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“Enough already.” Luke shoved out of the truck and dropped to the ground, wincing as his stiff muscles protested the sudden movement. His shoulders and back had throbbed all night, but he’d ridden it out, opting for two aspirin rather than the painkillers that scared the crap out of him. The pain would have to be unbearable for him to consider ingesting any substance with a tendency for addiction.
He shuffled his feet, craned his neck as he glanced around the expanse of property. The eerie Sunday-morning silence made him tense, as if the world was about to explode and he was the detonator. He was as far from the main drag of town as one could get and still be called part of Butterfly Harbor. His nearest neighbor lay a half mile down the road, his own house hidden behind a thicket of trees and dense shrubs. One would have to know the house was here to find it. The short driveway was canopied by overgrown redwoods, shaved back to allow cars through.
Luke preferred silence, but here, he knew no one could hear him scream.
Counting the steps it took to reach the porch, Luke stopped at the base of the stairs, his courage fading as the midmorning clouds burned away under the sun’s rays. He’d imagined this moment a hundred times in the past few weeks.
His stomach rolled. He may as well have been chained to the past, unable to break free and take that last step up. And one step inside.
He dropped his head forward as the sick feeling he’d tried to bank washed over him. He was right. Coming here had been a bad idea.
A high-pitched sound caught his ear, a whine followed by a shuffling. Luke inclined his head, listened. There it was again. He bent down as he scanned the ground. A child? A hurt child? Wait. Longer this time, deeper, weaker. And it was coming from under the stairs.
Luke scrambled forward to wrench what was left of the rotting trellis free, and tossed it aside. Black eyes as big as saucers blinked at him. The haggard golden retriever’s face was caked in mud and grime. Vines and weeds were wrapped around its paws and neck.
“Hey, boy.” Luke inched forward, held out a hand for a sniff as he gave the dog a once-over. Yep. Definitely a boy. A cool, damp nose pressed against his palm as the dog issued another whine. “How’d you get in here?” But Luke already knew. He’d wedged himself through the trellis often enough himself as a boy. The dog whimpered. Nudged him again. “Okay, let’s see what’s going on here.” Without moving the animal, Luke reached for the pocketknife he always carried, snapped it open and cut the vines. As he was pulling them aside, he stopped, examined them more closely and felt a bolt of anger strike through him. Those were knots. Hand-tied knots.
As if sensing Luke’s sudden shift in mood, the dog started to tremble. “Shh.” Luke stroked a hand down the dog’s side, soothing him, letting the dog calm him, and waited until the shaking subsided before he cut the remaining ties. The retriever wasn’t an adult, but he wasn’t small, either. As Luke considered his options on how to remove him from under the stairs, the dog scooted forward on his belly, crawling to freedom, before collapsing on the crispy grass with an exhausted sigh. “You must be thirsty.” Luke scratched the dog’s head right between the ears and saw black eyes lift to his, a mixture of gratitude and approval in his canine gaze. “And hungry, too, I bet.”
Another whimper.
“Okay. Give me a minute.” As Luke stood up, the dog’s head popped up. “I’ll be right back.” Mind racing, he jogged to the truck to rummage through the few supplies he’d bought, but nothing that would be good for a dog. And he’d forgotten to buy bottled water. The dog whined and Luke’s heart clenched before he raced up the front stairs and into his past.
CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_5ac31119-c484-59a3-ac9d-449bcdfa1f12)
HOLLY KNEW SHE’D have to get used to seeing Luke around town, but she hadn’t expected to see him again quite so soon. Her break from the diner provided enough time to hop over to the Flutterby Inn and pick up Simon, but as she reached the corner of Morning Dew Drive and Monarch Lane, she spotted Luke’s beat-up red truck parked outside Doc Collins’s veterinary clinic.
She caught her lower lip between her teeth. She could avoid him by taking the long way around, but that was ridiculous. She couldn’t waste her time going out of her way to avoid something she couldn’t change. She’d have to suck it up and accept Luke Saxon was here to stay. For now, at least.
“Come on, boy,” she heard Luke call as she kitty-crossed the street. The stress in his voice reminded Holly of how she sounded whenever Simon was sick; a half pleading, half desperate cajole that struck against her chest. Except Luke didn’t have a child that she knew of. Dang it. Keep walking.
Curiosity battled her determination to keep her distance. She didn’t want—or need—Luke in her life, and she doubted he’d appreciate her butting into his business, but the next thing she knew, she’d rounded the truck and found Luke squatting beside the open passenger door to the cab. “I promise Doc Collins won’t hurt you.”
“It’s not the Doc Collins you remember,” Holly said as a soft bark came from the truck. “His daughter Selina runs the practice now.”
“Thanks for the heads-up.” Luke tilted his chin to look at her. An expression she could only identify as fear clouded his blue eyes. “I found him under the porch of the house this morning. Getting him into the truck wasn’t a problem. Getting him out...”
Holly moved closer and Luke got to his feet. He was filthy, the front of his jeans and T-shirt muddied, his arms caked in dirt, and she saw streaks of grime in his hair and across his face. To his credit, Luke’s concern for the dog had taken over, and Holly could see why.
The golden retriever was stretched out on the cab’s bench seat, making her wonder how Luke had found enough room to drive. Leery black eyes blinked up at her, but the dog soon sighed and rested his head on doubled-up paws. “He’s a beauty.” Under the dirt, she suspected. Holly held out her hand, giving the dog ample time to sniff and accept, but when Holly shifted to pet the dog on the head, she swore she saw Luke’s new companion flinch. “I haven’t seen him around before. He must be a stray.”
“Somebody tied vines around him.” Luke pointed to the divisions in the dog’s fur. “On purpose. I don’t want to force him to do something he doesn’t want to do. I don’t want to scare him any more than he already is, but I need to get him checked out.”
Luke’s anger at what had happened to the dog was clear and eased her resentment toward him. “Why don’t you go get Doc Collins and I’ll stay with him. Maybe she’ll be able to coax him out.”
The relief on Luke’s face had Holly returning her attention to the dog. She didn’t want Luke’s gratitude or his useless apologies. But she could call a truce—for the animal’s sake.
“Thanks.”
When he dashed through the open gate and up the trio of stairs, the dog raised his head, watching every move Luke made before he blinked at Holly. She swore the dog was asking where Luke was going.
“He’ll be back in a second, okay?” She stroked the dog’s neck, not liking the continued trembling she felt beneath her hand. It took a special kind of cruel to impart this kind of injury on an animal or a chi—
The door to the clinic banged open. Both the dog and Holly watched a woman in her late forties lead Luke to the truck. She took off the white lab coat she wore, draped it over the open truck door and pushed wire-rimmed glasses higher on her nose as she bent down beside Holly. “I hear I have a new patient. Hi, Holly.” She repeated Holly’s greeting to the dog, only she didn’t get a flinch in response when she sank her hand into the dog’s shank. “Now, that’s a good boy. How’re Simon’s hermit crabs doing?”
“Better than I’d like,” Holly said and moved aside to give Selina access to the dog. “I’m on my way to pick him up right now. I hope everything’s okay, Luke.” Holly resumed her path to the Flutterby Inn.
“Thank you,” Luke said. “For staying with him.”
“Sure.” Holly hugged her arms around herself as she shivered despite the warm afternoon. Part of her wanted to call to Luke, to ask him to let her know what happened with the dog, but she couldn’t find the words.
She’d seen the same haunted, hurt look before—in Luke’s eyes, years ago. Holly double-timed it up the hill to the three-story Victorian inn, guilt niggling at her insides. As much as she didn’t want the past to matter, there was no escaping it; not when it continued to shape the present. It might not do any good to dwell on how things might have been different, but seeing Luke again made her wonder what might have happened had she ever asked teenage Luke if he needed help.
Instead of pretending he didn’t exist.
* * *
“IT’S AMAZING WHAT the promise of a dog treat will do.” Selina Collins backed away as the dog dropped out of the truck and nuzzled her hand for the hidden prize. Selina opened her palm and let the dog lick up the snack. “Are you okay?” She glanced over at Luke, who was still trying to process the panic that had descended at the house. He hated feeling helpless, hopeless, and for a long moment, he’d been a cop again back in Chicago, reliving those endless seconds when he’d realized nothing could stop what was going to happen. And nothing could alter what had happened. The pain, the suffering. The death. No matter how many times he replayed that day in his mind, he couldn’t change it.
But he could here. He could make a difference in Butterfly Harbor.
“Is he going to be okay?” he croaked, trying to block out the memory of explosions and screams, fire and failure.
“Let’s get him inside and see.” She picked up Luke’s arm and dropped some treats into his hand. “Lead the way. He’ll follow.”
Luke nodded, grateful for the calming effect Dr. Collins seemed to have on both of them. Her peppered blond hair was tugged into a bun, giving her more of a schoolmarm appearance than that of a vet, until she shrugged into her lab coat again. Voilà. The doctor was back.
“I heard Holly call you Luke,” Dr. Collins said. “Would that be Luke Saxon, our new sheriff?”
Luke’s guard shot up as if he’d shoved a shield in front of himself. “Yes.”
Selina closed the door behind her and led the way through the clinic to the exam room. The clinic wasn’t just a vet’s office; it was her home. The dog’s claws click-clacked on the hardwood floor as he trailed behind them—the animal was becoming more animated by the second.
“That would be the Saxons who lived up on Turnpike Lane?”
“What’s left of us still do.” He needed to get used to this conversation, as he was certain to be having it every day for a while. He could only imagine the damage his father had done after Luke left Butterfly Harbor, especially without Luke around to try to clean up his messes. “I still do.”
“Ah.” She patted his arm as she passed and encouraged the dog to join her in an exam room. It was wood paneled and decked out with modern equipment, and posters of various animals and warnings and reminders dotted the soft green walls.
Luke frowned. What did “ah” mean?
“Okay, boy, up.” Selina tapped her hand on the metal exam table.
The dog plopped its butt on the floor and whined up at Luke.
“What?” Luke asked. “Am I supposed to pick him up?” He didn’t think he and the dog had established enough trust for that.
“I don’t think so. Give me a second.” Selina left the room and returned with a solid block of wood. “Up.” She tapped the table again and this time, the dog used the block as stairs, keeping a cautious eye on Luke as he did so. “Well, you’ve got yourself a smart one, that’s for sure.” She began running her hands around the dog’s body, her face losing all expression as she prodded and pressed, poked and checked. “He’s dehydrated, which explains the lethargy. There’s no telling how long he was under your house.” When she turned to the counter, the dog let out a pent-up sigh and lay down, as if he knew what was coming next. Sure enough, Luke winced at the sight of the thermometer in Selina’s hand.
“I know,” Luke said as he moved to the dog’s head and bent down, petting the pooch as the doctor did what was necessary. “It’s undignified, isn’t it?” He didn’t want to think of all the poking and prodding he’d undergone during his lengthy stay in the hospital and then the recovery time in the burn unit.
Undignified was an understatement.
“Is this your first dog?” Selina asked.
“He’s not mine.”
The dog’s eyes brightened and he lifted his chin, ears twitching.
Luke looked to Selina when she chuckled. “He can’t understand me, right?”
“Don’t be so surprised. His temp’s normal, by the way. I can run some blood work to be sure, if it’ll put your mind at ease. And I’ll have my assistant give him a bath, make sure there wasn’t any damage to his skin from the knots and vines. I don’t charge an arm and a leg, so if cost is a concern—”
“It’s not.” Even if it was, he wasn’t going to let this dog suffer any more than it already had, even if it cost him a significant amount of cash. “Have you seen any other animals come in who have been treated this way?”
“No.” Selina’s face slammed shut like a bear trap. “But I’ll be on the lookout for it. I’d like to say no one in this town would ever treat an animal so horribly, but these days—” she shrugged “—who’s to say what goes on behind closed doors?”
Who indeed. “I’d appreciate you letting me know if you see or hear anything.” If he ever did come across the person responsible, he’d be calling on all of his training not to beat the criminal to a bloody pulp.
CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_2b4e1c0e-f831-5da6-85b3-c2cba78f6977)
BY LATE WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON, Holly had gone “mom” deaf to Simon’s “pew-pew-pewing” of make-believe laser guns. Her son’s enthusiasm for 1970s space operas had almost driven her ’round the bend.
Thank goodness her father had stopped by to take Simon with him to his house, where slow-cooked pot roast awaited them all for dinner once she closed the diner.
Angry storm clouds rolled in, tumbling over each other as if in competition to deluge Butterfly Harbor in their rage. If only the forecast had been more adamant about their arrival, she might not have left the house without her rain gear.
Monarch Lane may as well have rolled up for the day, as there was barely a person on the street. Most of the cars were gone, while shop owners and managers closed well before stated times. She’d pushed it too far walking to work this morning in the hopes of burning off some of the worry and concern that refused to abandon her. The fact she’d been wondering about Luke and his new companion didn’t sit well, either. She had enough things on her plate between putting an ad in the paper for help at the diner, keeping the doors open and maintaining a watchful eye on Simon.
She turned off the lights and locked up, twisting her key in the front door. A glance up at the sky had her sucking in a cold breath between clenched teeth. Gray clouds had turned black and rumbled overhead. Fat raindrops plopped on her cheeks as she shivered under her thin sweater and cursed herself for not keeping a spare umbrella at the diner. If she hustled, she could make it to her father’s house—less than a mile away—before it got too bad.
If only the weather was the reason for the sad empty streets and vacant storefronts. Any tourist passing through town would think Butterfly Harbor had been abandoned. Much like the way Catalina Island shut down in midafternoon, the sidewalks were vacant and the stores were dark. As Holly passed, signs were turned to Closed with a slow-motion attitude that spoke of “why bother?” Things had to get better.
They would. Things just needed a little nudge in the right direction.
The wind picked up and whipped her ponytailed hair around her face. She braced herself for being soaked to the skin before she got anywhere near her father’s front yard.
She increased her pace, hoofing it down Monarch Lane all the way to the abandoned community center that hadn’t seen any activity in years. By the time she crossed the road and headed up the hill, the rain was coming down in plumes, preventing her from hearing anything but the cacophonous drops hitting the cement like tiny jackhammers. The lightning and thunder added their mocking two cents and pounded in her ears.
“Holly!”
Luke’s voice exploded beside her and she yelped. She jumped back and avoided toppling into Mrs. Clancy’s prized flower bed. “What?” She pressed a hand against her hammering heart. “Luke, what the—”
“Get in the truck!” Lightning split the air as the sky thundered.
“Woof!” The sparkling-clean retriever shoved his head between Luke’s arms on the steering wheel.
“I’m not going far.” She regained her footing and started up the hill again, but her father’s house felt miles away. “I’m fine.”
Rain pinged off the roof of his cab as he kept pace beside her. She gnashed her teeth. The last thing she needed was Luke Saxon coming to her rescue. What karmic wrong had she committed—
“You’re headed to your dad’s, right?” Luke called.
The hair on the back of her neck prickled. She sped up and crossed the street. How did he know where she was going?
“For the love of—” Luke slammed on the brakes, shoved open the creaky door and got out. A lightning bolt blasted down and struck the oak twenty feet in front of her. “Holly!” The crack and thud of the huge branch had her falling solidly into Luke. His hands gripped her arms, hauling her away from the crackle and pop of power lines as the branch thudded on to the road and settled against the wind. The smell of ozone singed her nose and she choked. “Now will you get in the—”
“Yeah.” She shuddered, her brain going fuzzy as electricity zinged around her. Another couple of seconds and she could have been under that branch. She shrugged off his hold despite the comfort his hands provided. “You win.”
She scrambled around him and pulled open the passenger door, flinging herself inside as a deluge struck and obscured the street from view. Luke’s dog chuffed and blinked at her. Holly’s mouth twisted. Obviously the dog was the smartest of them, never having ventured out of the safety of the vehicle.
Luke slid into the driver’s seat, sending her a look she might have withered under had she been a violet under the too-hot sun. “I see you haven’t lost your stubborn streak.”
She ignored the backhanded compliment. “He cleaned up nicely.” Holly shoved her sopping hair out of her eyes and leaned into the dog that had apparently undergone a self-confidence transplant. He nuzzled her shoulder. The hot, stifling air that circled the cab made it feel as if she’d stepped into a sauna. “I take it he’s yours now?”
“So it would seem. Buckle up.” He jerked his chin toward the seat belt as he put the car into Reverse before heading back toward Monarch Lane.
As if her town wasn’t bleak enough, the storm was going to give them a right walloping. The waves began crashing up against the town wall, sending mist and spray over the road ahead of them.
“What’s his name?” Holly hated the silence pulsing between them.
“He hasn’t told me yet,” Luke said with something akin to a smile on his tight lips. “Doc Collins asked the same thing for his new file, but...” He shrugged and clutched the steering wheel tighter as a gust of wind battered the truck. “Would have been nice to have some warning about this storm.”
Huh. Holly settled in her seat, trying to distract herself with petting no-name fur face, but it wasn’t any use. “I talked to my father. About you and the job.”
“Yeah?” He waited for a decrepit 70s throwback van to pass before he turned left on Wasp Tail Road.
“He told me he recommended you.”
“He did. Does it matter?”
Holly pressed her lips into a hard, thin line. “He’s still out of a job. Doesn’t matter who they replaced him with.”
“I’m just icing on the cake, then.” He shifted gears and the truck strained against his order. “I didn’t accept this offer lightly, Holly. I’m well aware of what I left behind and the mistakes I made. Believe me, I didn’t expect anyone to throw a parade when I drove into town. Especially you.”
Holly stared out her window. Until Luke had walked into the diner the other day, she hadn’t realized how much resentment she was still clinging to. She wasn’t ashamed of her feelings—because of Luke she’d nearly lost her father. From her perspective, Luke hadn’t had to witness the aftermath of the accident. He didn’t have to watch Jake suffer through physical therapy, months in the hospital and pain that had followed him every day since. Or watch as her mother got in her car and drove away. “We all make mistakes, Luke.”
“I guess some of us aren’t allowed to learn from them.”
She whipped around to stare at him. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.” Luke took his eyes off the road and met her gaze. “There’s nothing I can do to change the past, but what happened with your father changed my life.” It was then she saw the mixture of grief and pain in his cool blue eyes. “I need this job, Holly. I hope you can understand that.”
Holly remained silent, mostly because her father had pretty much said the same thing to her. But while Jake Gordon had faith in people’s abilities to change, she knew better. The Luke Saxon she knew was a drinker. Just like Gray. The Luke she remembered was irresponsible, dangerous and unpredictable. Just like Gray. She’d gone down that road before, and she wasn’t one to repeat history, even with a distant acquaintance.
If Holly had her way, there was no reason to have much interaction with Luke from now on. Staying out of rainstorms would be a good start. Staying out of his too-close-for-comfort truck wasn’t a bad idea, either. She could smell the hint of his aftershave. Warm, spicy. Intoxicating.
“Dad’s always been more generous on the forgiveness front than me,” she said to distract—and remind—herself.
