Baby, Hold On

Rachel squinted, looking back and forth between Lacey and the dog. “Good luck with that. I’ll see you tomorrow for Nigel’s spa day.”

“See you then.” Lacey held out Chaz’s toy, which he happily took in his mouth, then she urged him forward.

When she’d first visited Sweetness, she’d fallen in love with the little town, though she’d had concerns it might not be able to support a dog grooming business. But when she’d spied the sign for Dr. Greenwood’s veterinary practice, she’d seen it as a good indication the pet population was growing. Doctor Greenwood had assured her the town needed her services and his news that a military dog training facility was under construction cinched her decision. As a New Yorker who’d witnessed the aftermath of 9/11, she had immense respect for service animals, especially rescue dogs and war dogs.

Judging from the number of flowers left regularly at the grave of Silky, a war dog buried in a hilltop cemetery outside of town, so did all the residents of Sweetness.

As she and Chaz made their way down the sidewalk, she greeted familiar faces and unfamiliar faces alike—everyone was friendly…it came from living in a place of one’s choosing, she supposed. Her eye traveled to the white water tower perched on a ridge above the town. It was the only original structure, and she found its presence comforting…and romantic. The Armstrong brothers themselves had used it as a canvas to graffiti messages of love to the women they’d dedicated themselves to.

Lacey sighed, wondering how it would feel to have a man so head over heels for her that he would make a public spectacle of himself.

A group of burly men emerged from the diner and headed her way. The men touched the bills of their hats and made room to let her and Chaz pass—she was still getting accustomed to Southern men’s manners. A couple of them flitted admiring glances over her bare legs and offered flirtatious smiles.

Lacey blushed. There was no shortage of men in Sweetness, to be sure…but no shortage of women, either, now that word had gotten out that a veritable army of eligible ex-military men were laboring away in the remote town. Yet Lacey couldn’t blame her lack of male companionship entirely on the stiff competition—while she had a way with four-legged beasts, she’d never quite mastered interacting with the two-legged variety.

Dogs were simple—feed them and love them, and they stuck around. But men…well, her mother had dedicated her life to the care and feeding of her father, and it hadn’t kept him home.

In a word, men made her nervous.

She gave the workers what she hoped was a coy smile in return, then pulled in Chaz’s leash and crossed the street to the building that housed several professional offices, including Dr. Greenwood’s practice. He occupied an expansive office on the first level that extended from the front of the building to the back, with access to a loading dock and wide doors to accommodate larger animals. Farming had once again taken root outside the town limits of Sweetness, and although Dr. Greenwood made “house” calls for livestock, he’d made allowances for the occasional oversize walk-in patient.

She pushed open the door to the lobby and allowed Chaz to scamper inside in front of her. The lobby was surprisingly empty, the “people” magazines nicely stacked (if a little chewed), with wide seats and couches to accommodate pets and owners together, if necessary. In lieu of plants, landscape murals adorned the walls. Hildie, Dr. Greenwood’s vet tech, walked toward them carrying her purse.

“Hi, Lacey. I was just on my way to lunch. I know Chaz has an appointment, but Dr. Greenwood is seeing a walk-in at the moment. Can you wait?”

“Sure,” Lacey said. “We’re early anyway.”

Hildie smiled. “Okay. See you later.” She reached down to give Chaz a scratch, then left with a wave, turning the out-to-lunch sign that meant patients and their owners were welcome to come in and wait until Dr. Greenwood and Hildie returned. Or if there was an emergency, everyone knew one or both could be found at Molly’s Diner across the street.

Lacey sat on the couch and reached for a magazine that looked interesting. Chaz explored the room, dragging his leash behind him. From a room down the hallway, a bark sounded and before Lacey could grab him, Chaz had bounded off to investigate.

“Chaz, no!”

But by the time she caught up to him, he had nudged open the door left ajar and run inside. Dr. Greenwood and another man swung their heads around in surprise. She had a fleeting impression that the dark-haired stranger was attractive…very attractive.

Chaz made a happy beeline for the large black Labrador retriever sitting on the floor. Lacey’s heart blipped with fear, afraid the little dog had picked the wrong playmate—even animals that were normally good-natured could bite or attack when they were ill.

But instead of pouncing, the unleashed black Lab scrambled backward, eyes rolling, and cowered in a corner. Chaz dropped his pink stuffed bone and climbed on the bigger dog, licking its face ardently even as the larger dog howled in protest.

Lacey dived for his leash. “I’m sorry, Dr. Greenwood—”

“It’s okay, Lacey—”

“Get your dog away from mine,” the other man cut in, his face stony.

Lacey flinched at his sharp tone, then scooped up Chaz and beat a hasty exit, smarting. The friendly little terrier had posed no danger to his much larger breed.

She retreated to a chair in the lobby, maintaining a firm grip on Chaz’s leash. Her heart went out to the cowering black Labrador who obviously had an overbearing master.

She lifted her chin. Maybe the stranger wasn’t so attractive after all.

Chapter Two

Mike Nichols opened his mouth to apologize to the young woman, but she was already gone. He sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry about that,” he said to Dr. Greenwood. “I didn’t mean to snap at the lady.”

“It’s my fault for leaving the door open,” Dr. Greenwood said, closing it. “Lacey is the local groomer. She brings her customers by sometimes if they’re due for a checkup. She meant no harm.”

Not his proudest moment, Mike acknowledged with a grunt.

In fact,” the doctor continued, “folks around here say she’s a bit of a dog whisperer.”

Mike gave a derisive laugh. “A dog whisperer? What the heck is that?”

The doctor shrugged. “She just has a way with canines. Calms them down.”

Mike frowned and nodded to his black Labrador. “Sheridan doesn’t need to be calmed down. Three months ago he was the best search and rescue dog I’d ever worked with. Now look at him. He has zero energy and acts as if he’s afraid of his own shadow.” Frustration ballooned in his chest as he watched the once-fierce dog hunker down on the floor, trembling.

Dr. Greenwood made a thoughtful noise as he glanced over Sheridan’s chart. “He seems to be healthy, but I’ll run a full battery of blood tests and review the scans, see if anything shows up. It might take a few days, though.”

“Sheridan and I will be in town for a few weeks. I’m putting him through a refresher course at the military dog training facility.”

The doctor frowned. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, at least until we know if there’s a physical problem.”

“I won’t overwork him. But he hasn’t been in the field in a while, and I think the discipline will be good for him. For now I’ll just put him through familiar exercises until he can take an advanced class.”

“You know your dog better than anyone,” Dr. Greenwood conceded. “How can I get in touch with you when the results of the tests come back?”

“I’m staying in one of the cabins on Clover Ridge. My cell number is on Sheridan’s paperwork.”

The doctor nodded, and the men shook hands.

“Sheridan, come,” Mike said.

At his dog’s hesitation, he bit the inside of his cheek.

“Sheridan, come.”

The dog pushed to his feet, slowly. Then he dipped his black head to pick up the pink stuffed bone the other dog had left behind and walked forward to allow Mike to hook a leash to his collar.

Mike’s mouth tightened at the sight of the toy. “Sheridan, drop it.”

But the dog only whined.

“It’s okay,” Dr. Greenwood offered. “Lacey makes them for her customers. He can keep it.”

Except Sheridan was an alpha dog—no pink toys allowed. “Sheridan, drop it.”