to her entire life, if anyone found out about it.
Solitude was her fortress, and she kept herself inside it of her own free will. She couldn’t afford to lose sight of that.
But the phone kept beckoning her. He might be dead. It would be nice to know that he was.
The thought upset her, it seemed so evil, but the man had done evil things to her. She didn’t exactly wish him dead, she assured herself. It was just that she knew she wouldn’t be free of him until he was gone. Then she would have only the horrible things she’d done herself to be worried about. By comparison, her own deeds seemed paltry. She could handle that guilt.
She looked at the phone beside her chair and knew that she was going to call. She didn’t want to. She couldn’t stand the thought of hearing his voice again, but she had to know. Ever since she could remember, she had been doing things she didn’t want to because of that man, and she longed to break his hold over her.
But she couldn’t stop herself. As if watching from a distance, she saw her hand reach out for the receiver, watched her own fingers punch in a number she would never forget. Then, holding her breath, she waited while the phone rang. It was two hours later back there, and if he wasn’t up already, he would be getting up soon.
On the sixth ring, a groggy male voice answered. “Hello?”
She slammed down the receiver immediately, disconnecting the call. Her heart hammered wildly, and she could scarcely catch her breath.
He was still alive. Still sleeping in her mother’s bed as if he’d never done anything wrong. She would bet he never had nightmares about what he’d done to her. Never. He probably slept like a baby.
And suddenly, unable to help herself, Anna burst into tears and cried until she couldn’t cry anymore.
“Anna, you have to rescue me.”
Anna looked up from her desk as Reverend Daniel Fromberg stepped in from the brisk day outside. She made a point of always getting to the office ahead of him, and he had to insist in order to get her to leave before him.
Daniel Fromberg was a pleasant-looking man in his late forties.
Just average in height, he had a slight build that sometimes made people underestimate his backbone. As Anna had learned during the past five years, Daniel Fromberg had a backbone of steel when it came to what was right.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, feeling a smile curve the corners of her mouth. With two teenage children and a pair of unexpected two-year-old twins, Dan Fromberg was often in need of her help. It usually involved finding him a baby-sitter so he could save his wife’s sanity.
“The dogs!” he said with an exaggerated groan as he dropped into the chair facing her desk. Eight weeks ago, the Frombergs’ Irish setter had given birth to four adorable little pups. “They’re driving me nuts. They’re driving Cheryl nuts. They’re into everything! Piddling all over the place, making little piles behind the couch, the TV, the bed—you name it!”
“So get a gate and lock them into one small area of the house.”
He shook his head. “I tried to. Clearly you do not know my children.”
She laughed; she couldn’t help it. “They let them out, huh?”
“All the time. The older ones finally got the message, but the twins…!” He shook his head. “They just love to release the catch. Cheryl tried using a twisty-tie to stop them, but Dan junior figured it out.
Then we tried a padlock, but this morning Jolly—that’s the momma dog—got fed up with being cooped up and knocked the darn thing down. I now have holes in the doorjamb and a broken gate. Cheryl’s threatening to take the pups to the pound.”
Anna felt a twinge of dismay. “You can’t do that! Surely you can get someone to adopt them.”
“That’s what we thought. I mean, the whole reason we never got Jolly spayed was because the older kids wanted puppies, and Cheryl thought it would be a good experience for them. But now we’ve got too many puppies, and would you believe it? Nobody wants a dog, especially mongrels. Everybody already has a dog.” He eyed her. “Except you.”
“No, you can’t do this to me.”
“Do what to you? Give you a warm, furry little companion? Some soft-eyed little fuzzball that will curl up on your feet on cold winter evenings? A friend who will always be glad to see you and will lick your face when you get sad? How can that be construed as doing something to you?”
Anna felt herself weakening. It was true, she had been thinking about a pet, but she had thought a cat would be better suited to her sometimes long work hours. “It wouldn’t be fair to a puppy to leave it alone all day.”
“So bring it here,” he said. “I’ll even get you a pet carrier to keep it in.
I’ll pay for all the shots. I’ll help you housebreak it.”
“Well…”
“Just a minute.” He dashed back outside and moments later returned carrying a small auburn-colored puppy in his arms. “I call her Jazz, but you can call her whatever you want,” he said, and dumped the puppy in her arms.
Anna was lost. She felt the warm little body quiver fearfully in her arms and instinctively began to pet it and coo gently to it. Jazz’s ears were huge, so long that Anna imagined they must touch the floor when the puppy stood. It had a plump little pink tummy just like a baby. “Dan…”
“Adorable, isn’t she? And I’ll pay to have her spayed, too, so you don’t develop a puppy problem. Trust me, she’ll brighten your life.”
Anna looked down into soft brown eyes and felt a tiny pink tongue lick her chin tentatively. “You are so sweet,” she heard herself say to the dog. “This is extortion, Dan. You know I can’t let her go to the pound.”
“Certainly not. She’s yours.”
Anna looked at Jazz and smiled. “Thank you.”
“I’ll get the carrier out of the car.”
By the time Dan returned, Anna had already figured out a bunch of benefits to having a dog. She would be able to take walks on dark winter evenings without feeling quite as afraid or alone. She would have a dog to keep her company in the dead of night when she couldn’t sleep. In short, Jazz would go a long way toward easing her loneliness without forcing her to take risks.
Then the puppy licked her chin again, and none of the rest of it mattered. She was in love.
Dan set the carrier down in the corner with a stack of newspapers. “I figured the least I could do is provide the first batch of cage liners.”
“Thanks.”
He sat down facing her again. “You look awful, Anna. Exhausted. Have you been having trouble sleeping again?”
“Just a little.” She really
