“It is,” Micah agreed. “But you have to admit, he is a little...stout.”
“That’s hardly his fault,” she protested.
Micah laughed softly. “You don’t have to defend him to me,” he said. “I love the guy. And if I thought his nickname actually hurt his feelings, I wouldn’t use it. But believe it or not, he won’t answer to Chase. He only responds to Chunk.”
The dog snorted again, confirming his master’s words.
“How long have you two worked together?” She was genuinely curious, and Micah’s relationship with Chunk seemed like a fairly safe topic of conversation.
“Almost two years. I was partnered with him right after I joined the force.”
“Did you always know you wanted to have a dog as a partner?” It wasn’t the usual career path for a police officer, but then again, Red Ridge was known for its K-9 police unit and dog training center, courtesy of her father’s money. It was one of the more unselfish things Fenwick had done, and if it hadn’t been for her mother’s insistence, he probably wouldn’t have even considered it.
Micah was quiet, and for a moment Bea wondered if he was going to answer the question. She didn’t think it was too personal, but perhaps he didn’t want to talk about his motivations for joining the K-9 squad. “I actually worked with a dog while I was in the Army Rangers. His name was Duke, and he was a German shepherd.”
“Was?” She picked up on the past tense of the word, and her stomach tightened. Had something happened to the dog? No wonder Micah didn’t want to discuss it...
“Duke was shot during an ambush. Fortunately, he survived, and one of the veterinary nurses who took care of him adopted him.”
Bea breathed a sigh of relief at hearing the dog was okay. “That must have been really difficult, seeing him injured like that.”
“Yeah.” Micah swallowed hard. “It was one of the lowest moments of my life.”
Silence fell over them, and Bea could have kicked herself for pressing for more information. So much for keeping the conversation light and easy.
Bea searched for something to say but came up empty. She wished they could go back to the easy back-and-forth of a moment ago, but she couldn’t think of another topic of conversation to try. So she remained quiet, figuring it was better to say nothing at all than to blurt out something she’d come to regret.
Micah seemed comfortable with the silence, and she had to wonder if maybe he preferred it to talking to her. After all, he’d left her once before. He probably would have been happy to carry on without her in his life, but she’d forced her way back in, if only for a little while.
The thought had her second-guessing her decision once more, and she shifted in the seat. “How long do you think this will last?”
Micah lifted one shoulder in a shrug as he considered her question. “I’m not sure. Maybe a few days. Possibly longer than that.”
Bea frowned, turning to look out the window so he wouldn’t catch her expression. While a part of her was uncomfortable with the idea of spending so much time with Micah, a larger part insisted she stay with him. It didn’t make sense, but with the rest of her world in such chaos, she wanted—no, needed—the comfort of the familiar. And even though she and Micah had spent a lot of time apart, she still felt like she knew him. He was a safe port in this storm, and she wasn’t strong enough to pretend otherwise.
“I’m going to keep you safe,” he said quietly. “I know things are...different...between us, but I won’t let you get hurt again.”
“I know,” she said, turning back to offer him a small smile. “I trust you, Micah. That’s why I was so insistent in the hospital.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but apparently thought better of it. He cleared his throat, instead, leaving her wondering what he’d left unsaid.
“Micah?”
“We’re almost home,” he said, dodging her implicit question.
Bea leaned back against the headrest, knowing better than to pry. It was only natural he was quiet around her. They were still getting used to seeing each other again.
He turned onto a graveled drive, and she glanced out the window at the trees that dotted the landscape. It wasn’t until they were halfway down the drive that she realized she knew where they were headed because she’d been there before.
“This might be my concussion talking, but are we going to your aunt’s house?”
Micah gave her a fleeting smile. “Yeah. At least, it was her house. She left it to me after she died.”
Bea vaguely remembered reading the woman’s obituary in the local paper several years ago. Micah had still been deployed, and she’d meant to go to the funeral to pay her respects. But something had come up, and she hadn’t made it to the service.
“I was sorry to hear of her passing.”
“Thank you.” He was quiet a moment as they crunched along the drive. “It was rough on me, losing her. We were close, and I hated not being able to come home to see her before she died.”
Bea hadn’t known the woman had been sick until the announcement of her death. Micah’s Aunt Wanda had been a friendly yet private woman, and like many other people her age, she had had her pride. It would never have occurred to her to ask for help, and Bea felt a little stab of guilt for not checking on her while Micah was away.
“I’m sure she understood,” Bea said. “I know she was very proud of you.” Bea wasn’t just trying to make Micah feel better. She’d spent some time with Aunt Wanda when she and Micah had dated, and the woman’s love for her nephew had been obvious enough for a blind man to see. Micah’s aunt hadn’t been able to have children of her own, so she was practically a second mother to Micah, especially after his own had died when he was only twelve.
Bea reached out in the darkness of the truck and laid her hand on his forearm. He jumped, clearly startled by her touch. But a second later his hand slid over hers, large and warm and a little rough against her skin.
For a moment, Bea allowed herself to pretend they were still a couple, headed home after a nice evening out in Red Ridge. She pictured a gold band on her hand, his matching ring glinting in the moonlight shining through the driver’s side window. Their kids would be tucked into bed by now, the sitter watching something on TV with the volume down low. They’d walk into the house and Chunk would rise from his bed in the kitchen to greet them and beg for a treat. They’d pay the babysitter and check on the kids, one boy and one girl, then head to their bedroom and make love before falling asleep in each other’s arms.
It was an image that made her heart ache. How different her life would have been, if only Micah hadn’t changed his mind. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him why, but the idea of having that conversation was overwhelming, especially with her current headache.
A moment later, Micah pulled into the paved driveway and parked the truck under a large carport. He killed the engine, then turned to Bea. “Wait here,” he said softly. “I’ll come around to help you out.”
Bea
