For Keeps Page 8

  Still, she couldn’t imagine T.J. actually mistreating her. At any rate, she was going to hang around this morning until she was one hundred percent comfortable leaving Amber.

  The door swung open and T.J. stood there, filling the doorway with his solid presence. His T-shirt today was blue, tucked into his trademark jeans. His clean, earthy scent brought to mind fantasies of a romp in the hay, his skin on hers. And those boots.

  She shook the image away as she met his gaze. “Morning, T.J.”

  “Merry.” He looked down at the dog beside her, his expression unreadable.

  “I have her things in the car, but I thought I’d bring her in first and let you guys get acquainted.”

  He nodded and stepped aside. A man of his word, even though he clearly wasn’t happy about it. And she couldn’t quite figure out why. He worshipped his horses, worked hands on with animals of all kind every day. Big, dirty farm animals. But dogs seemed to throw him off balance somehow, and it was more than having grown up with family dogs who didn’t come inside the house.

  “You’re sure she’s safe? No signs of aggression?” T.J. was staring at Amber, arms folded over his chest. Amber took one look at him and cowered behind Merry’s legs.

  “She’s as submissive as they come,” she answered.

  T.J. reached a hand toward the dog, and she turned away from him, tail tucked.

  First the dog at Dr. Johnson’s, and now Amber. What was it about T.J. that made dogs so uncomfortable? She’d seen him on his horse the day she’d come begging for a place in his camp. They were like one together, in perfect harmony.

  She studied T.J. for a moment, noticing his rigid stance and wary eyes. The repeated questions about aggression and biting.

  Holy shit. T. J. Jameson was afraid of dogs.

  She almost doubled over in laughter, except she was certain he wouldn’t appreciate her being in on his little secret.

  “Try sitting down,” she suggested. “Look away from her. Give her a chance to get comfortable and let her approach you.”

  As it was, he towered over Amber, and his tension frightened her. Dogs couldn’t truly smell fear, but they could sense it nonetheless. They were expert readers of body language, and a far better judge of character than most humans.

  T.J. walked into the living room and sat obediently in a leather recliner. Merry sat across from him on the couch, beckoning Amber to follow her. She crossed the living room and lay at Merry’s feet.

  “So,” she said, holding T.J.’s attention so that he’d stop staring at the dog, “she eats twice a day. I brought over a bag of food to get you started, with her portion size marked. I buy it at Dr. Johnson’s. I bet he’ll give you a discount when you need more.”

  He nodded. “And she’s fully housetrained?”

  “She hasn’t had a single accident in the week she’s been with me. She’s crate trained as well. I crate her when I’m leaving her alone in the house, to help her feel safe. You can crate her at night if you like, but I’ve been letting her sleep in a dog bed in my room, and she hasn’t gotten into any trouble.”

  He looked down at Amber, and she ducked her head behind Merry’s ankles. This was a problem. She couldn’t leave Amber here, feeling this uncomfortable around T.J.

  To distract anxious man and beast, she made idle chatter, asking him more about the camp and his farm. He slid easily into his comfort zone. His posture relaxed, and his tone turned confident as he outlined all the details of the camp. He told her about his horses, how each of them had been born and raised on his parents’ farm. His love and respect for them was unmistakable.

  And she found herself wanting to show him that same love for dogs. It wasn’t right for a man like T.J. to feel such discomfort, even fear, around them. She could fix it. She was certain of it.

  “Why don’t you come and sit next to me on the couch?” she suggested.

  “What?” His head went up.

  “For Amber. She’s scared of you. We need to show her that you’re a friend.”

  “Scared of me? Why?”

  “You’re a little intimidating to her. Come, sit.” She patted the couch beside her.

  T.J. stood and crossed the room. His body heat washed over her as he sat, keeping a careful distance between their bodies. She glanced up and lost herself in his whiskey eyes, his earthy scent, his dark hair tousled and spiky as if he’d run his fingers through it recently.

  “This better?” he asked, his voice soft.

  Much better. Her skin tingled with awareness at just how close he was and how much she wanted to get even closer. “Perfect,” she said.

  Amber watched them, her shoulder against Merry’s leg. Then she leaned forward and sniffed T.J.’s boot.

  “There’s no reason for her to be afraid.” He sounded bewildered. “I may not be crazy about having her here, but I’d never mistreat an animal.”

  “I know that, or I wouldn’t have brought her here.” Merry leaned down and stroked the dog under her chin. Amber’s tail gave one shy thump against the hardwood floor. “Right, Amber? T.J.’s going to take good care of you.”

  She reached over and placed her right hand on his thigh to illustrate her point to the dog. T.J. was okay. He was a friend.

  His well-worn jeans were soft beneath her fingers, and the warmth of his leg seeped through them onto her skin. He was all hard muscle beneath that layer of denim, and holy shit, she really should have thought this through.

  She really should have touched his arm. His shoulder. Maybe just his boot.

  Her hand was dangerously close to other, potentially hard, parts of his anatomy, and by the fiery look in his eyes, he was just as aware of it as she was. Good gracious.

  Resisting the urge to slide her hand a few inches north, she tore her gaze from T.J.’s and focused on the dog at her feet. “See, Amber? He’s not so scary now, is he?”

  “Scary’s not the word I would use.” T.J.’s voice was deeper, rougher, and holy mother of God, he sounded sexy.

  She needed to take her hand off his leg. Now.

  Amber crept forward and sniffed his hand. He gave her a little stroke under the chin, and she licked his palm.

  Okay then. Merry yanked her hand to safety, but it was too late to extinguish the sexual tension crackling in the air.

  * * *

  T.J. stared at the dog at his feet, then shifted his gaze to the woman at his side. “Anything else I need to know?”

  He was pretty confident he could take it from here, but he needed to keep her talking, because if he stood up right now, it was going to be embarrassing for both of them. He shifted his weight on the couch, adding a few much-needed inches between them.

  “You can give her back to me at any point during the camp, no questions asked. It won’t affect the rest of our deal.”

  “Well, that’s downright considerate of you.” He forced himself to look away from those bottomless hazel eyes, or he was never going to be able to get off the couch.

  “I have my moments.” She drummed her fingers on her thighs and stared at Amber. “I only want what’s best for the dogs, you know.”

  “I know.” He was getting that, loud and clear. And he respected it. He might not even hate having the dog here for a few weeks.

  Amber seemed pretty harmless and well behaved. Besides, having her in his house gave T.J. extra time to get to know her and make sure she was trustworthy to be around Noah. He reached down and petted Amber, relieved when her tail swished against the floor, which also provided the distraction he needed from the vixen at his side.

  Grateful, he stood. Amber stepped closer and sniffed his hand.

  “She’s starting to like you,” Merry said as she pushed to her feet. “Why don’t we take a little walk outside before I leave? You can walk her. Show me around the farm.”

  “Sure.” He appreciated that she was taking the time to get him and Amber comfortable with each other before she left, although he suspected it was more for the dog’s benefit than his. He
took the leash she held toward him, and Amber moved obediently to his side.

  Pretty hard to hate a dog so well behaved. Surely Amber wasn’t going to tear his throat out, but then again, just a week ago she’d been a stray. Her behavior might be unpredictable.

  Amber walked beside him as he led Merry out the front door and down to the barn. He expected she’d panic when she saw the horses, much like the shrink’s dog had. Even Ralph had been frightened at first. He tightened his grip on the leash. Amber lifted her head and stared.

  All three horses hung their heads over the fence and stared right back.

  “Easy, Amber,” Merry said, edging closer, clearly fearing the same outcome.

  But the dog’s ears pricked, and she began to jog, tugging T.J. toward the pasture. She marched right up to Twilight and sniffed noses with her, tail wagging.

  “Whoa,” Merry said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say Amber was a farm dog in her former life. See that?”

  Yeah, he saw it. The dog loved horses, no doubt about it.

  “I knew there was a reason I brought her to you. She’s going to be so happy here.” Merry sighed with contentment, resting her elbows on the fence.

  T.J.’s gaze slid down to her ass, nicely displayed in a pair of jean cutoffs. And hell, her legs. Miles of smooth skin.

  He squeezed his eyes shut. He really needed to get control of himself. He had to work with this woman five days a week for the next month, and it was going to be torture if he kept lusting after her this way.

  There was no way he was getting involved with a bossy, troublemaking girly-girl, and that’s all there was to it. He’d recently hit thirty, and it was more important than ever to look for a woman he wanted to spend his life with, a woman who wanted to live here with him, start a family, maybe get a few more horses.

  Merry Atwater had heartbreak written all over her, from her red-painted fingernails to her purple, jewel-crusted flip-flops.

  She stroked Twilight’s forehead, and the mare thrust her face against her, eager for a good rubdown. Merry touched her reverently, as if she’d long wanted the chance to do just that. She reached up and scratched around Twilight’s ears, and the mare head-bobbed her approval.

  Watching Merry bond with his horse was doing nothing to ease his attraction to her. Just the opposite. He had to bite his tongue to keep from suggesting they take Tango and Twilight out for a ride. Damn stupid idea that would be.

  While Merry rubbed Twilight, Amber stuck her head through the fence and made friends with Peaches, the little mare Noah rode.

  Merry turned to him, her eyes soft and warm. “Looks like she’s going to be right at home here, doesn’t it?”

  She smiled, and he felt it deep in his gut. Yep, it looked like both of them would be.

  * * *

  Merry woke Sunday morning to the buzzing of her alarm. Outside, the sky was still black. She smashed her face into the pillow, then reached for the bedside lamp and flipped the switch.

  Sunday morning meant back to work. It was always a brutal adjustment after four days off, though truly she wouldn’t change her schedule for anything. It suited her lifestyle perfectly.

  Ralph, Chip, and Salsa wiggled closer, flopping against her for morning snuggles. Idly, she wondered how Amber was doing on her first morning with T.J. She briefly pictured them snuggled up in bed together, then giggled into her pillow.

  Probably Amber had slept in her crate. Which was fine.

  He’d promised to call if there were any problems, and he hadn’t, so she assumed all was well. He might act tough, but he’d take good care of Amber. She’d seen enough of his heart to feel sure of it.

  The next hour passed in a blur as she walked the dogs, showered, ate breakfast, and headed to Dogwood Hospital for her shift starting at seven. Sunday mornings were always a bit of a surprise, as many of her patients would have been discharged in the four days since she last saw them.

  This morning, only one familiar face remained. Baby Jayden, still in heroin withdrawal. The baby would likely be in her care for weeks as they weaned him from his drug dependency, and that was assuming there were no complications in his recovery.

  Merry stood in his room, hands pressed into the pockets of her scrubs. Sweet Jesus, he ripped at her heart in all the most vulnerable places. She reached out to touch him, and he looked up at her with big, brown eyes.

  “Hey there.” She smiled at him, aching to lift him up and hold him close. Instead, she busied herself checking his vitals. His withdrawal score this morning was a ten, a slight improvement over his scores from last week.

  The door behind her opened, and Lavinia Thomas, his foster mom, stepped inside. She wore a cream-colored business suit that complemented her dark skin.

  “Hey,” she said as she joined Merry at Jayden’s crib. “I just stopped in to spend a little while with him before work. How is he this morning?”

  “About the same. He cried a lot overnight, but this time of morning seems to be his sweet time.”

  “Aww, my poor angel.” Lavinia scooped him into her arms and cradled him against her chest. “Breaks my heart I can’t take him home with me.”

  Merry swallowed over the lump in her throat. “He’s responding well to the methadone. Hopefully he’ll be home with you guys by the end of the month.”

  “Hear that, Jayden?” Lavinia adjusted the wires protruding from the infant’s swaddle blanket and sat with him in the rocker. She rocked briskly back and forth, and his eyes soon began to droop.

  “I’ll check back in an hour or so. Will you still be here?” Merry asked.

  “Probably not. I’ll stop by the nurses’ station on my way out.”

  Merry nodded, then slipped into the hall. Tears burned behind her eyes. What the hell? Jayden would be fine. His suffering was only temporary. He would go home with Lavinia and her husband, to be loved and cared for until… until what?

  Until his junkie mother passed a urine test and asked for him back?

  Merry knew as well as anyone that life didn’t always deal a fair hand when it came to parents. But she’d turned out okay, so hopefully Jayden would too.

  Morning became afternoon. She handled one discharge and two new intakes, and through it all, Jayden screamed as his poor little body was wracked with the pain of withdrawal.

  Something no infant should have to endure. She saw so much pain, so much suffering on a daily basis. It really tore her up to see a baby suffer from something so totally preventable, his pain one hundred percent caused by his mother’s poor decisions.

  Just past five o’clock, she went in to check on him. Jessie, her aide, had fed him a little while ago and said he’d finally fallen asleep. It was quiet inside his room but for the steady beeping of his heart monitor.

  She bent over the crib to check his readouts. He lay with his eyes open, staring up at her.

  “Oh, hey, sweetie.” Merry reached down to stroke his cheek.

  He twitched.

  “I’m just checking in to see how you’re doing.” She kept her tone soft and soothing.

  Jayden’s face twitched again.

  And again.

  She stilled, watching him more closely. That wasn’t a facial twitch.

  Jayden was having a seizure.

  * * *

  Merry didn’t get off shift that night until eight, and she shuffled home, exhausted. Jayden’s seizure had been heartbreaking to watch. A newborn seizure was much more subtle than older children or adults, but just as serious. Now he faced yet another hurdle in his recovery, another setback to overcome before he could go home.

  She gathered Ralph in her arms and hugged him until the pain in her chest eased.

  T.J.’s camp started tomorrow, but she hadn’t been able to find anyone to cover her on such short notice, so she and her dogs wouldn’t be joining Camp Blue Sky until Tuesday. The camp was four weeks long, running through mid-July. For the duration, she would work a half shift at the hospital on Mondays and Tuesdays, using vacation time t
o cover the difference. The rest of the week was her off time anyway.

  That night, she ate, fed and walked her dogs, and fell into bed by nine thirty, bone tired and dead to the world. She’d slept restlessly the night before and needed a good night’s sleep to power her way through tomorrow’s twelve-hour shift.

  She barely felt her head hit the pillow.

  Her cell phone jolted her awake sometime later, singing happily from the bedside table.

  She swore under her breath as she squinted at the clock. Eleven fifty-five.

  Someone better have died to wake her up on a work night. She didn’t recognize the number on the screen, but it was a local Dogwood exchange.

  “Hello,” she answered, her voice scratchy.

  “Merry, it’s T.J.”

  “T.J.?” Her half-asleep brain formed an image of him lying in bed, wearing nothing but his boxers, phone in hand. She smiled against her pillow.

  “Amber’s escaped. She ran into the woods behind my house, and I can’t find her.”

  And just like that, she was wide awake.

  * * *

  T.J. felt completely incompetent, having to call Merry and tell her he’d lost her dog. She stood in his living room now, her hair a wild halo of curls, her face free of makeup, eyes still slightly unfocused after being jolted from sleep by his call.

  She had on gray yoga pants and a pink tank top, braless, if the nipples pointing in his direction were any indication. So damn sexy he was getting a hard-on just looking at her.

  “How long ago did she run off?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest as if perhaps she’d just realized her lack of undergarments.

  “ ’Bout an hour. I looked for her for a little while before I called you.”

  She nodded briskly, all business despite her sleep-rumpled appearance. “Okay. That’s not long, she may still be nearby. Do you have a flashlight? What about hot dogs or something else really yummy and smelly? I brought dog cookies, but a hot dog would be better.”

  “I’ve got leftover fried chicken. And a flashlight.”

  “Perfect. Bring that. Is she wearing her collar?”

  “No.” He met her eyes, still waiting for the inevitable lecture for losing Amber, but so far she’d been very matter-of-fact. “She slipped out of it when I took her for a walk before bed.”