My Sunshine (33 page)

“Laura?”

She wasn't in front of the fire, feeding puppies. He took some wood from the box and tossed it on the dying flames. Then he went in search of her. He found her in the laundry room, rinsing out towels. She wore one of his shirts instead of a nightgown. The tails reached almost to the bend of her knees.

“Morning,” he said.

She grinned at him over her shoulder and stretched her neck for a kiss, which he was happy to deliver.

“How can you look so perky?” he asked. “We hardly got any sleep.”

“I'm high on love.”

“I'm high on love, too. But even the sexiest man alive needs some sustenance. Let me finish that while you start some breakfast.”

She rinsed her hands, gave him another kiss, and scurried off to the kitchen. Over the rush of the water, Isaiah could have sworn he heard her singing. He shook his head and chuckled.

“Thank God it's Tucker's turn to work Saturday again,” he said when he entered the kitchen a few minutes later. “I feel like I've been run over by a tank.”

She yawned as she turned the bacon. “The puppies are fed. After we eat we could go back to bed.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

Thirty minutes later they snuggled down in Laura's bed, as contented and sleepy as the puppies in the wading pool. Isaiah considered making love to her before he went back to sleep, but between thought and action, his eyes drifted closed. The next instant he was under.

They awakened to the sound of thirteen hungry puppies, yipping and mewling. Laura warmed formula while Isaiah washed bottles. “Are you sure you want kids?” he asked.

She smiled. “Yes, but maybe not thirteen.”

They stayed in that day, content with only each other. In between making love, they watched a couple of movies, played a game of checkers, and fixed snacks to keep up their energy. Isaiah had never hoped to be this happy. Laura could scarcely believe that all her dreams, which she'd believed could never come true for a woman with aphasia, were now becoming reality.

Every once in a while they would look at each other and smile stupidly. “I can't believe you love me,” she'd say. “I think I'm the luckiest man alive,” he'd say. And pretty soon they were in bed again, as eager for each other as they'd been the first time.

Just after midnight, Isaiah's phone rang. It was his answering service. There'd been a car accident just north of Crystal Falls. A German shepherd, riding in the bed of a pickup truck, had been thrown from the vehicle.

“Do you want me to go?” Laura offered.

Isaiah would have loved to have her assist him, but he knew the dog's injuries might be severe, requiring a lengthy surgery. “You need to be here with the puppies. This could take hours. I'll call Belinda.”

Minutes later, as Isaiah pulled away from the house, he saw Laura and Hapless still silhouetted in the open doorway. As if she sensed that he was looking back, Laura blew him a kiss.

 

“Oh, Jesus,” Isaiah whispered when he saw the first X-rays. “Is there a bone in his body that isn't broken?”

Belinda stood at the table. The shepherd was already under the effects of anesthesia, a tube down its trachea, its tongue lolling. “He's in pretty bad shape,” she said sadly. “Do you think we can save him?”

Isaiah rolled up his sleeves and jerked on a lab coat. He wished now that he'd gotten more sleep over the last twenty-four hours. Normally his and Tucker's weekend schedules worked out fairly well, with each of them covering two Saturdays a month so the other one could have two weekends off. The downside was that the guy who didn't work days on Saturday had to cover any emergencies that night.

“I don't know if I can save him,” Isaiah finally replied. “But I mean to give it a try.” As he approached the table, he asked, “What the hell was a Seeing Eye dog doing in the back of someone's pickup truck?”

Belinda shrugged. “I didn't get many details. I
thought maybe you did when you talked to the police.”

“Only that some blind lady flew in from Chicago to see her family. There must not have been room inside the cab for a dog.”

“Idiots,” Belinda said heatedly. “With all the seat-belt laws in Oregon, and all the public-awareness messages on television, you'd think people would understand that even dogs need some kind of safety restraints.”

That was the end of all unnecessary conversation for a while. Isaiah focused intently on his work. If the shepherd died, there was no telling how long it might be before the blind woman could get another guide dog.

By four in the morning, Isaiah was so tired that his vision kept blurring. Belinda had made him coffee that was strong enough to paint walls, but it hadn't helped.

“Talk to me,” he said. “Help me stay awake.”

Belinda obliged, chattering nonstop about her days at college as they worked on their patient. When Isaiah blinked and yawned again, she tipped her head questioningly. “I don't think I've ever seen you so beat,” she observed. “Is everything okay at home?”

Isaiah stifled another huge yawn. “Laura and I didn't get much sleep last night.”

“Uh-oh. Trouble with the puppies?”

He tried to bite back a smile, but failed. “No, other stuff.”

Belinda busied herself straightening the
instruments. After a long moment she said, “You're in love with her, aren't you?”

Isaiah started to deny it, but then decided it was pointless. He did have a life apart from the clinic, and from now on Laura was going to be a big part of it. He wouldn't be able to hide that fact, and he wasn't inclined to try.

“Yes,” he admitted. “I'm very much in love with her.”

Belinda smiled. “I'm so glad for you, Isaiah. If any guy on earth deserves to be happy, it has to be you.”

“Thank you.”

“And I adore Laura,” she added. “But then, don't we all? She's such a sweetie.” She grinned and gave him a look rife with curiosity. “Am I wrong to suspect that wedding bells may be ringing soon?”

“We've talked about it. Nothing set in cement yet.”

Two hours later, Isaiah finally closed the last incision. The shepherd's vitals were still strong. That was a good sign.

“Get on the horn,” he told Belinda. “This fellow has to be kept under close observation for the next several hours, and we're both too wiped out to stay. See if you can get a tech to come in and sit with him.”

 

It was daylight by the time Isaiah got home. When he stepped inside the house, he saw Laura asleep on an easy chair. An afghan that his mother had made was draped over her shoulder. She'd
drawn her legs beneath her, and her head was lolling on her shoulder.

He tiptoed across the room to kiss her awake. “Mornin', sunshine.”

As Isaiah spoke, it occurred to him that she actually was his sunshine. She had brightened his whole world.

“Isaiah.” She rubbed her eyes and sat up. “What time is it?”

“Going on seven.”

“I waited up for you.”

She looked as tired as he felt. “When did you last feed the puppies?”

“About an hour ago.”

“Let's crash in your room. That way we'll hear them when they get hungry.”

En route to the guest room, Laura slipped an arm around his waist. “You must be worn out.”

“Pretty much wasted, yeah.”

“Is the dog all right?”

Isaiah shook his head. “I've done all I can. God has to do the rest.”

 

At nine o'clock, the puppies served as an alarm clock to bring Laura awake and rouse Isaiah momentarily from an exhausted sleep.

“Don't get up,” Laura whispered. “I'll take care of them.”

Isaiah wanted to argue, but he couldn't keep his eyes open long enough to form the words.
Laura.
It seemed that only minutes had passed when she shook him partially awake again and leaned down to beam a smile at him.

“I called in to check on the dog. Lena says he's holding strong.”

“Good, good.” Isaiah struggled to smile, but even curving his lips took too much effort.

 

When Isaiah finally resurfaced, it was almost three in the afternoon. Laura heard him stumbling about in the bedroom. She'd pulled the wading pool out into the living room so as not to disturb him during feeding times. Now she was keeping busy, putting puppies back in the pool.

“Coffee's fresh,” she said when he emerged.

He had fastened his jeans, but his shirt hung open to reveal a swath of bronzed, muscular chest furred with dark hair. He blinked and peered blearily at a puppy as it gained the top edge of the pool wall and tumbled out headfirst onto the floor. “What the hell? They aren't supposed to be doing that yet.”

Laura could only lift her hands. “Tell them that. All of a sudden they've got springs on their feet.”

Isaiah yawned and headed for the kitchen. When he returned a moment later, he held a steaming mug of coffee in one big hand and looked a little more alert. He watched her put a puppy back in the pool, smiled, and shook his head. “Time for a portable kennel. You can't spend your whole day juggling dogs.”

Laura knew he was right. But that wasn't to say she hadn't been enjoying herself. “Hapless thinks it's great. They're almost big enough to play with him.”

Isaiah sat in an easy chair. While he took a slow sip of coffee, Laura nibbled her bottom lip.

“Isaiah?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I keep one?”

“Keep one what?”

Laura rolled her eyes at him. “A puppy.”

He frowned. “Hapless will be a big dog, Laura.”

“I know.” Laura patted Hapless, who lay sleeping beside her. “But he's yours. I want a dog of my own.” Laura scooped up the little male who'd captured her heart. She couldn't look at his wrinkled nose without smiling. “I want to name him Frown Face.”

“Frown Face? What kind of a name is that?” Isaiah studied the puppy. Then he finally smiled. “He is sort of frowny at that.” His eyes darkened. “Laura, honey, the people who owned the mother get pick of the litter. There's every chance they'll pick him. He's a good-looking pup.”

Laura's heart caught. “Can't I just hide him?”

“You don't think they can count? They already know there are thirteen puppies.”

Laura held the puppy close to her heart. She thought for a moment. Then she brightened and said, “One of them just died.”

Isaiah threw back his dark head and barked with laughter.

 

When Monday morning rolled around and the shepherd was still holding strong, Isaiah finally breathed a sigh of relief. He called the police to give
them an update on the dog's condition, happy to report that the guide dog would probably make it.

“That's wonderful news,” a female dispatcher said. “His owner has been inconsolable. He isn't just a dog to her, but her best friend in the entire world.”

“If he's her best friend, why did she let him ride in the back of a pickup on icy roads? It's one thing in the summer for short trips, but it's pure lunacy in the winter when the asphalt is slick.”

“I know,” the woman agreed. “Trust me when I say she'll never allow it again. Next time she says she'll hire a cab. It was just one of those things, I guess, a single-seat pickup, and two people at the airport to pick her up. With three people up front, there was no room for the dog. She didn't think it would hurt to let him ride in the back. They were only going a short distance.”

“Icy roads are hazardous no matter how short the distance.” Isaiah realized that he was complaining to the wrong person. “I'm sorry. It's just hard sometimes. I see more idiots walk through our door than I care to count. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to properly care for a pet. All you need is a little common sense.”

The woman made a commiserating sound. “Tell me about it. You see the dogs that have been thrown from vehicles. We see the kids.”

Isaiah's stomach turned just at the thought. He stayed on the line only long enough to verify the billing information with the police.

 

On Tuesday Isaiah realized that there were only three shopping days left before Christmas. He was writing out a prescription in one of the examining rooms. As he wrote the date, it suddenly dawned on him that it wasn't the twenty-first of just any old month, but the twenty-first of December.

Laura had already pulled her morning shift and left for the day. After returning to the surgery, Isaiah plucked his cell phone from his belt, dialed his home number, and paced until she answered.

“Can you bring the puppies to the clinic at about four?” he asked after she'd said hello.

“Why?”