of her eye, Lainey saw a tanned hand settle on the counter. She swallowed hard, praying the floor would swallow her whole.
That prayer, like countless others, went unanswered.
“Can’t say.” He blew out a breath. “Every canine within fifty miles has been through the clinic, but I’ve never seen that mutt.”
Lainey scribbled the total plus a hefty tip on the receipt and reached for the bag. The waitress held it tight.
“You know anything about an abandoned dog?”
“She’s not abandoned,” Lainey muttered. Not yet, she added silently. She gave the bag a hard yank and stumbled when Shelly let go. As an arm reached out to steady her, Lainey looked up into Ethan’s dark eyes. Recognition dawned, and with it his gaze filled with anger. Maybe she deserved it, she thought. The way she’d left town ten years ago, why would he show her any kindness now?
“Good lord,” he said.
“Nope.” Lainey hitched her chin a notch, with the tiny bit of pride she had left. “Just me.”
“What are you doing here?”
“My mom—”
“I know about Vera.” He ran a hand through thick hair that curled against the collar of his faded Duke T-shirt. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“She had a stroke. Of course I came.”
“Hold the phone, people.” Shelly’s heavily lined eyes blinked several times. “Are you …” Glancing at the card before handing it back to Lainey, she said aloud, “Melanie Morgan.”
A hush fell over the diner.
Shelly’s gaze shifted to Ethan. “She’s the Lainey Morgan. Your Lainey.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Not mine,” he said. “Just Vera’s daughter.” A subtle patchwork of lines etched the bronzed skin around his eyes, highlighting their deep chocolate color.
A blush rose to Lainey’s cheeks. This was so not the way she’d pictured her morning. “I have to get out of here,” she said to no one in particular.
“Not so fast, girlie.” Shelly leaned across the counter, her twang thicker with every syllable. “Your mama is in a delicate state. She don’t need anyone upsetting her.”
“I’m here to help,” Lainey said through clenched teeth, hating how defensive she sounded.
“Vera Morgan is a saint, I tell you.” This from an elderly woman two stools down.
Lainey glanced around the crowded diner. If looks could kill, she’d be a goner a hundred times over. Those angry stares were what had kept her away for so long. And the reason she already regretted returning. Cradling the bag of food against her belly, she raced for the door. To know why people loathed the sight of her didn’t make it any easier to stomach.
When the door to Carl’s slammed, Ethan blew out a breath. “I need the water to go.” He forced an even tone and raised his eyebrows, willing Shelly to remain silent.
She didn’t speak. The entire diner was eerily quiet, but the pity in her smile made him grit his teeth. He’d tolerated enough pity for two lifetimes. He’d gone from the town’s golden boy to a humiliated laughingstock because of Lainey Morgan and had no intention of repeating that mistake.
He stalked outside where the dog lay under the iron bench. Water sloshed over the side of the cup and dripped down his fingers as she lapped up greedy gulps.
“What are you doing?” Lainey asked behind him. She held a small bowl of water in one hand, balancing the takeout bag in the other arm.
In an instant, her scent surrounded him, different than before—still sweet but with a hint of something he couldn’t name. “Shouldn’t you be halfway to the county line by now?”
“Not that it matters, but my mother called me. Or had Julia call me. I’m not running away.”
“We’ll see how long that lasts.”
“She needs help—”
“I’ve worked with Vera a long time. I know what she needs.” He paused then said, “It’s been tough, between the stroke and rehabilitation. She’s not used to doing what other people tell her.”
“That may be the understatement of the century.” She sighed, a small, sad sound.
He pushed his fingers into the thick fur around the dog’s neck then looked at Lainey. “No collar,” he muttered. “What idiot …”
She crossed and uncrossed her arms over her chest, avoiding his gaze. Finally she reached out and smoothed the hair on top of the animal’s head. “I’m the idiot.”
Her voice was so quiet he wasn’t sure he’d heard right.
“This is my dog. Sort of. Not really.” A wave of pink stained her cheeks.
“Your dog?” He looked back and forth between the two. The dog pushed against Lainey’s hand as she halfheartedly scratched behind its ears.
“Her name’s Pita. For now.”
“And you left her in the sun?” He grabbed the blue rope tied to the bench’s armrest and worked his fingers against the knot. “Didn’t you learn anything from your dad?”
She took a step back as if he’d struck her. Regret flashed through her eyes before they turned steely cold. “I was getting a hamburger for the dog at the diner and her water dish from my car. I’d have been here ten minutes ago if the waitress hadn’t insisted I pay cash.”
Ethan glanced at the paper bag Lainey still held. “Plus you’re feeding her greasy table food. Nice.”
Her finger stabbed into his chest. “Excuse me, Dr. Doolittle, but I ran out of dog food and there was nothing off the backwoods highway on my way in this morning.” She rolled her eyes. “In case you weren’t aware, Piggly Wiggly doesn’t open for another hour, and I need to get to the hospital.”
She whirled away. Tugging hard on the dog’s leash, she stomped toward an ancient Land Cruiser parked near the curb.
He touched her arm but she shrugged him off.
“Lainey, wait …”
She spun back around and shook her finger in his face.
“One more thing before you send the Humane Society after me. I said this dog was sort of mine. She’s been hanging around my house for a couple weeks. I posted reward signs all over the neighborhood but strays are pretty much the official dog of New Mexico.”
She continued wagging the finger and moving toward him until he was flattened against the diner’s brick exterior. “She stowed away in the back of my truck—not a peep until the Oklahoma state line. Too late to turn around.”
Pausing for a breath, she bit down on her lower lip. Ethan’s heart
