a couple years older than Melissa,” she corrected in a prim tone.
“Still very young.” Especially when lately he’d felt as if he were a hundred years old. Maybe in part because he’d seen things no man should have to endure. Despite the hardships, he firmly believed freedom was worth the effort.
Tara set a brisk pace, and he wasn’t sure it was because she was cold or because she was anxious to get rid of him. He couldn’t blame her if she felt uncomfortable being in the dark alone with him. After they walked several blocks she lifted her hand and pointed. “My house is over there, the third one from the corner.”
“The little red brick house with the white trim and black shutters?” he asked.
“Yes.” As they approached, she frowned. “I wonder why Beau isn’t barking his head off by now. Usually he hears me coming long before this.”
An icy chill snaked down his spine, and he grasped her arm. “Tara, wait. Maybe I should go up first.”
Tuning in to his abrupt wariness, she sucked in a quick breath. “Why? You think something happened to Beau?”
He couldn’t explain his trepidation, and he held on to her arm, bringing her to a halt. “Give me your key,” he commanded.
She handed it over, and he swept a glance over the area, making sure no one was lurking around.
He put the key in the lock and turned the doorknob, slowly pushing the door open. The house was eerily silent. From where he stood outside, he stretched until he could slide his hand over the inside wall of her foyer, seeking the light switch.
“Stay here.” The area flooded with light, and he wasn’t sure if it was a good sign or a bad sign that the dog wasn’t lying there on the floor directly in front of the door.
“No way. I’m coming with you.”
He wanted to argue, but then he heard it—a little whimper of sound.
“Beau?” Tara must have heard it, too, and she pushed past him, rushing down the hall into the kitchen, with blatant disregard of her own safety.
“Wait!” He grit his teeth with anger and followed, intent on keeping her out of harm’s way.
“Oh, no. Beau!”
When he rounded the corner, he saw what had caused her cry of distress. Beau was lying on his side—obviously sick, unable lift his white, fluffy head off the floor.
“Beau?” Feeling helpless, he watched Tara anxiously kneel beside her dog, gently gathering his limp body into her arms. She cradled him against her chest, nuzzling his head with her face as she stood. “What happened? Are you sick?”
“Here, let me take a look at him.”
She obviously didn’t want to let Beau go, so Max simply placed his large palm over the dog’s chest to check his pulse, relieved to feel the thready, irregular beat. “I think we need to get him to a vet as soon as possible.”
“The emergency clinic isn’t far.” Tara took a step toward the door but then stopped, her expression stricken. “I don’t have my car.”
No car. And a ride on the bus would take too long, if they even allowed a dog on the city bus. He quickly considered their options. “Does Mrs. Henderson have a car?”
“Yes.” Tara looked relieved and instantly rushed outside, headed straight for the house to the right, a robin’s egg–blue Cape Cod. She lifted her hand and pounded on the door.
After what seemed like a long time, the door was opened by a squat, round woman wearing thick glasses and a bright purple fuzzy robe. “Tara? What is it?”
“Beau is sick. My car has a flat tire, so will you let me borrow yours to take him to the vet?” Tara spoke loudly, making Max suspect Mrs. Henderson didn’t hear too well, and clutched the dog close to her breast as if it were her child. Max understood Beau was important to her. “Please? I promise to bring it back soon.”
“Sure, but what happened?” The woman opened her door and gestured for them to come in. “Beau was fine when I let him out about an hour ago.”
“I don’t know. Maybe he ate something that made him sick.” Tara looked impatient, and Mrs. Henderson must have noticed because she hurried over to her purse and dug out her car keys. Tara snatched them from her grasp. “Thank you so much. I’ll reimburse you for the gas.”
“Don’t worry about it. Just take good care of Beau.” The woman’s expression was one of concern.
Tara nodded. He reached over and took the keys from her. “Why don’t you let me drive?”
She didn’t argue and hurried out to the garage to Mrs. Henderson’s large, ancient green Buick. He closed the passenger door behind her and then hustled around to the driver’s side. He backed carefully out of the driveway. “Which way?”
“To the right, then left at the corner.” Tara gave him directions, dividing her attention between the road and her dog.
Her love and worry for her pet was obvious. He assumed she lived in the house alone with only Beau as a companion. The news that Tara might not have a man in her life made him secretly relieved; yet he knew it shouldn’t matter. Not when her dog was sick and his sister barely clung to her life in the ICU.
This wasn’t the time to think about the pretty social worker on a personal level. Hadn’t he learned his lesson before? He’d discovered the hard way that gratitude wasn’t the path to finding love and commitment. Besides, his future wasn’t his own; he’d be back in Iraq before long. He pushed the inappropriate thoughts of Tara away and centered his attention on the road.
“There, on the right. That’s the emergency vet.”
He saw the building she indicated and pulled into the driveway. He’d barely pulled the Buick to a stop when she jumped out of the car.
“Wait,” he called, but she disappeared behind the glass doors without a backward glance. He sat there, wondering why he was here at the vet when he should be at the hospital sitting beside Lissa. His sister should be his highest priority.
Yet he couldn’t simply abandon Tara. Not until he knew her dog was okay. She’d supported Lissa at the hospital, had tried to help his sister in the past, too. Tara deserved at least a little support.
Besides, he’d left his duffel bag on the floor of her foyer, so he’d have to go back there anyway. Rubbing the exhaustion from his face, he turned off the car and walked into the building.
Tara and Beau were already in the back, seeing the vet. Watching them in deep conversation made him hesitate, but then he decided he’d barged into her life this much, he may as well go for broke. He approached the desk. “I’m with Tara and her dog, Beau.”
“Oh, sure. Come on back.” The secretary/receptionist buzzed him through, and he found Tara, her blue eyes luminous with tears.
“I don’t understand how this could have happened,” she was saying in a low husky tone. “My neighbor Mrs. Henderson lets him outside for me, but she wouldn’t hurt him. And I don’t think she takes him
