One Summer (5 page)

The C-section taken care of, Charity stayed downstairs to monitor Winnie and her newborns after Amie and Janet left for the day.

She thought about Winnie. And Sofia. And poor sweet Rosemary, whose time on earth was growing short.

Life and death. Wasn’t that the circle of life that Charity had chosen to constantly live with?

Looking down at the temporarily blind and deaf puppies instinctively snuggling up to their mother for warmth and comfort, Charity felt a distant tug she couldn’t quite define.

The mutt was a mess. Not only filthy, with fur tangled into mats, but probably flea-ridden, as well. Which meant that putting him into his rig would probably end up giving the fleas a whole new home.

But after he’d lived with the nasty sand fleas in Afghanistan and Iraq, it wouldn’t be anything new. Plus, he still had a jar of Combat-Ready Balm no Marine stationed in what had to be the holy land of sand fleas was ever without.

Not knowing the name of the vet he’d talked with briefly at the wedding, Gabe did a GPS search for the nearest clinic. Then, making a U-turn, he followed the automated female voice’s instructions back into Shelter Bay.

The clinic, which, from the outside, looked more like a Victorian bed-and-breakfast, was located at the far end of the harbor. A simple white wooden sign read HARBORVIEW VETERINARY CLINIC, DR. CHARITY TIERNAN, DVM, DAVSAB.

Gabe left the dog in the motor home, in case the office was closed, and walked up the steps to the wide front porch. The white Adirondack chairs next to potted flowers added to the B and B look and offered a spectacular view of the harbor. According to the hours posted on the front window, which had been brightened with a colorful glass sun catcher, the clinic was closed. But below that, a note invited people to ring the bell after hours.

So he did.

Less than a minute later, the door opened. And hot damn, there she was. The woman from the wedding.

She’d undone the clip holding her dark hair back, allowing it to fall loose over her shoulders. She’d also changed into a pair of pink and purple striped pajama bottoms and an oversized T-shirt that read,
I Sleep with Dogs
. A huge animal, which looked more like a polar bear than a dog, stood by her side. Not growling or bristling, but it was obvious he was there to protect his mistress.

“Well, hello,” she greeted him. “This is a surprise.”

“It’s not what you think,” he heard himself saying.

“And that would be?”

“It’s not a booty call.” Where the hell did that come from? Oh, yeah. He definitely needed to hone his communication skills.

“Okay.” She could have at least appeared a bit disappointed as she folded her arms. “Since I doubt you’re here to sell me wedding photos, why are you standing on my porch at this time of night?” Her tone and the sparkle that lit up her green eyes suggested she was laughing at him. Which was definitely not something Gabe was accustomed to.

“I’ve got this dog.”

“Good for you. Dogs are some of my favorite people.” She absently patted her own beast’s massive head as she glanced past him at the rig.

“Well, it’s not
my
dog. I picked it up.”

“It’s a stray?”

“I’d say so. Given that its owner dumped it out on the coast road.”

She sighed. The light dimmed in her eyes. “That happens all too often, unfortunately. But how did you know I ran a shelter?”

“I didn’t. He’s hurt. My GPS kicked up this address for the nearest vet.”

“Hurt?” The same way a convoy might react to an IED explosion, she switched into immediate, full professional alert. Her gaze snapped back to the rig. “How badly?”

“Nothing’s broken. At least I don’t think so. But he’s got one helluva case of road rash from being dragged beneath the van.”

“Can you bring him in?”

“Sure. I doubt he weighs in at ten pounds.”

“Poor thing.” She shook her head. “I’ll fix up an exam room while you fetch him.”

The dog was sitting right where he’d left him, on the passenger seat. Marble-round brown eyes gazed at Gabe as if the dog was patiently waiting for him to make things right, while an underbite showed a row of bottom teeth that under any other situation might have been comical. One of the teeth was chipped. Amazingly, considering what he’d been through, he thumped a fuzzy tail on the leather upholstery.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Gabe warned as he scooped up the ball of filthy fur. “Just because I did the Good Samaritan thing doesn’t mean there’s any room in my life for a dog.” As it was held against Gabe’s chest, the mutt lifted its front paws to his shoulders and licked his cheek. “Not going to work,” Gabe said as he carried it into the building.

The inside of the clinic was as bright and cheery as the outside. The wall of the reception area boasted a mural, jewel-toned fish swam in a saltwater aquarium, and painted signs above the two doorways leading off the main room designated separate cat and dog waiting rooms. Snapshots of dogs of various sizes and breeds up for adoption were tacked onto a bulletin board, like the FBI’s most-wanted criminals on a post office wall.

“Aw.” The vet took the dog from him and stroked its filthy head. “Poor baby, you’ve had a rough time of it, haven’t you, sweetie boy?”

The huge white dog was gone. Gabe guessed she’d put it away just in case it might scare the mutt. Or eat it for a nighttime snack.

She carried her patient down a short hallway, painted with more colorful animal-themed murals, to an examination room.

“You’re right on the money,” she said after weighing him. “Nine pounds, at least a pound of which is probably fur. He looks like a Shih Tzu mix beneath that mess, which means he could use a bit more weight on him.”

As the dog sat patiently on the scale, as if waiting for whatever might happen next, she held out her hand. “We haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Charity Tiernan.”

“Yeah, I got that from your sign.” Her grip was firm, her slender hand soft. “Gabe St. James.”

“I know
that
from your book.”

“You’ve seen it?”

“No. But it comes highly recommended by my assistant. I’d planned on checking it out at the bookstore tomorrow morning.”

Gabe had never really given much thought to the people who bought his books. But for some reason he liked the idea of this woman looking at his work. At least, he figured, given her career, she wouldn’t be put off by the bloody scenes that had been part of his life for more than a decade.

She hadn’t taken her hand back. It felt like silk and smelled like the tropics, probably from some lotion she’d rubbed into it before he’d shown up, but that didn’t stop the little zing that had him thinking about lying with her on a sun-drenched beach, feeling those hands touch him all over. And him doing the same thing to her.

He felt her pulse do a skip dance at the base of her thumb and realized she’d felt it, too.

“Well.” She stepped back and snapped on a pair of latex gloves.

She’d looked both intelligent and sexy at the wedding. When she’d opened the door, she’d looked soft, slightly tousled, and approachable. Now she somehow managed to look both nurturing and briskly professional at the same time.

The dog, having more guts than he would’ve expected, proved surprisingly stoic during her examination. But it did keep those huge, beseeching eyes on Gabe, as if with a need to make sure he, too, wasn’t going to bail.

“You’re right,” she said finally. Although I want to take a couple X-rays, given the trauma he would’ve suffered by being dragged beneath a vehicle, I can’t find anything broken.

“He does, however, have ticks, and those fur mats are risking infection, because they irritate his skin.” She brushed aside a tangle and showed him the red rough skin beneath. “It’s more than ugly—it can become a bad cycle. The skin itches from the mats, so the dog licks it, then the hair sticks, and causes more irritation and seepage, so the dog licks again. We’ll need to demat him, then put some antibiotic on the sores, road scrapes, those other burns.”

“Other burns?”

“Here.” She brushed aside some of the tangled fur. “And here.” Another spot. “And here. These small round circles.”

“Shit.” Gabe had seen his share of horrors. Been smack in the middle of them all too often. But as he identified those red blisters, his stomach turned. “Those look like they’re from a lit cigarette.”

“Probably. Unfortunately, again not so uncommon.” When she stroked the dog’s head, it licked her gloved hand.

“How do you do it?” he asked.

“Do what?” She took a syringe and needle from a cabinet.

“Stay so cool and not get furious at a crime like this?”

“I
am
furious.” A quick, sharp whip in her voice underscored her claim. “And after years of working with animals, I’ve never understood the human mind-set that allows abuse.” She injected the mutt, who didn’t emit so much as a whimper. It might look like a sissy dog, but beneath that mass of fur, it was proving to be as tough as any Marine. “I also run a no-kill shelter, and believe me, it’s all too easy to become cynical about people if you allow yourself to be.”

She took a deep breath. Pulled off the gloves and ran one of those silky hands through her hair. He watched her gather up her composure, which had shown signs of fraying. So, the lady had some heat inside.
Interesting.

“But instead of dwelling on my anger, I try to concentrate on my job, which is caring for animals who don’t have anyone else to care for them. I realized while I was still in vet school that it’s a waste of time trying to comprehend how anyone could purposefully torture a sweetie like this. What we need to do now is do our best to make up for past behavior and offer this little guy the future he deserves.”

“I couldn’t be that forgiving.” Although Gabe knew veterans who’d managed to successfully compartmentalize their lives, he doubted he could ever get to the point where he could forgive those bastards who’d done their best to kill him. And who’d killed so many fellow Marines.

“It’s an ongoing effort. Some days are admittedly easier than others. Today I attended a wedding of two people who are obviously madly in love, ate a cupcake that was to die for, and delivered six puppies. The pups and the mother probably would’ve died if Bernard Douchett hadn’t found her rummaging through a trash can on the beach and brought her to me. So I was in a pretty good mood when you showed up at my door.” Her smile was like sunshine breaking through a dismal coastal rain. “Which helps.”

“So, what are you going to do now?”

“Bathe him, give him a tick and flea dip, treat any skin irritation and wounds, give him a clipping to get rid of those mats and make him more presentable, and feed him a decent meal. I’ll also want to insert a microchip, give him a rabies injection, and, of course, neuter him.”

Gabe’s testicles pulled up tight.

“Do you know, every time I say that to a man, he gets the same look on his face that you have right now?”

“Maybe it’s because most guys have this thing about keeping their nuts.”

“Don’t worry.” Her tone was dry, but he could hear the repressed laughter in it. “Yours are safe. There are enough unwanted dogs in the world. This guy doesn’t need to be contributing to that population explosion. He’ll never know the difference and have fewer health problems as he gets older. That antibiotic I gave him will last ten days. If he shows any signs of infection, I’ll give him a second dose. That’ll save you from having to try to get him to take pills.”

“Me?”

“You’re not going to keep him?”

“I don’t have any room for a dog.”

“It’s a large motor home. And he’s a small dog.”

“Well, yeah, but I was talking about my lifestyle. I never stay anywhere more than a few days.”

“Do you have any idea how many full-time RVers there are in this country? And how many travel with pets?”

“Haven’t a clue.” Gabe didn’t really give a damn, either.

“Neither do I,” she admitted. “But there’s a bunch, because we get a lot of tourists in Shelter Bay. I treat their pets occasionally as they pass through. Most people enjoy their company.”

“I’m not most people.”

“Wow, now, there’s a news flash. Being above average intelligence, I’ve already figured that out for myself. How many Marines take wedding photos, after all?”

“So you know I’m a Marine?”

“I told you, my assistant told me about your book,” she reminded him. “Apparently you’re the talk of the town. And extremely talented. Which makes me wonder what had you taking on a wedding gig. Not that wedding photography might not be a lovely career, but it’s quite a major subject leap from war photos.”

“Cole was in my unit.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “The
Semper Fi
thing.”

“Yeah.”

Her eyes lit up. He could see himself reflected in them. “That’s sweet.”

“News flash, back atcha, Doc—Marines don’t exactly consider
sweet
a compliment. As for the mutt, I just did what anyone would do under the same circumstances. But I definitely wasn’t signing up for any long-term commitment.”

“You’re a male,” she murmured, as she wet a paper towel and washed some crusty guck from the dog’s eyes. “Which, I suppose, means that commitment isn’t exactly in your DNA.”

“I don’t know about all males.” He’d done the till-death-do-us-part vows once before and that sure as hell hadn’t worked out. Since then, he’d decided marriage wasn’t in the cards. At least not for him. “But Cole was sure as hell looking poleaxed at the wedding.”

She smiled again. “He was, wasn’t he?” Her expression immediately sobered.
Contrasts.
“Look, this little guy needs to spend the night here anyway, so I can clean him up and observe him to make sure there isn’t anything internal going on I may have missed. So, why don’t you sleep on it, and let me know your decision tomorrow?”