about Rufus than she’d imagined.
“Interesting.” Lyle waited.
She looked at him. His expectant expression suggested he was truly interested in what she was saying. Yet she couldn’t imagine him actually caring.
“How did you train together?”
“Are you really interested?” What if he was just asking to keep her talking as part of her “therapy”? None of the men she had known before him had cared one way or another. Why would he be any different?
“Aye. I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.” His voice carried concern. It had been so long since she’d heard that in a man’s voice, it struck a deep chord within her.
“I had to do a written test and have a physical. Then I had to have a home visit so the powers-that-be knew I could care for a working dog. An animal like Rufus can cost as much as ten thousand American dollars so handlers are vetted closely. That kind of money can’t be wasted. Rufus had to have a physical as well, and learn obedience basics and detection, especially body odor recognition. It was pretty intense for both of us.”
“A powerful bonding experience for you both.”
Cass’s chest tightened from the memories. They had indeed bonded. She had loved the dog, heart and soul. At least Lyle seemed to understand. “Though he was only four, he was getting old for a working dog. Rufus was going to have to retire soon. I had already put in the paperwork to take him after he was done.”
“Going to canine therapy was almost like punishment for you. You should have said something.” His distress was evident in his voice.
She looked away in horror. “And embarrass myself, like I did a few minutes ago?”
Lyle took hold of her hand. His was large, secure…comforting. “You haven’t embarrassed yourself. It’s okay to be human.”
“Yeah, but blubbering all over you is a bit too human.”
He leaned closer until his shoulder touched hers. “I didn’t mind. I’m just sorry I kept pushing you into canine therapy.”
“I figured you’d seen it in my file.” She winced at how pitiful she sounded.
“Yeah, but that didn’t mean I understood how close you were.”
Great. He probably thought she had really gone off her rocker. “I don’t know if I can handle being around a dog right now. I’ll be leaving here in a few weeks and I, uh, just can’t risk becoming attached to another one.” What she wasn’t telling him about was the heavy guilt she carried over the fact that Rufus had sacrificed himself to save her life. If he hadn’t barked, she would have never looked up to see the wall starting to fall. Or that he’d jumped and pushed her out of the way. It had been a split second between her life and Rufus’s death.
“I understand completely,” Lyle said sincerely. “Would you consider an alternative kind of therapy, if we can come up with one? Maybe just helping out at the canine clinic. Not having a specific dog assigned to you.”
She was doubtful it would work but she could try. At least he was trying to work with her. Somehow she had to get past this grief, rebuild her life emotionally and move on. Yet her heart protested with a fresh pang even as she said with caution, “That might work.”
“If it doesn’t, then we’ll try something else.” His sincere tone and expression convinced her he would at least listen if she complained. Lyle’s comfort was the first she’d had since Rufus had died. She was going to hang onto it.
He let her hand go and shifted away. “Do you feel up to a bite to eat?”
“I don’t want to go to the dining room.”
“It’s too late for that.” He tilted his head toward the glass.
Cass was shocked to find it was dark. How long had they been sitting there? “I’m so sorry. I made you miss dinner.”
“Not a problem. Mrs. Renwick will have left me something in the kitchen. Let’s go see what we can find.”
“I think I’ll just go up to my room.” She wanted to get away. Regain her composure.
“Nonsense. You must be hungry, and I could use the company while I eat.”
She had kept Lyle from his hot meal. She owed him. “Okay, I can do that.”
“Not the most excited acceptance I’ve been given to a dinner invitation, but I’ll take it.” He stood.
Cass liked his sense of humor. He seemed to take life as it came without too much angst. She lacked that ability. Her way of meeting life’s challenges now consisted of worry, fear of failure and the guilty conviction she hadn’t done enough to make a difference. She wanted to save everyone, give them what her family had received. The chances of achieving that desire were slim to none, but still it was her goal. Now she was just a mass of nerves, help to no one. Not even herself. Squaring her shoulders, she said, “I’ll try to do better in the future.”
He offered his hand. “That’s what I like to hear. That old tough Cass. You had me worried there for a while.”
Lyle still thought she was tough? She would have thought he would have seen her as the opposite after the last few hours. She took his hand just long enough to get to her feet. “How’s that?”
He put his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I don’t handle crying females well.”
“I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.” She couldn’t meet his eyes.
“Hey, I’m glad I was here to help. Now, let’s go and get some dinner.” He started toward the hall and she joined him.
Lyle led the way to the kitchen. His heart went out to Cass. She was distraught over the loss of her dog. He knew well the empty hole loss could leave in your life. He had felt it intensely when Freya had left him. When he’d told Cass that he didn’t handle women crying well, he hadn’t been kidding. All he’d done was hold her.
The fact that he’d liked having her cry on his shoulder was a bit unnerving. What had begun as a professional obligation to check on a resident in crisis had ended in a very personal act of compassionate empathy. Was he drawn to her because he could sense her private suffering? Whatever it was, Cass held some sort of spell over him. One he didn’t mind being captivated by.
Cass followed him quietly to the kitchen, seeming fine with doing so. They walked through the now silent dining room to the swing door beside the fireplace. He held it open for her as they entered the large commercial-style kitchen.
“Have a seat at the table.” There was a small wooden one next to two corner windows in the large room. “I’ll see what I can find in the fridge.”
Her chair scraped over the tile floor as she took a seat.
Opening one of the doors of the very large fridge, Lyle announced with deliberate cheer, “Ah, we have roast beef and vegetable soup. How does a sandwich and a bowl
