Forever After (7 page)

“I’m really sorry about this,” he said.

After the fright the dog had given her, Meredith wanted to give him what for, but caution won out. Her goal was to live here in obscurity, not start a feud.

He studied her as he might a puzzle piece that wouldn’t
quite fit. He was undeniably handsome, his tousled dark hair lending him an untamed, hard-edged aura she might have found appealing back in her young and reckless college days. With that bronze skin and those strong, sharply cut features he could have Indian ancestry, she decided. The type of man portrayed in those “silk and savage” historical romances, where the towering, muscular half-breed captured a trembling white girl and made love to her in his tee-pee—and under the stars, and along streams, and in caves, and on horseback. In her pre-Dan days, Meredith had adored those stories.

These days, being overpowered and crushed in a steely embrace, kissed senseless, and then carried over a broad shoulder to a tee-pee ranked much lower on her list—three pages or so down—from getting a root canal without Novocaine.

She hauled in a deep breath, feeling oddly faint. As if the dog sensed her uneasiness, it whined. She glanced down into the saddest, most apologetic brown eyes she’d ever seen.
Lunacy
. Dogs were incapable of feeling regret.

“Mr. Masters, please don’t take this wrong. But this situation can’t continue. Your dog wouldn’t let me near my daughter. What if she’d been hurt and needed medical attention?” Hugging her waist more tightly, she made fists on the chenille of her robe. “I don’t want to be difficult. But if this happens again, I’ll have to file a complaint.”

“I realize that.” He bent to fondle his dog’s ear. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He’s always been protective of kids, sometimes to a fault, but not without reason.”

Meredith bit the inside of her cheek. The last time this dog misbehaved, he’d tried to make excuses. “Protective? Sammy doesn’t need protection. I’m her
mother
.”

Keeping a hold on the dog’s collar, he straightened. “I’m as baffled as you are.”

“You’re also trying to justify the dog’s behavior. It’s like excusing a lion for eating its trainer because the poor thing was having a bad hair day.”

“You’re not blameless, you know. It
was
your kid who
let the dog in here. And Goliath isn’t a man-eater. Your daughter’s still in once piece. Not a mark on her.”

His observation sizzled in the air between them like a high-voltage wire.

“Will you at least hear me out?” he asked.

“I’m listening,” she managed to say with frigid calmness.

“There’s something weird going on in this dog’s head.”

She nearly laughed. Only it was too awful to be funny. “Perhaps you should take him to a dog psychiatrist. I’m not up on my canine psychoanalysis.”

He narrowed one eye. That was it, just the narrowing of one eye. But it was all that was necessary. Six feet plus of furious male wasn’t high on Meredith’s list, either.

“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. It’s just—” She pried her fingers loose from the chenille to wave her hand. “This is my house. And I wake up to find
your
dog in my daughter’s bed. And then he nearly attacks me? It’s a bit difficult to be blasé.”

“I’m not asking that. Listening and trying to be rational would be nice, though.”

Meredith curled her toe over the rough edge of linoleum. Unclenching her teeth, she said, “Rational?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, then rubbed his hand over his face. “Okay, my turn. That was uncalled for.” His firm mouth quirked at one corner. “Can we start all over? I won’t take shots if you won’t.”

Meredith thought that sounded fair, which was, in and of itself, unprecedented in her dealings with men. “I’m willing. I don’t want this to be an adversarial situation.”

“That makes two of us. This is no ordinary dog. He’s a decorated hero. Police departments around the country pay a thousand bucks for one of his pups without batting an eye.
That’s
the kind of record he’s got. And now he could wind up dead over a stupid misunderstanding. Trust me, I’m as worried as you are.”

“Dead?” she echoed.

“What the hell else do you think will happen if you file
a complaint? He was a canine deputy, extensively trained. Dogs like that are dangerous if they turn mean.”

“My point, exactly,” she said drily.

He heaved a sigh. “This dog would never hurt a kid.”

“I realize you believe that, but—”

“I
know
that. I can’t count the times Goliath has gone on a domestic violence call with me, only to take off like a shot when we entered the house. I’d find him later, standing guard over the kids. In those situations, he always acted crazy, just like he did the other night. Sometimes he wouldn’t even let
me
get close—not until I called him off. He loves children, and when he acts this way, it’s because he believes something or someone is going to hurt them.”

Meredith could only stand there, staring at him.

“Look,” he said, raking a hand through his hair. “The dog’s acting crazy. I admit it. I’m only asking you to take a step back and help me figure out why. This is the second time he’s come down here and stood guard over your child. There has to be a reason, even if it’s not immediately apparent to either one of us.”

Meredith shifted her attention back to the dog and once again found herself impaled by those apologetic brown eyes.
Was
Goliath acting crazy? She recalled the night she’d first met Heath and how he’d tried to excuse the animal’s behavior. She had pegged him as certifiably nuts. She no longer felt so sure. Dogs
did
have a sixth sense, and both times that Goliath had behaved viciously, Sammy had been terrified.

Tonight the child had had a nightmare. She’d been panicky when Meredith first opened the door. Meredith couldn’t be certain what Sammy had been dreaming about, but she had a good idea. Had Goliath sensed the child’s terror, possibly even the cause of it, and reacted, warning Meredith away because he perceived she might be a threat? Incredible. Yet Heath Masters was implying exactly that, whether he realized it or not. And he knew nothing of Sammy’s history.

A dizzy feeling swept over her, and she clenched her
fists so tightly on the chenille that her knuckles ached. She couldn’t admit that the dog might have cause to feel protective. Keeping the past a secret was vital to their future.

“At the risk of sounding unfeeling, I really don’t care
why
your dog has been acting the way he has,” she said softly. “I’ll leave understanding him to you.”

Heath nodded. “I guess I can’t blame you for that.”

“By the same token, I’d hate to see him put to sleep. That’d be a shame. I just don’t want him here. To that end, I’m willing to cooperate with you in any way I can.”

She avoided looking at Goliath, who seemed to be trying to melt her heart.
Craziness
. Five minutes ago, she’d been afraid he might go for her jugular.

A charged silence fell over the room, the ticking of her kitchen clock the only sound. Finally, Masters said, “In the morning, I’ll call about getting a kennel built, and until it’s done, I’ll do my best to keep Goliath home. Do you feel comfortable with that?”

Meredith nearly pointed out that his best effort hadn’t proved to be effective so far, but her wig felt as if it were on crooked, she wore no mascara to darken her lashes, and her padded bra was in the bath. The quicker she got him out of here, the better.

“Your best is all I can ask,” she replied.

“If Goliath does get loose again, will you call me first? Instead of animal control?”

“I’ll certainly try, but I can’t make any guarantees. What if you’re not at home?”

“Whenever I’m gone, he’ll be locked up.” He thrust out a hand. “Shake on it?”

Meredith glanced uneasily at Goliath.

Heath chuckled. “He won’t bite you. It’s kids he’s protective of, not me.”

Meredith gingerly extended her arm. Heath Masters’ large hand engulfed hers, his palm warm and slightly rough, like fine sandpaper. With the tip of his forefinger, he traced the protrusion of her wrist bone, a twinkle creeping into his blue-gray eyes.

She was glad when he released her. Scrubbing his touch away on the nap of her robe, she led the way to the door, relieved that he still held the dog’s collar. She tried not to look at Goliath. Those soulful brown eyes were getting to her.

Holding the door wide, she said, “Well…good night, Sheriff Masters.”

“Heath. We are neighbors, Meredith. I hope we’ll become good friends.”

“That reminds me. I don’t recall giving you my name.”

He flashed her a slightly sheepish grin. “Yeah, well…” He shrugged. “That first night, I wanted to call you and mend fences, so I ran a check on your license plate.”

Meredith felt as if the floor had vanished from beneath her feet. Just like that, he’d wanted her name and gotten it? By running a license plate check?

“I see,” she finally managed to say. “Isn’t that an invasion of my privacy?”

“If your first, middle, and last names are state secrets, yeah, I guess so.”

Meredith didn’t miss the glint of curiosity that crept into his eyes. She looked quickly away, laughing nervously. “Not state secrets. It just tends to make you feel vulnerable. I prefer the traditional introduction. An exchange of names, shaking hands.”

“You’re right.” He turned loose of his dog to straighten and thrust out his hand. “My name’s Heath Ian Masters,” he said, his voice laced with teasing amusement. “I’m the guy with the crazy dog who lives up the road.”

She had endured one handshake. She wasn’t eager to experience another. But there he stood, waiting. She cast a wary glance at the dog then touched her fingertips to Heath’s work-hardened palm, hoping to get this over with quickly. No such luck.

How was it that he could touch only her hand, yet make her feel the heat all over? A tingling, radiating warmth that shot first to her shoulder, then did a U-turn to her belly.

“And you are?”

She blinked. “Oh…I’m Meredith Lynn Kenyon, the woman down the road who doesn’t
like
your crazy dog.”

He chuckled at that, then trailed his fingertip over her wrist bone again, slowly and lightly, as if he were committing the feel of her to memory.

“Or me, either, I’m afraid,” he observed huskily. He released his hold on her and turned to shoo his dog out the door ahead of him. “We’ll have to work on that. Seems to me a lady living alone should be on good terms with the one neighbor she’s got.”

Not if she had anything to say about it
, she thought a little frantically. This man threatened her peace of mind in more ways than one.

Heath was still standing on Meredith’s rickety porch when she turned off the outside light, leaving him in the moonlight that slanted under the sagging overhang. She had to know he was still out here. A grin settled on his mouth.

“Well, Goliath, you’ve really done it this time,” he said softly. “What in the hell were you thinking, huh?”

Goliath glanced at the closed door and whined.

“I don’t wanna hear it, blockhead.” Picking his way carefully, Heath moved down the rotten steps. When the dog didn’t follow, he snapped his fingers. “Damn it, Goliath, get your keister down here.”

Head hanging, the Rottweiler finally obeyed. Heath cut across the yard. At the road, he turned to look back. The floors in that house were a hazard. He couldn’t believe she’d set out flower pots to divert the foot traffic.
Damn
. Why didn’t she just hound Zeke Guntrum to death until the old fart repaired the place?

Somehow, Heath couldn’t feature Meredith doing that. He recalled the wariness in her eyes and the nervous way she’d hugged her waist in the kitchen. She wasn’t the type to stand toe-to-toe with a man. And Zeke would take advantage of it. The old man had a history of leasing this house, promising to make repairs, then pocketing the last
month’s rent and deposits when the snookered tenants left before the lease was up.

Heath hated to see a single woman with a kid get taken. He ran his gaze over the crumbling foundation and sagging porches, wondering if he shouldn’t call Zeke himself.

The thought brought him up short. This wasn’t his problem, and it sure as hell wasn’t his business. Meredith wouldn’t appreciate his interference. But, then, she probably wouldn’t be too pleased when she or Sammy fell through the floor, either.

He remembered how fragile her wrist bone had felt. If she went through that floor, she’d break an ankle or something. The lady wasn’t exactly sturdy. And if she got hurt, who’d play Good Samaritan? Yours truly, that’s who. He
was
her only neighbor. That gave him a vested interest. It wasn’t that he was attracted to her or anything. He was just anticipating trouble before it happened and trying to head it off at the pass.

Right. And if you believe that, next you’ll be investing in the Golden Gate Bridge
.

No wonder Goliath was so bent on coming here. There was something about Meredith and Sammy—he wasn’t sure what—that brought out protective instincts. Those big, wary eyes, maybe? Whatever it was, all it took was one look and you were sunk.

Sighing, he fixed his gaze on her sagging front porch again. It wouldn’t take much to fix the damned thing. An evening or two of work, max. Hell, give him three weeks, and he could have the whole place back up to snuff. He scanned the house from roof to foundation, a list of necessary materials taking shape in his mind. He hadn’t used all of his paid vacation in over four years. If he took off early every afternoon for the next two or three weeks, no one at the department would dare to bitch.

It wasn’t exactly the best timing, of course. Right now, he had career problems coming out his ears. On the other hand, though, what could he actually do about them? Worry? If the voters in this county disagreed with the way
he did things, then he wasn’t the man for the job because he wasn’t willing to change. Doing things his way—trying to save kids—was the driving force in his life and the only reason he’d ever entered law enforcement. That was who he was, what he was all about, and if it was taken away, the job would mean nothing.