Danger at Her Door

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“Megan, I…” He fumbled for a place to start. “I’m sorry for the way I—”

The harsh trill of the phone beside Caitlyn’s bed interrupted him, breaking the spell that had held her gaze on his for the past few electric moments.

He expelled a disappointed breath through pursed lips as he snatched up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Jack? It’s me.” Caitlyn’s mother sounded distracted, hurried. “Why is Caitlyn in the hospital?”

Jack wanted to believe the inflection in his ex-wife’s voice reflected concern for her daughter, but all he could honestly identify was surprise, inconvenience. He absorbed Lauren’s tepid reception of the news about Caitlyn like a prize fighter’s punch in the gut. He rubbed the back of his stiff neck and wondered how he could have so totally misjudged the woman he’d once married.

Had he missed the signs of her fickleness? Had he ignored clues that she could selfishly cast her child and marriage aside, claiming she needed her freedom?

“Jack? Jack, are you there?”

He sighed and pushed his troubling thoughts out of his mind for another time. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“So what happened?” Lauren asked in a tone that she might have used to discuss the weather.

What happened? Not “how is she?” Not “can I come?” But what happened? Jack squeezed the receiver tighter. He wanted to throw the question back. What happened, Lauren? What happened to us?

“She was bitten by a dog.” He glanced up at Megan, who was clearly trying to give him at least the impression of privacy for his call. Her attention was now focused on Caitlyn as his daughter drifted back to sleep.

“Is that all? You called me about some little dog bite?” Lauren’s impatient tone called his attention back to the phone.

Flexing his fingers then balling his hand in a fist, Jack counted to ten before he answered. “She has twenty-seven stitches and a broken arm.”

“So why is she in the hospital, for heaven’s sake? I’ve never heard of hospitalizing someone for a broken arm.”

“Because she lost a lot of blood and went into shock. She’s better now and resting, but I thought you should know about it…in case you wanted to come—”

He heard Lauren sigh. “Jack, I’m leaving for London in the morning. I can’t just drop everything whenever Caitlyn skins her knee.”

Because he was already edgy from the afternoon’s events, Lauren’s dismissal of her daughter lit Jack’s temper. “This is a little more serious than a skinned knee, Lauren! You’re her mother, for God sake. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” His tone could have frozen the phone lines all the way to Lauren’s apartment in Texas.

He should have known this conversation would go sour, should have waited until Megan wasn’t around to overhear.

“Of course it means something, Jack! But like I’ve told you for months, I wasn’t cut out to be Betty Homemaker. It’s not me. I’m not mother material and don’t want to try.”

“You should have thought of that before we had a daughter, Lauren.”

He should have known better than to get into this argument with his ex again, but her blasé dismissal of her child grated, especially now.

“If Caitlyn is too much for you to handle then my parents—”

Jack bristled. “Never. I love my daughter, and I will do whatever it takes to care for her. Alone. Tell your parents I will not give them custody of Caity. Ever. Sorry to have bothered you with your daughter’s trauma. I won’t make that mistake again.” He wished he could slam down the receiver to make his point. Instead, the disconnect button gave an unsatisfactory blip when he jabbed it.

His pulse throbbed at his temple, and he clenched his teeth until his jaw hurt. He stared at the floor, seething, until a gentle voice reminded him he wasn’t alone.

“Maybe I should leave.”

He jerked his head up and met a sympathetic green gaze. He pinched the bridge of his nose and released a harsh breath of frustration. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“She’s not coming, is she?” The sad, perplexed tone of Megan’s voice stood in such stark contrast to Lauren’s indifference that it caught Jack off guard for a moment. Made him ache all over for his motherless daughter. He needed to scream, to punch something. Instead, he cracked his knuckles and held Megan’s compassionate gaze.

“No.”

She licked her lips again and turned her eyes toward Caitlyn. A profound grief and disbelief filled their depths. Lifting her chin, she faced him once more. “I want to help, Jack. Please.”

He pushed to his feet and paced restlessly across the room. “Thanks, but no. I’ll manage.”

“You don’t have to just manage. Let me help. I can bring you some dinner or sit with Caitlyn. Do you have something you need to do for work?”

“Nothing as important as my daughter. It’ll have to keep.” Jack slid his hand over his face, thinking of the unfinished article still glowing on his laptop screen at his house.

His laptop.

“Unless…” He pivoted to face Megan, who was straightening Caitlyn’s covers.

Megan glanced up. “Yeah?”

“Would you bring me my laptop? It’s on my kitchen table. I was working on an article when I heard Caity scream and…”

“Oh, uh…sure.” Megan’s face brightened, clearly glad to be able to do something to help.

He dug in his pocket for his house keys. “Thank you. I appreciate this more than you can know.”

She waved him off. “Forget it. Glad I can help.”

“You’ll need to save the file before you close it and bring the extra battery from the black case beside the chair.”

She nodded and smiled. “Right. Back in a jiffy.”

“Megan?”

She stopped at the door and looked over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I was an ass this afternoon, screaming at you about your dog. Accusing him of…”

When he let his sentence trail off, she lifted a corner of her mouth. “Apology accepted. I admit the evidence was pretty damning. But I know Sam. I know his nature and his training. He’d never hurt Caitlyn. I swear.”

“So it seems.” Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and jangled the coins there. “I also apparently owe you a debt of gratitude. If he, in fact, chased some other dog away…”

He hesitated. Care for some salt on your crow?

Megan’s smile brightened a bit. “I’ll pass your thanks on to Sam. He definitely gets an extra Snausage tonight.”

Jack gave her a lopsided grin and stroked a hand along his chin. “Tell him he’s got a whole box of dog treats coming from Caitlyn’s dad.”

She nodded and ducked her chin, glancing shyly to her feet. “I’m just glad Caitlyn will be okay. I was so scared for her….”

Megan sighed and looked over at his daughter, who was resting peacefully in the bed. The tender expression Megan wore as she watched Caitlyn sleep twisted inside Jack. In the past week, this woman had shown more loving concern for his daughter than Lauren had in the past year. That alone was enough to get Jack’s attention, even before he factored in his neighbor’s kindness and sense of humor or her sexy lips and heavenly curves.

“So…” He paused and cleared his throat. “Are we…okay?”

Megan shifted her gaze to him. Her lips parted as if to speak, but she hesitated.

“Give me a second chance, Megan. I’m really not such a belligerent oaf…usually.”

She fidgeted with her earring again and gave him a forced smile. “Yeah. We’re fine. I, um…I’ll be right back with your computer and files.”

Quickly Megan slipped out the door, out of sight, and Jack kicked himself. Her hesitation and lukewarm reception of his apology said what Megan was too polite to say.

He’d screwed up. Big-time. He’d freaked when he’d seen Caitlyn bleeding, seen Megan’s dog hovering over his daughter. His daughter’s injury was more his fault, because of his inattention, than anyone else’s. And he’d taken his fear, his guilt and his frustration out on the one person who least deserved his wrath.

As soon as Caity was released to go home, he would find some way to make amends with Megan. She deserved no less.

Megan drove home, lost in thought. She was still mulling over Caitlyn’s claim that Sam had saved her from another dog, when she turned onto her street and spotted two vehicles parked in front of her house. The sedan had a light bar on top and an insignia on the door. The truck had something like a cage in the back and black letters printed on the side.

A-N-I-M-A-L C-O-N-T-R-O-L.

Chapter 5

A prickling sensation chased down Megan’s neck as Jack’s promise to have Sam taken away echoed in her brain. “No!”

She wheeled her car into her driveway and leaped out. “Wait!” she cried to the sheriff deputy who watched as another man took Sam with a stiff lead to the waiting truck. “That’s my dog! You can’t do this!”

The deputy turned to her as she raced across the yard.

Panic rose in her throat, choking her. She’d be lost without Sam. He was the only reason she could sleep at night. His presence and protective instincts gave her the peace-of-mind she needed to live alone while her rapist walked the streets.

And she loved Sam. They’d been best friends from the day he’d come home with her from his trainer’s house. At a time when so many other friends had drifted away from her, Sam had been her anchor, her unconditionally devoted companion.

“Are you Megan Hoffman?” The sheriff’s deputy pulled a folded sheet from his pocket.

She swallowed hard, fighting down her learned fear of the uniform before her. She stood several feet away from the man, and when he stepped toward her, she backed up warily.

“Yes, I’m Megan. I-I know what Mr. Calhoun must have told you earlier. But Sam didn’t attack his daughter! I just left the hospital, and Caitlyn told us there was another dog.”

The deputy took a deep, tired breath, and for an instant, Megan sympathized with his unpleasant duty of overseeing the removal of a woman’s pet.

“Ma’am, all I have to go on is the report filed from the hospital. According to the information taken in the emergency room tonight, your dog attacked a little girl.”