When Silence Falls

“Should I?”

“I guess not, though every other man in my life would.”

“Then it’s good I’m not any of the other men in your life.”

She smiled for the first time since getting out of her car, her face lighting, her eyes silvery gray. “I’m sorry you came all the way over here for nothing.”

“It’s not a problem. I was on my way home, anyway.”

“Are you close?”

“Just a few streets over. Off of Main Street.”

“And you moved in there a month ago? I can’t believe I didn’t hear anything about it. Usually news spreads like wildfire around here.”

“Between my work and Dad’s physical therapy I’m gone more than I’m home, so there’s probably not much news to spread.”

“I can sympathize. I probably wouldn’t be home at all if I didn’t teach piano lessons here.”

“This used to be your uncle’s studio, didn’t it?”

“I’m surprised you remember.”

“How could I forget? Seth had carpool duty the year he got his license. We’d pick you up from school and drop you off here. Then interrupt whatever we were doing to come back and bring you home.”

“That’s right. I’d forgotten. But now that you mention it, I seem to recall a few very tense car rides.” She was smiling again, her face soft with memories, her fingers tapping against the kitchen counter.

She’d grown into her fey eyes and stubborn chin, grown into the gangly arms and legs that had been too skinny when she was a teen. Now, dressed in white slacks and matching jacket, a vivid blue tank top in some silky material beneath it, she looked like the accomplished professional she’d become. A very attractive professional, and Cade wasn’t sure he was comfortable with the change.

Nor was he comfortable leaving her alone in the house when his gut said there was more to the open door than there seemed to be.

So maybe now was the time to try a little persuasion.

He straightened, placing his empty can on the counter. “If you’re sure you’re not interested in going to the SPCA, then I’d better head out.”

“I’m sure.”

“Good. Too bad for the dog, though.”

“What dog?”

“The dog you would have been giving a home to.”

Her eyes narrowed, her fingers stilling. “You said you weren’t going to try to talk me into it.”

“Actually, I said I wasn’t going to argue with you, or try to persuade you. And I’m not.”

“Then what do you call what you’re doing?”

“Presenting the facts.”

“And they would be?”

“You’re alone in a house at the end of a very secluded street. Your house is about as secure as an open safe in the middle of a den of thieves. Last night, someone came very close to breaking into one of your windows. Today, you came home and found your front door open.”

“You said—”

“I said it was probably nothing, but that doesn’t mean it was. A dog will serve as a deterrent and an early warning system. If anyone gets within a few hundred feet of the house, you’ll know it. You’ll have added security and the dog will have the home it needs. Sounds like a win-win situation to me.”

For a moment she was silent. Then she shook her head, amusement flashing in her eyes. “You’re good. Really good. My brothers would have beaten me over the head with their opinions. Then demanded I do what they wanted. You’re just standing there as relaxed as can be, waiting for me to make the right choice for me and for some dog I haven’t even met yet.”

“Is it the right choice for you?”

“I don’t know, but now I feel obligated to check it out.” She looked disgruntled, but not altogether unhappy, amusement still dancing in her eyes, her fingers tapping a rhythm on the counter once again.

“Let’s head out then.”

“Give me ten minutes to change.” She started down the hall toward the bedroom, then turned back. “Promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You won’t let me walk out of there with more than one dog.”

He had the nerve to laugh, his eyes, green as the Irish hills his family had come from, sparkling with mirth. “I promise.”

FIVE

Piper had known it would come to this—standing in the SPCA kennel, looking at one dog after another and wishing she could adopt them all despite the fact that she knew she didn’t want even one. The pitiful little terrier mix that would keep her up all night with its yapping, the black lab mix that looked like it had more energy than brains, the beautiful German shepherd that had been found wandering beside the lake—each in need of a good home. And then there were the rest—barking, yapping, howling, begging for attention. Piper turned in a circle, scanning the long row of cages. “How could I ever choose?”

“The shepherd is beautiful, and it looks like she’s had training.” Cade stood at the shepherd’s cage, eyeing the dog in question.

“Which means there will be plenty of people who want to take her home. I’d rather give a second chance to a dog who probably won’t get one.”

“Do you mean that?” The SPCA volunteer who had walked them back into the kennel area spoke up, scratching the top of his balding head and shifting from foot to foot.

“Mean what?”

“What you said about giving a chance to a dog that wasn’t going to get one?”

It sounded like a question Piper should answer with a loud and firm “no,” but she was intrigued, wondering what kind of animal could possibly be so bad it had no chance at all of a home. “I guess that depends on the dog.”

The volunteer studied her for a minute, then issued a curt nod. “Come on. This way.”

Piper glanced at Cade, who shrugged and gestured for her to follow. They walked past cage after cage, rounded a corner and spotted the biggest dog Piper had ever seen. Huge paws, huge brown head, huge amounts of slobber drooling from his mouth. Obviously, this was the dog no one wanted.

“This is Samson. Purebred Great Dane. A little over a year old. His owner passed away four months ago. No one in the family could keep a dog as big as Sammy, so they brought him here. He’s got a great disposition. Loves cats, kids and people in general.” The volunteer patted the door of the cage and the dog pressed his head against the metal, perhaps hoping for a scratch.

“Then why is he still here?”