Читать книгу The Thanksgiving Target - Laura Scott, Laura Scott - Страница 9

Her jaw dropped, and she gaped at him in surprise. While she appreciated his gallantry, his protection wasn’t necessary. There was no reason for her to spend any more time with him. Besides, he needed to stick close to the hospital for Melissa. “I thought you wanted to stay in one of the hotels nearby? There’s no need to go out of your way.”

“I’ll find a hotel room on the way back. There’s no rush.” He frowned, and his voice grew soft and slightly grim as he added, “Lissa’s not going anywhere. As you said earlier, she’s in good hands.”

Biting her lip, she pondered her choices. If she simply gave in and took a cab, she knew the lieutenant would step back and go about his own business. If she stubbornly took the bus, she had no doubt he’d ride along with her.

Trying to hide a shiver, she turned away, reaching into her purse to subtly check her pocketbook. She hadn’t spent any money on lunch, having packed some leftovers from home, but she had filled up her gas tank earlier in the week. She didn’t think there was much cash left and verified the dismal amount rather quickly. With a sigh, she closed her purse with a quiet snap.

There was no choice but to strengthen her resolve and take the bus home. Borrowing money from the stranger would be much worse than enduring a protective shadow on her ride. If the lieutenant wanted to ride the bus she couldn’t stop him. Besides, she didn’t have the energy to fight.

A heavy fabric dropped over her shoulders, carrying the enticing, musky scent of man. Startled, she glanced up at Max, who was straightening the camouflage jacket over her shoulders.

“You were shivering,” he stated in a matter-of-fact tone, dropping his hands and refastening his duffel bag. “And I appreciate your help in lightening my load.”

She wanted to smile at how he’d tried to make her believe she was really the one helping him, but sudden tears pricked her eyes. When was the last time anyone had noticed if she was tired, hungry or cold? Ridiculous to so grateful for a chivalrous gesture, and she swiped the moisture away with an impatient hand trying to pull herself together.

“Thank you, but I really wish you wouldn’t do this,” she told him. “I hate taking you out of your way.”

In that instant, the bus lumbered up to the stop. With a sigh, she took her place behind the man who’d been smoking, grimacing a bit when he tossed his cigarette butt directly in front of her before he boarded the bus. There weren’t many occupants at this time of the night, and most of them were men. One passenger wore a baseball cap backward on his head, but he looked too young to be the man she’d seen following her.

She slipped into an empty pair of seats taking the one closest to the window, not at all surprised when Max chose the seat right next to her. His broad shoulders brushed lightly against hers, and she found she was grateful for his reassuringly protective presence.

Safe. For the first time in three weeks, her underlying sense of fear melted away. If anyone was following her, he’d certainly think twice about approaching her now.

And for that small favor, she owed Lieutenant Forrester a huge debt of gratitude.

Max tried to ignore the rumbling in his stomach and slid a sideways glance at Ms. Carmichael, hoping she hadn’t heard the betraying sound.

He’d stop for something to eat after he’d seen her home.

Just then, her stomach let out a low gurgle, a grumbling sound that was even louder than his.

She blushed and let out a small chuckle. “Sorry, I guess I’m hungry. I skipped dinner.”

Max stared at her, realizing with a start how pretty she was. Her cheekbones were high, her skin translucent. In his anxiety over Lissa he hadn’t really noticed her mesmerizing blue eyes. Not that he had time to think about a pretty woman, especially since he needed to get back to the hospital to see Lissa. Even taking this much time away bothered him, but he couldn’t ignore Tara’s plight, either. Besides, he planned to be there for his sister, offering strength and support for the duration of his leave.

He didn’t want to think about what would happen once he returned to Iraq.

This wasn’t the time to worry about the future. Right now he was hungry. He’d already figured out that Tara didn’t have much money, especially when she’d subtly checked her purse for cab money.

They were both hungry and needed to eat.

“I haven’t eaten in several hours myself. I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but seeing as this is my first night on American soil in three years, would you do me the honor of allowing me to buy you dinner?” He couldn’t help but produce a wistful smile. Did she have any idea how much he’d looked forward to his first American meal? The food they’d given them on the plane hadn’t counted, since he could barely recognize what it was. “It’s no fun eating alone.”

“That’s a kind offer, but…” Her voice trailed off, and he noticed she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. He was mentally prepared for her refusal when all of a sudden she abruptly nodded. “You’re right. It’s no fun eating alone. You’ve come a long way home, Lieutenant, after dutifully serving our country. I’d be happy to share dinner with you.”

“Really?” He couldn’t hide his surprise. Maybe she was simply taking pity on a lonely soldier, but he wasn’t going to argue. He was thrilled she’d agreed to accompany him. He’d hoped to eat with Lissa, but this was almost just as nice. “Great. Is there someplace we can go that’s close to your home? The only restaurant I’m familiar with is the one where Lissa works as a waitress.”

Tara tilted her head, regarding him thoughtfully. “I know where your sister works. It’s not far from Maplewood, where I live. And I happen to know they serve meals late, including breakfast if you’re in the mood.”

“Breakfast would be great, but I think I’m going to have a large juicy American burger slathered with the works,” he mused. A glance out the window confirmed they were close to the restaurant. “Let’s get off here then, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” She stood, clutching his camouflage jacket closer to her shoulders. He was glad she’d stopped shivering. Taking a step back, he gestured for her to move out in front of him.

The walk to the restaurant from the bus stop didn’t take long. Tara glanced at his duffel, as if worried it might be too heavy for him to lug around, which made him smile. He’d hauled his own gear over many a mile before, riding around the city in the comfort of a bus didn’t even come close to being a burden.

They took opposite seats at a booth. He opened the menu, marveling at the selection, but in the end, he didn’t change his mind about what he wanted. Tara ordered a chicken breast sandwich, and once the waiter left, he took a healthy gulp of his water, enjoying the icy smoothness against his parched throat.

Even the water tasted good.

“Lieutenant, tell me, how long will you be staying in St. Louis?” Tara asked.

“Please, call me Max. I’m home for just a twenty-day leave, but my tour of duty ends in another year. After that, I’ll have to decide whether I’ll reenlist or go back to the private sector.” Not that he had any clue as to what he’d do once he was out. The army had quickly become his life, and his men had become his brothers. He’d lost his best friend, who had died in his arms shortly after their deployment to Iraq, but even that tragedy couldn’t break the bonds he had with the rest of his men.

But his sister obviously needed him, too. More than he’d realized.

“Reenlist?” Tara’s big blue eyes widened. “I’m surprised you’re even considering another tour of duty. You’ve put in your time in Iraq, haven’t you?”

“Yes.” He finished his water and placed the empty glass toward the edge of the table, hoping someone would refill it for him. “But there is still a lot of work to be done there. To be honest, my decision was going to depend on Lissa.” His mouth tightened as he thought of his sister.

“Have you called the police officer assigned to her case yet?” she asked.

Max nodded. “I left him a message. I guess he works the day shift.”

“I’m really glad you’re here for Melissa,” Tara admitted, sitting back in her seat with a sigh. “And I’m relieved to know the police are involved. Gary needs to be arrested for what he’s done, and this time, I don’t think Melissa will be able to protect him.”

He scowled, wondering again why Lissa had even gotten mixed up with someone who’d hurt her. He simply couldn’t understand it. He and Lissa had been raised Christian, but maybe Lissa had fallen away from the church, just like he had. Losing Keith had made it impossible to maintain his faith. What had caused Lissa to lose hers? He shook off the depressing thoughts. “I’ll take care of her, don’t worry. I’ll move in with her and refuse to leave until he’s safe behind bars.”

She laughed, a light musical sound that tightened his stomach in awareness. “Sounds like a great plan to me.”

Their food arrived promptly, diverting his attention from Tara. His mouth literally watered at the wonderful scent of his burger and fries, and he hoped he wasn’t being too much of a pig as he heartily dug in to his meal.

Tara didn’t seem to mind. She was enjoying her grilled chicken just as much. “This is delicious. Thanks for inviting me,” she said between bites.

He knew he was the lucky one, sharing this meal with her. He wanted to savor the food and the time with Tara, drawing them out for as long as possible. But she was nearly finished, so he polished off the rest of his burger quickly.

“Are you up for dessert?” he asked hopefully.

She shook her head with an amused grimace. “Sorry, nothing for me, thanks. I need to get home. My poor dog is going to be sitting at the door wondering where I am.”

He understood she didn’t want to linger and signaled for the waiter to bring the bill. “What kind of dog do you have?”

“A cute little Westie. A West Highland white terrier,” she clarified at his puzzled look. “His name is Beau. I rescued him from the local shelter a couple years ago.”

“Well then, let’s not keep Beau waiting, especially if he’s been home alone all day.” He paid for the meal with cash, and thinking of Melissa living off her tips, he left a hefty sum.

“Well, I do have a neighbor lady, Mrs. Henderson, who comes over to let him out at lunchtime for me. She has a key and lets him out in the early evening too if I’m working late,” Tara said over her shoulder as they left the restaurant.

“Which way to your house?” he asked, feeling much better with food in his belly. Now if only Lissa would get well, he’d be happy. Or at least content. Was it selfish of him to want her home from the hospital in time for Thanksgiving? Maybe. “Should we walk, or do we need to catch another bus?”

“We can walk. It’s only about six or seven blocks from here.” She headed off in the opposite direction from where Lissa’s apartment building was located. She stopped and glanced at him. “If you’d rather head back to the hospital, I’d certainly understand.”

“Ma’am, it might be only six or seven blocks but it’s ten-thirty at night. I’ll walk you home. There’s no way in the world I’m leaving you alone at this hour.”

“If you want me to call you Max, then you should probably stop calling me ma’am,” she pointed out, as they headed down the street. “You’re making me feel old.”

“Old?” he chuckled, a rusty sound even to his own ears. “You’re young, probably the same age as my sister.”

She arched a brow at him. “I’m a couple years older than Melissa,” she corrected in a prim tone.

“Still very young.” Especially when lately he’d felt as if he were a hundred years old. Maybe in part because he’d seen things no man should have to endure. Despite the hardships, he firmly believed freedom was worth the effort.

Tara set a brisk pace, and he wasn’t sure it was because she was cold or because she was anxious to get rid of him. He couldn’t blame her if she felt uncomfortable being in the dark alone with him. After they walked several blocks she lifted her hand and pointed. “My house is over there, the third one from the corner.”

“The little red brick house with the white trim and black shutters?” he asked.

“Yes.” As they approached, she frowned. “I wonder why Beau isn’t barking his head off by now. Usually he hears me coming long before this.”

An icy chill snaked down his spine, and he grasped her arm. “Tara, wait. Maybe I should go up first.”

Tuning in to his abrupt wariness, she sucked in a quick breath. “Why? You think something happened to Beau?”

He couldn’t explain his trepidation, and he held on to her arm, bringing her to a halt. “Give me your key,” he commanded.

She handed it over, and he swept a glance over the area, making sure no one was lurking around.

He put the key in the lock and turned the doorknob, slowly pushing the door open. The house was eerily silent. From where he stood outside, he stretched until he could slide his hand over the inside wall of her foyer, seeking the light switch.

“Stay here.” The area flooded with light, and he wasn’t sure if it was a good sign or a bad sign that the dog wasn’t lying there on the floor directly in front of the door.

“No way. I’m coming with you.”

He wanted to argue, but then he heard it—a little whimper of sound.

“Beau?” Tara must have heard it, too, and she pushed past him, rushing down the hall into the kitchen, with blatant disregard of her own safety.

“Wait!” He grit his teeth with anger and followed, intent on keeping her out of harm’s way.

“Oh, no. Beau!”

When he rounded the corner, he saw what had caused her cry of distress. Beau was lying on his side—obviously sick, unable lift his white, fluffy head off the floor.

“Beau?” Feeling helpless, he watched Tara anxiously kneel beside her dog, gently gathering his limp body into her arms. She cradled him against her chest, nuzzling his head with her face as she stood. “What happened? Are you sick?”

“Here, let me take a look at him.”

She obviously didn’t want to let Beau go, so Max simply placed his large palm over the dog’s chest to check his pulse, relieved to feel the thready, irregular beat. “I think we need to get him to a vet as soon as possible.”

“The emergency clinic isn’t far.” Tara took a step toward the door but then stopped, her expression stricken. “I don’t have my car.”

No car. And a ride on the bus would take too long, if they even allowed a dog on the city bus. He quickly considered their options. “Does Mrs. Henderson have a car?”

“Yes.” Tara looked relieved and instantly rushed outside, headed straight for the house to the right, a robin’s egg–blue Cape Cod. She lifted her hand and pounded on the door.

After what seemed like a long time, the door was opened by a squat, round woman wearing thick glasses and a bright purple fuzzy robe. “Tara? What is it?”

“Beau is sick. My car has a flat tire, so will you let me borrow yours to take him to the vet?” Tara spoke loudly, making Max suspect Mrs. Henderson didn’t hear too well, and clutched the dog close to her breast as if it were her child. Max understood Beau was important to her. “Please? I promise to bring it back soon.”

“Sure, but what happened?” The woman opened her door and gestured for them to come in. “Beau was fine when I let him out about an hour ago.”

“I don’t know. Maybe he ate something that made him sick.” Tara looked impatient, and Mrs. Henderson must have noticed because she hurried over to her purse and dug out her car keys. Tara snatched them from her grasp. “Thank you so much. I’ll reimburse you for the gas.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just take good care of Beau.” The woman’s expression was one of concern.

Tara nodded. He reached over and took the keys from her. “Why don’t you let me drive?”

She didn’t argue and hurried out to the garage to Mrs. Henderson’s large, ancient green Buick. He closed the passenger door behind her and then hustled around to the driver’s side. He backed carefully out of the driveway. “Which way?”

“To the right, then left at the corner.” Tara gave him directions, dividing her attention between the road and her dog.

Her love and worry for her pet was obvious. He assumed she lived in the house alone with only Beau as a companion. The news that Tara might not have a man in her life made him secretly relieved; yet he knew it shouldn’t matter. Not when her dog was sick and his sister barely clung to her life in the ICU.

This wasn’t the time to think about the pretty social worker on a personal level. Hadn’t he learned his lesson before? He’d discovered the hard way that gratitude wasn’t the path to finding love and commitment. Besides, his future wasn’t his own; he’d be back in Iraq before long. He pushed the inappropriate thoughts of Tara away and centered his attention on the road.

“There, on the right. That’s the emergency vet.”

He saw the building she indicated and pulled into the driveway. He’d barely pulled the Buick to a stop when she jumped out of the car.

“Wait,” he called, but she disappeared behind the glass doors without a backward glance. He sat there, wondering why he was here at the vet when he should be at the hospital sitting beside Lissa. His sister should be his highest priority.

Yet he couldn’t simply abandon Tara. Not until he knew her dog was okay. She’d supported Lissa at the hospital, had tried to help his sister in the past, too. Tara deserved at least a little support.

Besides, he’d left his duffel bag on the floor of her foyer, so he’d have to go back there anyway. Rubbing the exhaustion from his face, he turned off the car and walked into the building.

Tara and Beau were already in the back, seeing the vet. Watching them in deep conversation made him hesitate, but then he decided he’d barged into her life this much, he may as well go for broke. He approached the desk. “I’m with Tara and her dog, Beau.”

“Oh, sure. Come on back.” The secretary/receptionist buzzed him through, and he found Tara, her blue eyes luminous with tears.

“I don’t understand how this could have happened,” she was saying in a low husky tone. “My neighbor Mrs. Henderson lets him outside for me, but she wouldn’t hurt him. And I don’t think she takes him out of the area between our yards. Are you sure he couldn’t have simply eaten something bad? Something poisonous to dogs?”

“I’m sure.” The vet was an older man with a kind, gentle expression. “Leave him with me, and I’ll have him fixed up just fine in a few days. You can call to check on him anytime.”

Tara didn’t say anything for several long minutes but then swiped more tears from her face as she nodded. “All right. Please take good care of him for me.”

“I will,” the vet promised.

She turned and nearly stumbled into him. Max lightly grasped her shoulders, holding her steady. “Tara? What is it? What happened to Beau?”

“He was given some sort of sedative,” she whispered, her voice strained to the point of nearly breaking. “The vet believes someone drugged him on purpose.”