Rescue Me (11 page)

“I really do need to go get lunch for Nathan and my father-in-law.”

Her stomach rolled at the thought of food, but she wanted to treat her father-in-law to a family meal before he went back to the assisted living facility.

“How much longer is your father-in-law staying?”

“We're taking him back this afternoon.” Joshua McDaniel had grown exponentially more disoriented by the Alzheimer's since his son died. His good days were so very few and far between now. There hadn't been a coherent moment since he'd joined them at the table to play Risk while wearing the Bolivian general hat. “I wish he could stay longer, but the doctors think this is the best way. He's more at home in the facility now than here, and that makes me so very sad.”

“Because you've lost another link to your dead husband?”

“In part.” She couldn't deny that hurt. “But mostly just grieving for the General and his loss of independence. He's my family, too.”

Wyatt
hmm
ed on the other end. “Is that why you're hesitating to answer my proposal? Because you're worried about losing independence?”

“Of course not.” Or was she? God, she didn't know, and her mind was such a jumble. “I rushed into my marriage with Allen. I want to take my time and enjoy the romance.”

“Romance doesn't have to end with marriage.”

“That isn't what I meant.” Her fist twisted in the quilted bedspread.

“You just mean that today your answer is still no. Okay, then. Know, though, that I'm not giving up on you,” he said before ending the call.

Nausea hit her again and sent her sprinting back to the bathroom. Without question, her time was running out.

*   *   *

FOR A LONG
time I wasn't sure why the dogs on television seemed to enjoy car rides so much.

My second trip wasn't much better than my first. I was stuck in a van in a crate, except this time they didn't even drug me. Having AJ at the wheel with Mary Hannah in the front seat helped reassure me some. Except everyone was tense. And no wonder.

That badass Labrador back at the shelter bit Mary Hannah. Twice. I wanted to protect her, but I was too scared. Too beta dog when I needed to be something I never, never could be—an alpha dog.

But AJ sure was. He'd alpha-dog stepped in and protected Mary Hannah the way she deserved. He'd kept her safe, and that meant a lot more in this world than some people realized. I'd known fear. I sensed Mary Hannah had, too. She needed a protector.

Thing was, though, AJ needed Mary Hannah, too. That wounded look in his eyes cut right through me. He could use some peanut butter pumpkin cookies—metaphorically speaking. To be plain, he needed someone who cared about him.

I'm not sure why the two of them pretended not to like each other, because the attraction was there. The need was there. And honestly, good people were tough to come by in this world.

The van hit a bump, jostling me in the crate until my head hit the top and the other dogs barked like crazy. Yep, this car-ride stuff was overrated.

But having someone in your life to depend on? That was off-the-charts important.

The contestants on
The Bachelor
might not understand how important it was to find the right person to love, but the rest of the world did. That's why we watch and hope the rose goes to the right person. I couldn't let Mary Hannah and AJ mess this up. While I might not have been much of a protector, I was smart. I was also a nurturer after whelping all those litters. And this was the opportunity of a lifetime to use those skills on these two, who were deeply in need of some healing.

Whatever it took, I would make sure Mary Hannah and AJ quit fighting what they felt and accept the love there waiting for them.

*   *   *

AJ PARKED THE
unwieldy van in an emergency room customer spot, poodles barking at deafening levels since they'd left the shelter. The boxer—Holly—just stared from her crate with those wide whale eyes, shivering in spite of the blasting heater.

He had to find the volunteer who was supposed to take the dogs and get Mary Hannah into the ER. He made fast tracks to her side of the vehicle, bracing a hand on the hood to keep from slipping on the ice. He'd worked undercover in tense situations, dodged bullets and knives. Even taken a knife to the side to divert a perp from stabbing a female hostage. He should have nerves of steel.

But seeing that Labrador go after Mary Hannah had scared the shit out of him. His brain roared with memories of Sheila being held at gunpoint, little Aubrey hiding under the bed in fear with her sippy cup. Emotions slowed reaction time. He couldn't forget that for an instant.

Thank God instincts and training had taken over in time for him to steer Mary Hannah out of harm's way at the shelter before worse could have happened.

Frustration chewed at his gut over the way she kept focusing on the dogs when she needed treatment. She'd demanded the boxer, poodles and schnauzers stay loaded in the van so they wouldn't have to spend even one more day at the shelter. The whole way to the hospital, she'd been on her cell phone making arrangements for them to be transported to the Second Chance Ranch. A volunteer named Zoe would meet them, and they would just swap vehicles so the animals didn't even have to be unloaded.

He didn't doubt for an instant that if Mary Hannah hadn't found anyone to help, she would have insisted he just drop her outside the ER and take the dogs to Lacey himself. She would have hobbled into the hospital all alone.

Opening the passenger door with one hand, he extended the other to steady her. Regardless of how often she insisted she was fine, she still trembled, and her face was ghostly white.

“Take it slow and steady,” he said as she stepped on the running board, then out onto the ice. He hooked his arm closer around her shoulders, anchoring the blanket they'd given her at the shelter.

She was wearing surgical scrubs now since she'd gotten blood on her shirt and coat. She looked up at him with a wince-grin. “This blanket outerwear is starting to be my wardrobe staple. Shelter Winter Clothing Line. That's Zoe there in the blue SUV.”

Zoe jumped out, a long parka over workout clothes.

“I've got the dogs now. Go, go! Take care of yourself. We'll sweat out the stress with some hot yoga later.” She tossed her keys to AJ just as he tossed the other set to her. “I'll get them all to the vet, then Jim is meeting me at the ranch to help bathe and groom them. We're good. Shoo.”

Mary Hannah waved. “Thanks, Zoe. You're the best.” She glanced at AJ, her jaw trembling. “She's a tiny tank with a huge heart for animal rescue.”

AJ realized she was rambling out of nerves. She wasn't as calm as she claimed to be. He secured her against him, unable to miss what a perfect fit she was, her curves soft and too damn vulnerable. His pulse hammered in his ears. The electric doors swished open, a wall of warmth rolling out combating the cold at their back.

Through some miracle, there wasn't a wait, helped by the fact the shelter had called ahead. They were ushered back, Mary Hannah's vitals taken before she was settled into an exam room. An ER doc swept aside the curtain, chart in her hand, her lab coat stitched with the name Dr. Trujillo. She had sharp eyes and a no-nonsense efficiency that reassured him. He noticed her one piece of jewelry, a West Point ring. She must be a retired military physician.

After introductions and a brief recounting of the incident, the doctor examined the puncture sites.

Stretched out on the exam table, Mary Hannah hitched up on her elbows, watching. “How exactly does this work? Do I get injections in the stomach or what?”

“That's not how we treat for possible rabies exposure anymore,” Dr. Trujillo explained, without taking her eyes off the puffy red bite wounds that still oozed droplets of blood.

“Oh, thank God.” Mary Hannah sighed heavily with her first obvious admission of fear. “I've witnessed bite incidents before, but the animal was always vaccinated. I never gave this much thought until today.”

AJ took in her words, gaining an insight to her volunteer work he hadn't expected. She was more than paisley and pink fluff. She took risks as a volunteer that most wouldn't take for pay.

“It does involve a series of injections.” Dr. Trujillo sat on the edge of the exam table, the paper cover crackling. “For today, we inject serum into the wound site.”

“You mean
around
the bites, not
into
the bites, right?” Mary Hannah's voice squeaked.

Dr. Trujillo shook her head slowly. “I'm sorry, but yes, into the bites.”

AJ leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “That sounds painful.”

“I won't lie to either of you. It is, even with numbing. But the sooner we get this done, the sooner you'll be protected.”

Mary Hannah drew in even breaths at a near-meditative rate. “Sorry to have so many questions. I guess I should have considered the possibility of a bite before now, given how many animals I handle with unknown histories. What happens after today?”

“Questions are fine,” Dr. Trujillo answered as a nurse lined up gauze and injections on a rolling tray. “You'll have a follow-up series of injections into your arm over the next couple of weeks. We'll give you the schedule before you're discharged.”

“And even if the dog is rabid, I'll be okay?”

“Yes.” The doctor nodded, relaxing into a reassuring smile for the first time. “And if it puts your mind at ease, I've done this procedure before, overseas when soldiers were bitten by wild dogs. The risk there was much higher that the dog was infected, but any risk isn't worth taking since rabies is fatal.”

The last word sucker-punched AJ in the gut. Why the hell was he so off-balance over this? He needed to get his head together and figure out why Mary Hannah Gallo had such a way of kicking the props out from under him. Right now he wanted to haul her to him and comfort her. To reassure himself she would be all right.

Dr. Trujillo looked from one to the other of them. “The good news is that rabies is slow moving, and you were bitten on the leg, so we'll kill the virus before it can get to your brain.”

Her brain?

Mary Hannah gripped the sides of the exam table. “Let's just do this.”

“Okay, then.” The doctor stood, jotting notes on the chart before setting it aside. “The nurse will give you a couple of Percocets to help you relax before we begin the injections.”

To hell with being objective or detached. AJ reached for Mary Hannah's hand.

“No, Doctor!” Mary Hannah swung her legs off the table, extending her arm as if to physically bar the physician from leaving. “Wait. I don't want any drugs.”

Dr. Trujillo turned on her heels, hands in her lab coat. “You don't have to John Wayne this, Ms. Gallo. Nobody will think less of you if you take all the pain meds we can safely dish out.”

AJ squeezed her hand. “It's all right. I'll be here with you.” As he felt her soft hand go chillier in his, he realized he wanted to be here for her. That for some unknown, inescapable reason, he was drawn to this woman on more than a physical level. “You don't have to tough this out or face it by yourself.”

Her brown eyes went wild with pure panic for the first time since the bite occurred. “I can't take the pain meds.”

He smoothed a hand along her back, trying to soothe her nerves. “It'll make this easier—”

“No! You don't understand.” She jerked away from his touch. “I can't take the pills because I'm a recovering drug addict.”

Out of the shelter and into the unknown. If I'd realized how far the world went past the chain at my old cabin, would I have still left? Put it this way . . . it was kind of like buying a vowel when you had the chance. You just had to do it.

—HOLLY, LEARNING THE MEANING OF
I

M
ARY HANNAH SETTLED
into the passenger side of Zoe's SUV, with AJ beside her in the driver's seat. He cranked the engine without a word, blasting the heater. In fact, he hadn't spoken to her since she'd told the doctor about her former addiction.

Why hadn't she thought to ask AJ to leave the room? She should have, but her brain had gone on scramble when he took her hand and touched her back. Now she wondered if on some level she'd wanted the information out there between them because of that attraction that hadn't gone away even after five months.

So she'd let him know her secret, the truth of her past that would be guaranteed to make him run in the other direction. And he had. He'd dropped her hand, mumbled something about giving her and the doctor privacy to talk and left.

He'd just left. Taking all that beautiful comfort with him. But then she didn't deserve to take anything from him.

She'd clenched her jaw and breathed through the painful injections into the bite wound. As the door opened and closed to the exam room, she'd seen AJ sitting in a chair staring off into space. He hadn't left the building physically. But emotionally? He had placed miles between them. Miles that probably stretched all the way back to Atlanta. Back to his old life. Back to the reasons why they would never work as a couple. That realization stung worse than the injection.

So she'd signed the release forms and gone along as AJ led her to Zoe's SUV. He didn't speak other than the barest words of “careful” and “watch your step up” before he closed the door. It was such a quiet drive compared to their rushed trip to the ER with the van full of dogs. Still, the signs of an animal rescuer were all around them, from the waterproof drape over the backseat to an extra leash stashed in the cup holder.

Mary Hannah slumped back in her seat, her leg throbbing from the injections jabbed into an already painful wound. The silence between them hurt even more.

Since he clearly wasn't going to speak, she needed to talk first. “I was addicted to prescription drugs.”

Eyes forward, he steered the borrowed SUV through the lunchtime traffic. “I didn't ask for the details. It's none of my business.”

“You didn't have to ask. I should have told you.”

“Why?” He turned onto a side street, a silver guardian angel on the rearview mirror swaying.

Apparently he was going to make her be the one to spell it all out, to take the risk. Fair enough. “Because we spent a night together before I knew you were a cop. Because you kissed me at Christmas. We've started to act like there might be something between us and you're a police officer, a detective who used to work on some kind of antidrug task force and—”

“You kissed me back on Christmas.”

And it had been good. Very good. The memory of that crackled between them.

“You're right, AJ, this attraction isn't one-sided. I've tried to stay away from you ever since that first night as Francesca. And I should have kept on trying, given my history.”

Finally, he glanced her way, blue eyes glinting with anger—and a hint of something else that looked like pain. “Why didn't you?”

Wasn't that the million-dollar question?

She shook her head and looked away, watching the world outside act normal. A snowplow drove past, slapping sludge to the side. Trash cans lined the street overflowing with wrapping paper and packing boxes. Children played in the yards, having snowball fights, building snowmen and dragging sleds. She'd only ever wanted a normal life, calm and peace.

AJ Parker was anything other than peaceful.

She rubbed her leg, the surgical scrubs a thin barrier over a bandage. “Things just got out of control between us. But what happened today in the ER has been a wake-up call.” A reminder of her past, a past she could never afford to forget for an instant. “Like I said before, you're a cop, a narcotics detective, no less. And I'm a recovering drug addict. It's like pairing up a firefighter and an arsonist.”

His jaw flexed with tension. “If you meant that as a joke, it's not funny.”

“I know. Addiction isn't in the least amusing.” She traced the outline of the bandage with one finger, the silence stretching again, and she was damned if she could think of what to say or do now. Her body ached. She wanted to crawl under her covers and hide for the day . . . or a decade.

The SUV jostled along a rut in the road and over chunks of ice. She braced her hand on the dash just as his arm shot across to protect her. Their eyes met and held for an instant, his palm warm against her rib cage, just below her breasts. Her skin tingled, her whole body on overload from adrenaline, good and bad tangled together, leaving her vulnerable.

His throat moved in a long swallow before he jerked his arm back and faced the road again, steering around a corner. “Were you high that night we met at the bar?”

“No,” she gasped. “Absolutely not. I've been in recovery for four years and haven't slipped.”

“Four years?” His brow furrowed. “How did it happen?”

She glanced his way, almost surprised he'd asked. But he'd at least opened the door for her to explain. She understood on an intellectual level but still wondered how she'd allowed herself to be so . . . consumed. She also knew history could repeat itself if she let her guard down.

Plucking at the surgical scrubs, she settled for the simple answer. “I was in college, and I couldn't handle the pressure, so I medicated. To stay awake, then to go to sleep. The problem steamrolled as I started worrying about applying to grad schools. Next thing I knew, I was hooked.”

The memories clogged her throat for a moment before she could continue. “My ex-husband paid for a top-notch rehab center, used by Nashville stars and their families. That's actually how I first met Billy Brock. His teenage daughter was in the program the same time I was.”

“The news was full of reports about her heroin addiction.” The censure in his voice was unmistakable.

“And I knew my addiction was just as real and as bad as hers. I refuse to make excuses or let that be some kind of cop-out because I used prescription drugs.”

“Good for you.” He nodded curtly.

Defensiveness snapped and popped inside her like a log that had fallen into a banked fire. “Are you being sarcastic?”

“Absolutely not.” He looked at her, the sun glinting through the windshield and reflecting in his blue eyes. “That level of awareness is . . . rare.”

While her heart warmed at the hint of understanding and an inkling of acceptance, she couldn't hide from the truth, especially on a day like today when that reality smacked her in the face. This pull she felt to AJ couldn't go anywhere. She had her life in order now and would cope in her usual manner. She would lose herself in her work.

“Thanks, AJ, and I mean that.” She shrugged, the blanket sliding off her shoulders. “But I'm still the proverbial arsonist to your firefighter.”

*   *   *

AJ PARKED THE
SUV in the gravel lot beside the Second Chance Ranch's play area. In spite of the twenty-degree weather, volunteers were out in force. A woman wearing puffy earmuffs and mittens tossed a tennis ball for three leggy Labs racing circles in the packed snow. An older gentleman wearing an Elmer Fudd hat walked a former racing greyhound that had been rescued after breaking a leg. Lacey's son, Nathan, and his girlfriend each carried a fuzzy husky puppy as they walked toward the farmhouse. The teens laughed and chased each other, so very young and full of puppy love. In more ways than one.

Apparently no one in the rescue community was taking the holidays off.

And damn, he was focusing on the dogs—on anything—to keep from thinking about Mary Hannah's revelation. She was a former addict. That admission still rocked him to the core. He never would have guessed that of her, not in a million years. But addiction wasn't predictable. He shouldn't be surprised. Disappointed. Hell, even feeling betrayed.

Still, he was.

He opened Mary Hannah's door. “Are you sure you won't just go up to your apartment?”

“Once I have Holly settled with you, we'll be done.”

He didn't believe her for an instant. She would work till she dropped, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He didn't have any say in her life. “Lead the way.”

She pushed open the barn door, warm air drifting out. Heating the place must be tough with all those doggie doors in the kennel runs letting the animals go through to the outside, but somehow they managed to keep the place toasty.

The inside of the barn hummed with controlled activity, people wearing volunteer aprons moving in some kind of Zen-like choreography. Elevator music played with such soothing tones he resisted the urge to yawn. The stalls were all occupied now because of the new dogs picked up today.

A pair of volunteers worked in the corner bathing area, an extra heater on full blast. A poodle was curled up asleep with a dryer pointed on her, and another was having the earlier shave job from the shelter prettied up, half drugged to reduce the stress. Their puppies were nearby, each litter clean and piled on top of one another in a bed under a warming lamp.

Holly lay in the last stall, her head on her paws as she stared at the puppies, her food untouched beside her. AJ took in all the animal gear and paraphernalia around him, realizing for the first time what he'd taken on in caring for this dog.

He swept off his stocking hat and stuffed it in his coat pocket. “This has moved so fast, I don't have anything at my place for Holly. Maybe she should stay here until, I, uh—”

“Don't worry,” Mary Hannah said briskly, unlocking the supply closet.

“Can I give you a hand?”

She waved him away. “I've got this. We'll loan you a leash, collar, harness, dog bed and a bag of food to get you started. We also can make tags here for her collar. She has antibiotics to take for her mastitis—”

“Mastitis?” He backed up a step. “Isn't that, uh—” He gestured around his chest.

She laughed, the sound light and floating up toward the high ceiling. Even Holly shifted at the sweet sound. “The shelter vet said since her puppies were pulled so early and abruptly, she developed an infection. After she's been on the antibiotics for a week, if everything clears, she'll be spayed. Be careful that she doesn't get loose. The last thing we need is for her to get pregnant again.”

“So, um”—he knelt down in front of the kennel gate, staring through the wiring at Holly—“she and I are supposed to do what?”

“Over the next month and a half, you'll work with her, make her more adoptable by easing her anxiety, help her connect with people and teach her a few commands—and yes, I'll explain in detail, with flyers that review everything we discuss.” Her mouth twitched. “You won't be surprised to hear how well organized my handouts are. You'll have all the information, resources and support you need to prepare Holly for a family of her own.”

He smiled back, envisioning all those flyers in some binder or accordion folder, color coded and alphabetized. His smile faded as he thought about how her driving need for organization had pushed her to such extremes in college, even into drug abuse. He'd seen it happen more times than he could count.

Cricking his neck to the side, he looked back at Holly. “I can do that. I'm not sure how it's supposed to make me appear more levelheaded to my boss, but whatever. I'll hit Google, too.”

“Never underestimate the power of Googling for articles and advice. But just to be sure, one of our most seasoned volunteers—Jim—will walk Holly to your cabin. He'll review some basics and make sure Holly settles in okay. We don't want any surprises.”

He poked his fingers through the gate, wriggling them through to pet her nose. She inched away.

Mary Hannah said, “As a general rule, you shouldn't stick your fingers through the gate like that, for your safety and the animal's.”

He drew his hand back. “Are we confident she's not going to bite me? You said the Lab bit because he was terrified.”

“That was a different kind of fear and agitation. We wouldn't have placed her with you if we didn't think she was safe. But as with any animal, I would urge common sense. Don't drag her. Don't hit her. If she has an accident in the house, don't shove her nose in it—” She paused, crossing her arms over her chest, chewing her bottom lip. “You know, maybe you're right. Maybe we should wait a day or so after all and ease you into this.”

His back went stiff. “You're sending that volunteer along to babysit me. I do know basics of animal care and human kindness. I'm not just going to rely on Google.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I lived with a woman once who got a puppy. We went to obedience classes for six weeks.”

“You never mentioned that.”

“The woman or the puppy?”

“The obedience training,” she snapped smartly.

Why hadn't he? Hell, he didn't know why he did half the things he did lately. Mostly, he tried to keep to himself. Was that why he'd missed the signs that she was a recovering addict?

Complex questions, to say the least. He settled for an easy answer. “If I'd mentioned it, Wyatt would have pressured me to foster sooner to help him impress Lacey.”

“Fair enough.” Mary Hannah knelt beside him, wincing and shifting her weight off the bitten leg. “It's going to be a challenge getting her to come out of her shell.”

“How will she win a competition if she won't even let me touch her?”