s okay,” Maggie said, unable to resist the hope in his daughter’s expression. “Maybe after Jackson finishes his training.”

  If Jackson finishes his training.

  The faint chime of the Episcopalian church bell marking the hour filtered through the closed front door. She grimaced. “Crud, I’m late. See you around.”

  “I look forward to it.” A hint of pleasure tilted one corner of Asher’s mouth up. Good, she hadn’t crossed any lines too badly... It spread to a full-on curious smile as he continued with, “Books are due in two weeks.”

  So was Jackson—in two weeks, Maggie’s brother would formally assess the Dane for suitability as a service dog.

  Could she get this done in time while managing her clinic and following through on her promises to help her brother with his construction work? Anxious pressure built in her chest. Muttering her thanks and returning Asher’s casual wave, she led the dog out of the library, groaning as he cowered at the thud, thud, thud of approaching skateboard wheels on the wooden, raised sidewalk.

  She raised her palm to bring him to attention. Come on, big guy. You gotta figure this out.

  For his own sake, and hers.

  The only thing Maggie disliked more than relationships was failure.

  Chapter Two

  “Dad, I told you, I don’t want to sign up for floor hockey!”

  Asher sucked in a calming breath as his daughter’s voice careened toward a whine. Three days had passed since he suggested she try something other than skiing, and he was no closer to convincing her. “I’m not saying you have to. But you should give something a try.”

  They sat in the atrium of the Sutter Mountain Community Center. The registration desk ran one side of the airy, glass-fronted space, and a few people stood in line, waiting to pay to get in for the Sunday morning public swim. The entrance to the pool sat kitty-corner to a small coffee bar. Asher and Ruth occupied one of the tables, the remnants of their lunch gathered in red plastic sandwich baskets.

  He shoved the magazine-sized registration guide toward his daughter. “Here. If you’re not liking what I’m suggesting, then show me what looks good.”

  She riffled to the back of the guide, smacked the page open and pushed it back to him. “Harper said training and fundraising have already started!”

  A glossy advertisement splashed across the inside cover, the kids in the assortment of pictures either laughing in their snow gear or racing pell-mell down a hill.

  His heart sank.

  “Ruth.” He slid off his glasses and massaged the tight muscles around his eyes. “What about just taking lessons from Garnet and Uncle Caleb this season? And then if you really like it, we can see about racing next winter.” That would give him more time to squirrel away money for club fees and expensive equipment.

  “But I want to race now.”

  “Your enthusiasm is admirable, peanut, but I’m not sure joining the club is in the cards this year.”

  Her mouth tightened at the corners. “Da-ad.”

  Full-on whine-zone. Ten-year-old achievement: unlocked. He resisted the urge to pull out the, “I can’t understand you when you’re whining,” strategy he and Alex had used during Ruth’s preschool and kindergarten years. He put his glasses back on. “Try again, Ruthie.”

  Her throat bobbed. “You never said no to me trying new things back home.”

  Ouch. That one landed right between the ribs. Her voice had dropped to little-girl small. He hated anything that stole her spark. Especially when he was the thief.

  “I thought we agreed not to compare Sutter Creek and New York,” he said.

  She crossed her arms over the sequin star spangling the front of her T-shirt. Her lip wobbled and her gaze darted to the side. She didn’t answer.

 
“It’s normal to do that, though,” he said. “I miss Brooklyn, too.”

  And Alex.

  Though when Maggie had been in the library, her eyes had locked on his, and he’d felt about thirty pounds lighter. For a second, he’d wondered if there was room for something new in his life. Someone.

  Ruth screwed her face up. Tears glinted on her lashes.

  Ah, hell. What was he thinking? Sutter Creek might be their new beginning, but it wasn’t his new beginning. It was still too soon. For his sake, and for Ruth’s.

  “I’m not sad because of moving.” She directed her claim toward the coffee counter, not to him, an obvious tell she wasn’t being honest. “I’m mad because you won’t let me ski.”

  And because I moved you across the country.

  And cancer stole your Papa.

  Stole my love.

  Reality struck. They’d lost all that, and he wasn’t doing what he could to give her something healthy she was asking for? Rubbing the heel of his hand across his forehead, he scrambled for a compromise. Maybe Garnet knew the club operators and could swing a discount for him. Or was there a way he could make some extra cash to refill the incidentals budget? His hours at work were fixed, so there weren’t any extra shifts at the branch. Maybe one of the local bars had a slot for a solo musician that would pay something? He snorted at the prospect. He hadn’t performed in years, unless singing along to Lady Gaga in the car with Ruth counted.

  “I’ll see what I can do, okay?” he said.

  Ruth wasn’t paying attention. She straightened in her chair, staring raptly at the giant blue-gray dog leading his handler past the pool entrance and toward the seating area where Asher and Ruth were sitting. “It’s that same dog!”

  “So it is.” Who could pay attention to the furry monster when his lead was being held by Maggie Reid, though? Asher’s heart skipped a beat. Wow. A year ago, he’d thought his heart would never start beating again, let alone react to someone who wasn’t the man he’d loved since he was nineteen.

  Maggie wore a long-sleeved T-shirt, a flirty skirt and patterned leggings. A human rainbow, nothing like the plain scrubs she’d had on when she came into the library. A wrap headband held her halo of blond curls off her face. Intense curiosity rose in his belly—her hair looked like it might be soft, but who knew with curls? Alex’s had been coarse to the point that he’d never let his hair grow out longer than half an inch. But Maggie’s—her locks bounced, and they were kinda loose. Maybe they—

  “Dad, you’re staring.”

  He jolted. “I am?”

  Ruth’s brow knit. “Why are you smiling like that?”

  Ah, crap. “Like what?”

  “Like... I don’t know. It’s weird.” Ruth rolled her eyes before waving at Maggie. “Hi, Dr. Reid!”

  Maggie startled, jumping almost as much as the dog did on his short lead. She lifted a hand in greeting.

  “Ruth,” Asher growled.

  “What? I used my manners,” she defended.

  “That you did.” He lifted one corner of his mouth up, trying to wordlessly apologize to Maggie for Ruth having caught her off guard.

  Maggie nodded back and kept going, then seemed to question her decision, veering toward them instead of continuing on to the coffee counter. She stopped a few feet from their table, as did the Dane. The canine was so tall he lined up eye to eye with Asher, seated in his chair.

  “Maggie Reid,” Asher greeted. “And the fearless wonder dog.”

  She grimaced. “I wish. I’m going to have to get pretty intensive with this guy. He hid from the neighborhood flock of starlings this morning.”

  “I want to play with him so badly,” Ruth said hopefully. “But I know what you said about him working.”

  Maggie pursed her lips in contemplation. “There’s a dog park around back of the pool. If you aren’t busy, you could come with me. I’d like to see him around kids when he isn’t in uniform.”

  Ruth perked up.

  “Once Ruth here picks an activity to sign up for, we could come for a bit,” Asher suggested.

  Ruth’s smile faded. “Nothing looks good.”

  Nothing that didn’t cost a fortune.

  “Do you like chill activities, Ruth, or stuff that’s more exciting?” the veterinarian asked.

  “Definitely exciting,” Ruth said. “My friends are on the ski racing team, and I want to join, too.”

  Maggie shifted her gaze to Asher, lips parted as if she was holding back a question.

  He gave her a little headshake, guilt squeezing his insides over not being able to fill his daughter’s request.

  “There’s swimming, too,” Maggie suggested. “And I know it doesn’t involve speed at all, but the artist who teaches afternoon classes in the multipurpose room is mega talented.”

  “I don’t know.” Ruth’s mouth pressed in a stubborn line. It was like looking at his mom when Ruth made that face. And just like her, Ruth didn’t respond well to bulldozing. Plus, he didn’t want to provoke a blowup in front of a virtual stranger. “Tell you what, Ruth. Why don’t we go to the dog park first? Maybe some fresh air will help you decide. We can sign you up for something after.”

  She acquiesced with a wary nod.

  “Lead the way,” he said, motioning to Maggie. He hadn’t pictured Sunday including time with a cute veterinarian, but he couldn’t say he minded. Even if his appreciation was going to have to stay hands-off.

  He followed Maggie and her furry shadow out a glass door. Her tennis-style skirt twitched as she walked. Something in his chest twitched in response.

  Don’t get carried away there, champ.

  The path was wide enough for two plus a dog, and wound past a grassy patch and a row of pine trees. It ended at a fenced enclosure where a Lab and a Jack Russell were playing fetch with their owner. He jogged a couple of steps to catch up to Maggie.

  “You know,” he said conversationally, “my twin is a vet.”

  “You have a twin?” She ran her teeth along her lower lip. Her gaze was fixed somewhere on his chest or arms. Good move on hitting the free weights he kept in his garage before heading out this morning. “Are you, uh, identical?”

  He shook his head. “Fraternal. And Dave takes after my mom’s side of the family. He’s all Klein.” The past rushed in and he snorted. “Teachers had a hard time believing my brothers and I were related, given Caleb looks more like our dad and I resemble both sides.”

  “I got that with my older sister sometimes—we don’t look alike aside from our hair color.” She winced. “It’s not the same, is it?”

  “Not entirely. But you should hear some of the questions I get about Ruth having two fathers. Being biracial is nothing in comparison.” He paused, unsure of how much to divulge. Maggie seemed accepting so far, and admitting a few of his worries to her might give him a read on how many problems he could anticipate facing. “It was one of my biggest fears about moving—how people in a new town would accept me. Ruth, too.”

  Her lips twisted thoughtfully. “I would hope Sutter Creek proves your fears unfounded, but I know that’s naïve. My receptionist is gay, and he and his boyfriend talk about microaggressions now and then. No major safety issues, to my knowledge.” She glanced at his daughter, who had skipped past them and was waiting by the gate to the off-leash area. “You’re a good dad.”

  He cocked a brow. “How do you know? You’ve spent all of twenty minutes with us.”

  Her contemplative smile flattened, as if some kind of intrinsic awareness was weighing down the corners. “I can tell.”

  A twinge of curiosity ran up his neck. “My twin is like that. Reads people like he does animals.” Which—that wasn’t what she was doing. She wasn’t using animal sense; she was talking from personal experience. He pointed at the dog. “You sure seem to understand this guy.”

  “Not as well as
I’d like. He’s got me a bit puzzled.”

  She opened the gate and waited for Asher and Ruth to go through before following with Jackson.

  He leaned toward his daughter. “Make sure to follow Maggie’s lead, okay?” A dog that big could knock over an unaware kid. Hell, an unaware grown-up, even.

  “I will,” she promised. “What should I do, Dr. Reid?”

  Maggie unclipped the dog from the short lead and removed his vest. “Just play with him. He’s off duty.”

  Ruth half crouched with her hands on her knees. “Jackson, wanna run?” she said in a goofy tone.

  The dog cocked his head and bowed back, his tail sticking up in the air like a question mark.

  “Let’s go!” Ruth took off.

  Jackson followed, springing forward as if he’d been launched from a trebuchet.

  Asher chucked at the gangly frolicking. “Graceful, that one.”

  “A breed trait, for sure,” Maggie joked.

  When he grinned, a hint of interest lit her eyes. Just for a second. She seemed to check herself, and that inner flash of light dimmed.

  “So why dog training?” he asked. Pried, really. But why not? She intrigued him. All sorts of layers wrapped in one petite package.

  “Why library science?” she volleyed back. She wore her question like a protective veil.

  She might not want to dish up answers, but he had nothing to hide. “I get to help people root out solutions. Nothing’s more important than knowledge.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Nothing?”

  “Money, possessions, love—nothing permanent there. But you carry your wits and experience with you, no matter what.”

  “Such a realist. I’d have pegged you as a romantic for some reason. But maybe losing your...” She shut her eyes in regret as she trailed off. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” He didn’t mind her openness. Didn’t mind being open in return, even though it meant digging into the tender parts of his heart. “I can talk about it. Losing Alex was more painful than I’d ever guessed possible,” he said, throat tight, words strained. “But I’d never sacrifice the time we did have together, no matter how much it felt like my soul was ripping in two to watch him fade away. And if I’m lucky enough, I’ll find another equally fantastic partner at some point, when Ruth is ready. And have some more awesome years to make the hard parts worthwhile.”