Yes, she’s a dog. A very nice dog,” Zoe said. “Would you like to meet her?”
“Da!”
Zoe laughed. “I think it’s time you put Patrick down, Sean. He may not be ready to accept me,” she whispered, “but it looks like he’s more than ready to have a fur buddy.”
“I don’t know.”
“Let’s try it,” she suggested. “Put Patrick down so he and Freya can meet on the same level.” A flat hand in front of the eager K-9’s muzzle kept her from lunging and overwhelming the child the way most dogs would.
As soon as the boy’s shoes touched the floor he ducked behind his daddy’s leg, holding on at the knee. Zoe wasn’t worried. She caught Sean’s eye and shook her head to keep him from interfering, then sat on her heels.
“Patrick, this is Freya.” She looked to her panting partner. “Freya, this is Patrick. Friend.”
There was no doubt the dog agreed. Although she kept her distance as ordered, she began to wiggle as if seated on a hill of swarming ants.
“Put your hand out like this and let her sniff you,” Zoe said, demonstrating. “She can tell you like her by the way your fingers smell.”
Sean interrupted. “Is that true?”
“In a manner of speaking. She can sense fear and pick out gunpowder residue, plus all sorts of icky things I won’t mention. The key is this introduction. It will be your turn as soon as Patrick is done.”
“Maybe I should...”
“Trust me?” she said.
A soft chuckle preceded Sean’s reply. “Since when did you get so bossy?”
“Since I was trained and know what I’m doing.”
“Humph. Okay. You’re the police officer.”
“Yup,” she said with an echoing laugh. “Watch and learn, civilian.”
Another hand signal caused Freya to lie down. Patrick reached forward. She sniffed his fingertips, then licked them. He giggled. “Like me.”
“Yes, she does. And so do I,” Zoe said. As if on cue, the dog rolled over, tail still wagging, legs flopping wide. “She trusts you and wants you to scratch her tummy,” Zoe told the boy. “Go ahead. Her fur is really soft.”
He had to come out from behind Sean and squat to reach the dog’s stomach. Zoe couldn’t have been happier at his rapid response. She grinned up at Sean. “Okay. Your turn. She wouldn’t have rolled over if she was worried about you, so join the party.”
Sean began by crouching, then dropped all the way next to his son, keeping one arm around him. Patrick eased into his father’s lap, followed closely by Freya. The idyllic scene was the kind that made Zoe wish she could snap a photo without disturbing them. Father and son were hugging each other while the dog leaned against Sean’s chest and reached up to lick under his chin as if they had known each other for years.
He laughed. “As Patrick said, I think she likes me.”
“I’d say so. It’s a good thing her main training is in search and rescue. You might be ruining her if she was an attack dog.”
“Really?”
Because he looked worried she admitted to teasing. “No. Not really. But it is unusual to see her take to anybody so fast.”
“She knows we’re the good guys, right, Patrick?” Sean said. The boy nodded his agreement.
Zoe slowly rose. “Tell you what. After you put your things in your room and we go shopping for your favorite foods, maybe I’ll have time to teach Patrick how to brush her. Would you like that, honey?”
Again a nod, this time with a shy smile. Zoe had no quarrel with his medical diagnosis. She simply saw more to Patrick’s reticence than brain damage. In her opinion, he needed to be showered with love in order to be more confident, to blossom the way she felt he could.
Whether there would be time for her to help enough to matter was not up to her, it was up to her heavenly Father. She was beginning to suspect that Sean’s need to come to Desert Valley was not limited to one objective. There was healing here for him. And for Patrick. And, God willing, for her, as well.
It had been a long time since she’d actually looked forward to having free time and not concentrating on her job 24/7. Truth to tell, she sort of felt like a puppy that had just been let out into a big play yard for the first time. If she hadn’t been afraid of frightening Patrick she might have pumped a fist in the air and danced around the room.
After a quick tour of the house, Sean agreed to ride with Zoe and Freya rather than drive separately to the grocery store. If she had been anybody other than an armed police officer, he wasn’t sure what he’d have done. He’d been so used to taking care of himself and being the only responsible adult in his son’s life, it felt odd to not stay in full control.
She glanced over at him and smiled. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Right. And I’m Santa Claus. Talk to me, Murphy. I know something’s bugging you.”
Shrugging, he smiled at her. “Actually, I just realized I can relax a little when I’m with you. It’s hard to accept.”
“What is? Relaxing or trusting me?”
“Not being in command. Since I got back to the States, I’ve had to do it all. Believe me, the Shepherds didn’t like most of my decisions.”
“Such as?”
Sean lowered his voice and glanced over his shoulder at the backseat where his son and the dog were having a whispered conversation that included a lot of face licking on Freya’s part. “Whether or not to bring Patrick home, for one. They wanted him to either stay in rehab or go to their house for private treatment. When I saw how unhappy he was in the hospital environment and how much better he acted with me, I decided to spring him.”
“What did his therapists say?”
It hurt to repeat the negative opinions. “They felt he had made all the progress he probably would, and it didn’t matter whether I left him there or took him with me.”
“Then you have no reason to feel guilty.” Zoe smiled. “Right?”
“Right. All I have to do is get my own act together so I can be a good father to him. If I keep having flashbacks, I may have to relinquish custody—for his sake.”
“And give it to whom? I remember when your mom and dad were killed in that auto accident during my second semester of college.” She arched her brows. “Surely you wouldn’t consider your wife’s parents after what you’ve told me!”
“No,
