No Place Like Home (7 page)

“Oh, yes. Sure. I'll talk to you later, Esther. Bye, Hank.”

“Bye, now, we'll have this little rubber ducky done when you get back and maybe you can join Jake and Cassie on the first bounce.”

Dottie glanced toward the back of the “little rubber ducky” as Hank had called it, and waved at Cassie as she guided a portion of the rapidly swelling thing to its position. “I don't think I want to do that.”

“Sure you do. It'll be fun.”

Brady saw the fear that flickered across Dottie's face. “If we're not back in time, maybe we can do it later.”

“Sure,” Hank said.

“That'll be better anyway, Brady. You can catch 'er if she falls,” Esther Mae said.

Brady nodded and opened his truck door. It was time to get out of the fire. There was something cooking. He could tell it by the look in Esther Mae's eyes. Maybe he shouldn't have winked at Dottie in front of the ladies. It had been a spur-of-the-moment act…but he might live to regret it, because he got the distinct impression that something was simmering and he'd single-handedly hurled himself and Dottie right smack into the middle of the frying pan.

Where exactly had his brains gone?

“I
t's not her.” Holding the picture of the Austin runaway in her hands, Dottie raised her distraught gaze. “Oh, how I hate life sometimes. I wish I could fix this.”

Brady took the picture and placed it on his desk. “We can't fix everything, but we can try and make a difference when we can. What you're doing for Cassie is more than two-thirds of the population would do.”

“I hope the percentage is more than that. Surely more than two-thirds would reach out a hand to someone in need.”

Brady shrugged. Truth was truth.

The phone rang and his gaze followed Dottie as she walked to the wall of pictures, giving him some privacy as he picked up the receiver.

“Sheriff's office,” he said, watching Dottie, her hair moving in a silky mass as she leaned in to study the photos on the wall.

He turned away and asked Seth Turner to repeat himself. There had been a wreck on one of the county roads twelve miles outside of town.

The truck driver was trapped inside his cab.

Dottie knew by the sound of Brady's voice that something bad had happened. She swung around just as he was hanging up the phone and shoving back from the desk to stand. The change was instantaneous.

Suddenly the low-key Brady was gone. The man rounding the edge of the desk was a man on a mission. Dottie had learned heros lurked inside the mildest-looking men and women. Of course, Brady already wore a uniform. He was no surprise. It was those who'd saved her who had been the surprise.

And forever opened her eyes.

“There's been an accident. I'm sorry to cut this short.”

“Can I come? I promise to stay out of the way.”

She followed him from the building, dismayed at his hesitation. “C'mon, you might need me.”

He paused slightly in the street, as if assessing her ability. She realized the last thing he needed was to take someone to an accident site who might fall apart. Freak at the sight of blood or something.

“I can do this, Brady.” She met his eyes head-on and nodded hard to reassure his searching gaze. It was obvious that he had grown used to assessing situations and making split-second decisions.

“Load up.”

Yessss!

Within seconds they were flying out of town, lights flashing, siren blaring and Dottie's heart pounding double time. It hadn't occurred to her that she might not be able to handle what she was about to encounter. Until it was too late. What if she weren't… What if she couldn't… Her stomach rolled just thinking about actually stepping up to the plate and delivering on her promise.

What if she was a coward?

Listening to Brady on the radio coordinating the different units needed in the rescue distracted her, brought her out of her sudden worries.

He was wonderful. She watched him, precise, direct, ready for anything he would find upon arrival.

A man's life could depend on him.

Dottie sucked in a calming breath. The scenery sped by as she focused and prayed for the man who was trapped in the overturned truck. Thanked God for the competent man sitting beside her. How she could have thought anything bad about him only an hour earlier was a total bafflement to her. He was great through and through.

The eighteen-wheeler had turned over out in the middle of nowhere. Seth had seen the accident happen from his tractor, but because of the unreliability of cell phones in the area he'd been forced to drive to his house to call it in.

When they arrived on the scene, a cowboy jogged toward them.

“That's Seth,” Brady said, opening his door almost
before the truck slammed to a halt. He'd filled her in on all the details, all business, and now he took charge just as he had when her RV caught fire.

It was more than obvious that Seth was distraught, but his relief clearly won out when Brady stepped from his truck. She understood the feeling. Brady Cannon looked as if he could handle anything.

She followed them to the crash, hanging back, though, not wanting to get in the way as Brady assessed the situation then talked calmly to the poor man inside the crushed cab. He was bleeding badly, but conscious. Brady instructed Seth on how to hold the man's head straight to protect against further damage in case of a neck injury, then he motioned for her to come forward. Pulling absorbent pads from the kit he'd carried to the truck with him, he laid them across the cut on the man's head.

“I need you to hold this. It needs pressure. Can you do this?”

There was blood everywhere. She swallowed hard, nodded. The man was lying at an odd angle, he blinked at her as she scooted into the tight quarters beside Seth.

“Y'all are doing great,” Brady told the two of them and then he reached in and touched the trucker's shoulder. “Paul, this is Seth and Dottie. You talk to them while I get to work on getting your legs free so when the cavalry arrives we can be ready to transport you.”

Paul's frightened gaze settled on Dottie as memories flooded into her mind. Cold darkness, no room to breathe, no way to move as liquid dripped into her face
from broken water pipes mingling with her own blood… Dottie fought the need to run, the need to escape, to cry…her hands trembled against Paul's clammy skin and she was sure he could see her distress.

I am with you always.

Dottie focused. Remembering the promise God gave His people cut through her panic like a sail through stormy winds. She fought her fear of close confines.

You can do all things through Christ who strengthens you.
She focused on the verse pushing sense back into her panicked mind. She would not be beat. This was the nightmare that had plagued her for months, but there was no fleeing from it this time. No escape without leaving Paul behind. And that wasn't an option.

She hadn't been left behind, and despite her fear, she refused to leave her post.

Locking into Paul's stricken eyes, she pressed the pads to his forehead and forced a smile. She would give him the same kind encouragement and help that her rescuers had given her.

Brady's hand on her shoulder centered her even further on the task at hand. She looked up to see him looking intently at her. Only a brief moment had passed since she'd scooted into the confines of the cab, but it had all moved in such slow motion that it felt like hours.

“You can do this. Keep him talking. I'll be back.”

She watched him stride away then focused on Paul and nothing else.

 

Dottie watched Brady from her seat in the truck's cab.

She was numb, her muscles ached from crouching in the same position for over an hour, but it was little sacrifice for the reward. The EMT had said things looked good for Paul thanks to their actions. Dottie knew it was because of Brady that everything had gone the way it had. It turned out that she and Seth had had the easy jobs. It was Brady who'd saved the day.

While the ambulance drove off, Dottie watched Brady taking care of details, having the truck towed off, organizing the cleanup of the tons of grain spilled across the road.

She was impressed by Brady's professional manner and wondered again if Mule Hollow knew how lucky they were to have a man like him in their community.

She owed her life to men like Brady. Men who'd put their lives on the line to rescue others.

Fond thoughts replayed across her memory of the men who'd worked tirelessly for days trying to dig her from beneath the mass of crumbled brick, wood and mud.

Tears came to her eyes. Not one man who'd done that for her had been on a payroll. Volunteers one and all who'd worked without sleep and no pay for the hours they'd put in to save her.

Looking down, she realized her hands were shaking. She closed her eyes and hugged herself, loathing the weakness she felt as her entire body started to tremble.

“He was a lucky man,” Brady said as he climbed into the cab beside her.

Dottie nodded. Praying he wouldn't notice that she was struggling.

“Dottie—”

He was out of the truck and yanking her door open within seconds. Pulling her out into the fresh air and into the circle of his strong arms.

“C'mon, you're okay,” he whispered into her hair.

He held her hard, almost as if he was willing his strength to flow into her. She fought to find a foothold on that strength. But memories, like a landslide, took her back to the pit, to the grave that plagued her, and she wept.

And Brady held her.

 

What had he been thinking? The woman had lived through a nightmare and he'd brought her to a life-and-death situation and used her. She'd saved the day but at what cost?

He knew people who lived through horrifying experiences could carry that baggage with them for the rest of their lives. He shouldn't have let her come. He'd been careless.

“You were wonderful,” she mumbled against his shirt after a few minutes. The dampness of her tears soaked to his heart.

He ran a hand down her silky hair and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the perfect way she seemed to fit in his arms. “No, you were. I know it was hard on you, but you were so strong for Paul. He needed all that encouragement you gave him. I hope someone did that for you.” A sudden
picture of Dottie covered in mud, buried in a hole, trapped and bleeding, slammed into him and he held her tighter.

She nodded against his shoulder. “They did. Two men tunneled to me. Even when they thought the building was going to cave in the rest of the way, they didn't abandon me. They literally were going to die with me if they had to. They said it had taken them too long to tunnel to me just to back out and leave me…” Her soft laugh was cut off by a hiccup. “They stayed and while they dug me out, they talked to me and kept the water out of my face…”

Her voice trailed off.

“And that's what you did for Paul today.”

She relaxed against him. He could feel the strength flowing back into her. She was going to hate that she'd shown this weakness. She'd already shown him that she hated being fussed over.

“I was so afraid I was going to fail him.”

Brady laughed and pushed her away from him so that he could look into her face. “Fail him? You were amazing. You knew exactly what to say to him. It was obvious you knew how he felt. I'm so sorry you had to go through such a terrifying ordeal, Dottie.”

She wiped her eyes and stepped away from him. He hated to let her go. “Thank you. I didn't mean to fall apart. It's not like I was the only person to go through what I did. At least I lived…many didn't.”

He lifted her chin with his finger. “I think you are working hard to give back. I admire what you're trying to do in California.”

Looking at her bloodshot eyes, her puffy blotchy cheeks and her red nose, Brady couldn't tear his eyes away.

She was a mess! She was beautiful.

And he wanted to kiss her and never let her go.

D
ottie could not believe Brady's kitchen. It was humongous.

Huu-Mon-Gous!

There were nearly four complete walls of cabinets, floor to ceiling, and counter space that went on and on and on. There was a six-burner gas stove just begging to be used and a double oven. She definitely could work here. After the rescue call, he'd insisted that she use his kitchen to get ready for the fair, pointing out that she needed more space if she was going to prepare adequately.

Reluctantly, she'd agreed. Now she was happy she'd accepted his offer. It wasn't a professional kitchen, but it was close.

“Hey, Dottie, look at this place!” Cassie exclaimed as she dropped a sack of decorations on the kitchen island then spun around in amazement. Dottie had already done the same thing.

“You live here all alone?” she asked Brady as he entered carrying an armload of bags.

“All alone.”

“Whoa,” Cassie gasped.

Dottie didn't miss the expression that passed over Brady's face. “Go check it out if you want to. My mom had it built to be enjoyed.”

Cassie disappeared instantly through the doorway.

“Do you have a lot of brothers and sisters?” Dottie asked.

“Just me.” He set the sacks on the counter beside her. “I was supposed to have a bunch of siblings, but my parents were never able to conceive. My mom was forty-five and my dad was fifty when they found out they were going to have me.”

“Wow.”

He chuckled. “I believe that's exactly the word they used when the doctor gave them the news. They were thrilled to be parents, though they had to readjust their life. They said they felt a kinship to Abraham and Sarah in the Bible.”

“What happened to them?”

That expression returned. It was a mixture of sadness and something else she couldn't place.

“They passed away about five years ago.”

“I'm sorry.”

He tucked his fingers into the pockets of his jeans and met her gaze. “Yeah, so am I.”

She touched his arm briefly with a comfort she wished he could embrace.

“Though they were up in years, they were very active.” He shook his head. “I never saw it coming. I thought they'd be here when I finally got ready to come home, but they were killed in a car crash. I still can't really believe it.”

“What did you do?” Dottie gasped.

He lifted a shoulder. “After the funeral I went back to the city, but I wasn't seeing things like I had before. I was haunted by what had happened and by the things my dad had tried to show me.” He paused, and shook his head. “It's odd, in the end it was Dad's death that sent his message home to me. Small towns need lawmen. They need well-trained response teams, and they needed to feel safe during emergencies. That can happen with the right training.” He paused. “My dad had tried countless times to make me see that I was needed in Mule Hollow more than I was needed on the city streets. But I hadn't been able to see it. Didn't want to. Anyway, that's enough of that, long story short…I came home a little too late. But I came.”

Dottie watched the smile that tugged at his lips and felt as if she'd known Brady Cannon all her life. He was a man of integrity and honor. And something was missing from his story. She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his tone.

It was also none of her business. He was helping her get ready for the fair, and to find out what he could about
Cassie. She could admire the man. But she didn't need to dive headfirst into his personal life.

“We came here to make candy, didn't we?” he asked, efficiently changing the conversation for her.

“Yes, we did. Have you ever made candy before?”

He removed his hat, smiling. The smile showed off all his beautiful teeth and crinkled up the edges of his eyes. “Nope, but I have eaten it before. How's about we make some more of those turtle cluster do-dads.”

She laughed. “We will, but now that we have all this space I want to make peanut brittle. The do-dads will have to wait.” They had two days left to cook and she planned to make the most of this kitchen.

“That'll do the job, too. I like brittle. I even have the marble tabletop my mom used to use to cool hers on.”

“Get outta here! Do you really? That would be fantastic. I can cool it on cookie sheets, but it's not anywhere close to perfect like with marble.”

“Follow me.”

Dottie was glad to follow him. They went into the huge house with its wide halls and hardwood floors. It wasn't a showplace, but it was a welcoming older home that she could tell had been planned to be lived in.

In the front room, off the main hallway, was a spacious room decorated with antique furniture. Against the wall was a lovely marble table about one and a half feet wide and two feet long. Brady took the lamp off the tabletop, then easily lifted the heavy marble top from its resting place.

“My mom used to have Dad carry this to the kitchen table and there she'd roll out the brittle and let it harden. It's one of my fondest memories.”

“Isn't that funny? Those memories of my grandmother and mother making candy are some of my warmest ones, too.”

“Hey, Dottie,” Cassie said, bursting into the room, pulling Jake behind her. “Look who I found wandering around outside.”

“Hi, Dottie, Brady. I was passing by and Cassie had said y'all were going to be out here. Anyway, I was on my way out to the ranch, you know, to check on some calves, and wondered if—well, I was wondering if Cassie could go along.”

“Do you mind?” Cassie asked, her eyes bright with excitement.

Dottie's first inclination was to say yes she minded. But she couldn't. “No, go ahead, you got a bundle of stuff packaged earlier and I do appreciate that you did all that on your own.” Dottie watched the younger woman blush and thought it was endearing.

“I enjoyed it. I used to work at this—” She stopped herself just as she always did with any information that linked to her life prior to Dottie picking her up off the roadside. “Anyway, I liked doing the packaging. And I can do some more later.”

“Well, thanks, have fun.” Dottie didn't know what else to tell Cassie. She wasn't exactly her keeper, though she did hope she had some influence.

“You're going to miss out on making peanut brittle,” Brady offered in a voice of mock authority.

Dottie laughed. The man seemed to really be looking forward to making brittle.
You are, too. With him.

The kids backed out the door. They didn't look at all worried about missing out on the candy-making experience.

“Why should I be surprised that they're passing up on this?” Brady asked.

“You didn't think they would actually accept your offer?” Was he pulling her leg again? He had a poker face when he wanted to. His dark eyes hid secrets in their depths.

“Actually, I think we can handle it all by ourselves.”

He was flirting with her. There was no mistaking the spark in his eyes with that statement. Dottie's heart leaped, remembering how it felt to be held in his arms. Spinning toward the counter, she started slinging open cabinet doors, looking, searching for, no not a bowl, not a measuring cup… Bingo, there was the ever-handy rolling pin! Just exactly what she needed to pound some sense into her ailing brain.

Sister, you know there is nothing whatsoever you would rather be doing than making candy with Brady Cannon.

She curled her fingers around the heavy piece of wood, and only then did some sense of sanity settle over her.

Anyone in their right brain would want to bake candy with Sheriff Brady Cannon. The man was a walking,
talking billboard for chivalry. Why, she would be crazier by far if she didn't want to be spending time with him!

Okay, calm down. She took a deep breath and laid her weapon down. Relieved she hadn't taken a swing at herself, she turned back toward Mule Hollow's resident knight in shining armor. She was just going to have to deal in a mature manner with this immature infatuation.

That's what it was.

Banging herself in the head with cooking utensils certainly wasn't the answer.

Although, on second thought, it
could
put her out of her misery.

 

Dottie had just finished dressing on her third morning in Mule Hollow when the noise started. The sound was awful and had her running down the tiny hall in surprise just in time to see Cassie diving off her bunk, her eyes huge and questioning. They met in front of the door, huddled together in bewilderment. Dottie was certain the look on her face had to match the bafflement she saw on Cassie's.

When the noise erupted again they jumped and moved closer together. “What is that?” she whispered, not at all certain why she was whispering.

Cassie shook her head, her head of really bumpy bed hair.

“It sounds like a donkey!” Dottie lifted the curtain so they could peek out the window.

“It's Samantha!” Cassie squealed, jumping up and down laughing. “I can't believe it. Look at her.”

“That's an elephant!” Dottie whispered, looking at the putty-colored rolls rippling down the little donkey's body. She was prancing around the trailer when suddenly she plopped onto her well-padded rump, reared her head heavenward, rolled back her lips and let out the most awful sound Dottie had ever heard. Or at least until a few moments earlier.

The awkward
e-haw
went on and on and on.

“Let's go!” Cassie had swung the door open and jumped outside before Dottie could say no.

Not just no.

But no, no,
no!

She'd never been closer than maybe a hundred feet to a donkey and she hadn't been that close to many. She was usually passing them by in her car.

And that was the way she wanted it to stay. But as Cassie jogged across the grassy fifteen feet in her baggy shirt and shorts, Dottie followed at a slow amble. Afraid, but not feeling exactly right about letting Cassie go it alone to investigate the lumpy creature. Dottie was halfway to the bellowing burro when she saw the dog.

It was a bedraggled fellow with long ears and a shaggy tail, and it was rolling in the dirt with its feet in the air and a silly grin on its droopy lips. It twisted its head in the dirt so that it could get a good look up at her and then it flopped over and jumped up, dirt falling from its coat like rain off a duck. Before she could do anything, the dirty dog lunged at her, hit her in the knees like a linebacker going for a tackle and sent her rolling to the ground.

Now, Dottie had many thoughts as she was being taken down by the hairy beast and none of them were nice. He was coming at her with his tongue dripping drool, when some Good Samaritan grabbed him and tugged him away.

“Lucky, no! We have got to work on your manners,” Lilly scolded, her mop of dark hair bouncing as she tugged at the beast. “I'm so sorry, Dottie. Here, let me help you up.”

Dottie laughed—
what else could she do?
And it was funny. Really, chickens the day before and a donkey and wild dog today. Tomorrow maybe it
would
be an elephant.

“Mule Hollow is never boring,” she chuckled, taking Lilly's hand. If her hips weren't still stiff she'd have been able to get up unassisted. But her hips were a constant reminder of how far she had to go. Knowing Lilly was watching and wondering, it was aggravating to move like she was forced to. Still, thankful to be moving at all, she placed her hands on her knees before straightening.

“Are you okay?” Lilly asked.

“I'm fine. I just have an old injury. Nothing to worry about. What are y'all doing down there?” She nodded toward the end of the field and the activity going on.

Lilly glanced away from her then. “Well, we're setting up the petting zoo. Samantha decided she wanted to go exploring. The ol' girl is a roamer by nature. And Lucky is a little overzealous at times. I'm really sorry. I think sometimes he thinks he's a bowling ball and we're the pins!”

“It's fine. Really. Honestly.”

“Your back. Does it hurt?”

“Lilly. My back is good. It's the getting up and the getting down that I sometimes have a problem with. Samantha isn't going to bite Cassie or anything, is she?”

“No way!” Lilly gasped, reaching into her pocket. “That's why she's the main attraction at the petting zoo. Kids are going to love getting a ride on her back. All the money is going toward a new water truck for the fire department.”

“That's a great cause.”

“Yes, the truck we have is pretty ancient and we decided at the last town meeting that we would start doing something at each of these town-sponsored events to raise funds for a new truck. Of course, all the ranchers would kick in and buy it out of their own pockets, but we thought it wouldn't hurt to try and raise at least some of the money.” Lilly scrunched her nose up and smiled. “Cort, my sweet sugar pie, thought of the petting zoo. Our son, Joshua, is a baby, but Cort loves children and thought it would be fun to give them a special place. And we're just asking for donations. The kids can ride for free if they can't afford a donation. Cort couldn't stand to let a child not enjoy the animals.”

Dottie smiled, glancing toward Lilly's husband, who along with another cowboy, were manhandling the special gates that connected to make portable pens for the animals. “He seems like a great guy.”

“That's my man. Sometimes I have to pinch my
self…. I guess I better round up Samantha and go help him before he starts to realize I'm letting him and Bob do all the work.”

She pulled a piece of yellow candy from her pocket and called to Samantha. Cassie frowned at them when Samantha sniffed the air then immediately abandoned her, trotting toward Lilly. She was holding her hand out to the funny little burro and Dottie got tickled when Samantha batted her big brown eyes at Lilly, puckered her juicy lips and daintily nibbled the tiny square of what looked like yellow taffy from her flattened palm.