Книга - For Love Of A Dog

For Love Of A Dog
Janice Carter


A soldier's best friend?Army captain Luca Rossi hasn’t forgotten the dog who saved his life in Afghanistan. He just didn’t expect to be reunited with him on an Ohio soybean farm. Kai Westfield, the photojournalist who agreed to transport Amigo back to the States, has a different future in mind for the mutt that's bringing her orphaned nephew out of his grief. This tranquil, beautiful place is also healing the wounded soldier…and Kai deserves credit, too. But she’s only holding down the fort here until her dad recovers his good health; she can’t wait to get back to the big city. Can Luca summon the strength to stop Kai—and the peaceful life he envisions with her—from slipping away for good?







A soldier’s best friend?

Army captain Luca Rossi hasn’t forgotten the dog who saved his life in Afghanistan. He just didn’t expect to be reunited with him on an Ohio soybean farm. Kai Westfield, the photojournalist who agreed to transport Amigo back to the States, has a different future in mind for the mutt that’s bringing her orphaned nephew out of his grief. This tranquil, beautiful place is also healing the wounded soldier...and Kai deserves credit, too. But she’s only holding down the fort here until her dad recovers his good health; she can’t wait to get back to the big city. Can Luca summon the strength to stop Kai—and the peaceful life he envisions with her—from slipping away for good?


“Can I help you?”

Kai didn’t smile, and she heard the lack of warmth in her voice. Not the traditional greeting for folks around Lima, Ohio, but there was an air of something suspicious about the man. Amigo must have sensed something, too, and started barking.

The stranger took off his ball cap, exposing a head that had been shorn in the not-too-distant past. She couldn’t tell exactly what color his eyes were, but they looked tired. In fact, he looked like he could use a good night’s sleep. Or several.

He was about to say something, but Amigo’s barking became almost frantic—a keening howl she’d never heard the dog make.

“For heaven’s sake,” she muttered, grasping the door handle. The dog leaped from the truck and raced for the man, circling around and around him, jumping up and nipping at his hands.

The man, bending to touch Amigo’s head, said, “I believe this is my dog.”


Dear Reader (#ue69af47e-7f34-527f-85e0-24a4656b251b),

A few years ago I read a magazine article about a young American soldier in Afghanistan who had befriended a stray dog while his unit was working in the Afghan mountains. A few days after the soldiers returned to base camp, they were amazed to see that same dog show up at the gate. It had apparently followed them all the way. The soldier knew this was a special animal and worked through a lot of red tape to take the dog back to the States with him.

That article resonated strongly with me and was a reminder of the deep bond between humans and animals, especially dogs. I decided to write a story about that bond and the healing effect it has on people. In For Love of a Dog, the bond between Amigo and Luca Rossi, the soldier whose life the dog saved, and between Amigo and Thomas, the silent boy grieving for his parents, proves to be the catalyst for both man and boy’s emotional recoveries. My heroine, Kai, watches over this healing process, guarding the tie between Amigo and her nephew, Thomas. She’ll do everything in her power to ensure it’s not broken.

While writing this novel, I learned that many military personnel have adopted stray dogs to bring home with them. Their effort and obvious love for these animals is another reminder of how important dogs are to our physical, emotional and mental health.

I hope you like this book and can empathize with the connection between humans and the animals that serve us and love us.

Enjoy!

Janice Carter


For Love of a Dog

Janice Carter






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Writing has been a passion of JANICE CARTER’s from a young age, but that passion ebbed and flowed with the course of her life, emerging when she was a young mother. Needing a night out, she took a romance-writing course at a local community college and began a story that eventually became her first novel, a Harlequin Intrigue. Following that success, writing became a second career for her (after teaching), and she went on to publish ten more Harlequin novels. Janice says she’s been very lucky to be able to do what she enjoys most: writing about people and their connections to one another. In other words, love and romance.


For Evelyn Ruth Carter, who soared in a hot-air balloon at age eighty and rode on the back of a motorcycle at eighty-five; her spirit, insight and tenderness inspire all who know and love her.

Acknowledgments

A big thank-you to Scott Carter and Jim Weigand for their information on soybean farming and farm machinery! Thanks also to veterinarian Dr. Stephen Hess for his help regarding treatment of injured animals, especially dogs!


Contents

Cover (#u366e5ab1-bddd-5c41-be1b-e6b4eb5f5b76)

Back Cover Text (#u5413236b-4325-5009-9a64-cd72584c6f44)

Introduction (#u38474711-8a78-5184-bb73-3d240ebdfe8c)

Dear Reader (#u29341e4a-2f4a-552c-9266-6f9f44738b11)

Title Page (#u6ce2811a-b562-5fdc-9cb1-2d36a275a054)

About the Author (#uf08c4392-5e1b-5ec2-a755-26a5a81920db)

Dedication (#ua2ae9509-6cba-5a1c-be61-f6bae44bbdd2)

PROLOGUE (#u87596acb-d8fd-53ad-a5cd-3cdf287f4829)

CHAPTER ONE (#ub5d6e5ce-ff66-5980-ad5b-1887775508f0)

CHAPTER TWO (#u28a9cbca-dbdc-5f1d-bdf8-4a9692185b56)

CHAPTER THREE (#uf00cdcb5-40cc-5abb-bce6-320b16e3a76c)

CHAPTER FOUR (#uf80f9094-98d1-51ea-a2a3-492a5abcfe05)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


PROLOGUE (#ue69af47e-7f34-527f-85e0-24a4656b251b)

“THAT’S A DOG.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Kai looked from the pathetic creature in the carrier crate to the young soldier. “I was asked to take back a package. No one said anything about a dog.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, ma’am, this is the package. And he’s not just any dog. This here is Amigo.”

“No, no. I can’t do this. And please don’t call me ma’am.”

“Sorry, ma...miss, I assure you, it won’t be a problem. He has all the required papers for his passage to the States. You won’t have to do a thing...well, except collect him from baggage when you arrive in New York, and, uh, we’re hoping you can see that he gets to his final destination since those transport plans haven’t worked out.”

“Sorry?”

He had the grace to flush. “I apologize. A last-minute glitch.”

“So what is the final destination?”

“An address outside Newark, New Jersey.”

“And how am I supposed to arrange that?” She was trying to toss any and every reason at him for not going through with this crazy request. A dog!

“Um, if you don’t have your own vehicle, perhaps a taxi or one of those shuttle vans? We’ll be happy to reimburse any cost to you.”

“We?”

“All the guys in my squad—Captain Rossi’s men. We organized this for him.”

“This is really too much...uh—” she squinted at his ID “—Corporal McDougall. I was expecting a small package that I could put into the mail when I got to the States. Not something alive.” She stared at the dog, his dark eyes peering up at her. Sad, chocolate-brown eyes. Kai looked back at the soldier. “I’m sorry, but there’s just no way.”

The soldier’s face crumpled. For a horrifying second, Kai thought he might cry.

“See—” he paused to clear his throat again “—when I say that Amigo isn’t just any dog, I really mean it. He and the Cap were almost predestined to get together. We were in this valley in Helmand, and one morning Amigo wandered into our camp. He was so skinny you could count every rib. One ear almost torn off—that one there, the right.”

Kai followed his pointing finger. Sensing he was again the center of attention, the dog wearily raised his head. Kai noted the jagged edge of ear. He was pathetically thin. A village dog, typical of those she’d encountered in India and South Asia. Pale yellow-brown short hair, longish snout and white-tipped tail now tucked beneath his hind end. Not a dog someone would be drawn to in any pet store. Or anywhere else for that matter. But apparently this dog was special.

“Your flight doesn’t leave for three hours. Could we have a coffee while I tell you all about Amigo and Captain Rossi?”

Kai looked into his earnest blue eyes and felt herself relent. The captain was clearly special, but why the dog? Her curiosity won out. “All right, Corporal McDougall, lead the way.” She followed him as he pushed the trolley holding the dog in its crate, trying to stifle her resentment that, once again, she’d allowed herself to be soft-soaped into a situation she wanted no part of. You really have to learn to say no. She thought back to the American Embassy party in Kuwait City. Free-flowing Champagne and a heady conversation with a very attractive marine whose rank she couldn’t recall but who knew someone who needed a small favor if she was flying stateside from Frankfurt.

After she heard the rest of McDougall’s story, she found herself returning to it hours later, ensconced in her Business Class seat courtesy of the magazine that had sent her to Kuwait.

His account had been spare, omitting specific details of what had happened in that Afghan valley, explaining how the dog had been important to Luca Rossi and why his men had adopted him after their captain had been airlifted back to the States. But when he finished, she still didn’t see why the dog mattered so much that favors had been called in and promises made in order to expedite the paperwork needed to send it to Rossi. Likely she’d never know, and with any luck, the handover would go as smoothly as the check-in at Frankfurt.

She closed her eyes, vaguely aware of a crying infant in Economy and blessed her generous contract one last time before falling asleep.

* * *

STANDING IN LINE while she waited for the dog’s paperwork to clear customs at LaGuardia, Kai was grateful for the good night’s sleep. Otherwise she might have been as cranky as the man in front of her whose impatience with the border agent had simply resulted in even more of a slowdown.

The wait gave her an opportunity to use her cell phone to book a rental car from an outlet in the terminal. She Google mapped the address McDougall had given her and realized it wasn’t too far from Newark itself. Calculating distance and logistics—though if the line didn’t move any faster she’d have to do the math all over again—Kai figured she might make it to her own apartment in Brooklyn by late afternoon. Which would give her a chance to start editing some of the photos she’d shot in Kuwait.

Her fingers hovered over her iPhone. She should also call her folks to let them know she was safely home. No. Maybe later, when she really was home.

“Ms. Westfield?”

Kai turned to see an airport employee with a cart holding the dog’s crate.

“This your dog?”

“Uh, well, yes. I’m in charge of the dog.”

“Just need to make sure is all—wouldn’t want you to take the wrong animal.”

She had to wonder how often that had happened. Wouldn’t people recognize their own pets? Unless they were too jet-lagged. Speaking of which, the dog didn’t look as though he’d enjoyed the flight as much as she had. He didn’t even bother raising his head from his forepaws.

Kai signed the paper the man was holding. “Thanks.”

“No problem. And, uh, you may not want to give him anything more than water for a bit. Seems the guy had a bout of air sickness. We had to hose his crate down, case you’re wondering why he’s a bit damp.” He waved a few fingers at her and the dog as he walked away.

She took a second look, noticing the beads of moisture clinging to the dog’s back. Water. Food. Kai was beginning to realize she hadn’t factored the dog into her plans at all. Good thing that dog isn’t going home with me.

Finally, it was her turn at customs and once again, the signature on Amigo’s papers raised an eyebrow and garnered an automatic clearance stamp. “Must be some special dog,” the officer commented.

“Apparently,” Kai muttered, grabbed the documents and pushed the trolley through the security doors. By the time she checked in at the car rental, Kai knew her schedule was already way out of whack. She tried to quell the rising frustration.

Remotely unlocking the SUV, she opened the rear hatch. It occurred to her that there was no way she’d be able to lift the dog into the vehicle while it was still in its crate. She looked around for a porter, kicking herself for not thinking of getting one as she left the terminal. Then she remembered the leash Corporal McDougall had handed her, together with a paper certifying the dog’s various vaccinations. “Helps to have a vet on base,” he’d mentioned, “and access to certain medical supplies.”

She dug into her carry-on for the leash. “All right, you can do this, Kai Westfield. You’ve handled bigger critters than this sorry-looking mutt.” She unhitched the crate door and slowly opened it. “Easy boy,” she murmured. But instead of leaping into freedom, the dog crouched in the far corner. “Come on, boy. Just let me get this leash onto your collar.”

The dog refused to cooperate, and Kai was reluctant to stick her hand into the crate any farther. She was afraid he might lunge at her, especially if he had been as deeply attached to the captain as McDougall had said. Her brother had once owned a dog like that, and it had eventually had to be put down as no one else in the family could handle it.

“Maybe if we see eye to eye on this, buddy.” She sat on the pavement and peered into the open crate. The dog gave her a baleful look.

“Some motivation, perhaps?” She rummaged around in her handbag till her fingers grasped the end of a granola bar. “Don’t know how old this thing is, but you probably won’t care.” Tearing off the wrapper, she extended the bar into the cage.

The dog’s nose twitched. He slowly rose off his haunches and followed the bar out of the crate and onto the pavement. Kai quickly clipped the leash onto the collar as he wolfed down the last of the bar. He licked his lips, stretched and looked back at her before wobbling over to the rear tire and cocking his hind leg.

Right, thought Kai. Gotta get that business over with. Finished, the animal turned to face her as if to say, “Now what?”

“Exactly my sentiments,” she muttered. “I guess some water would be good.” She pulled out the half-empty bottle she’d had on the flight. “Sorry, no fancy bowl.” She tipped some into her cupped palm and held it out. Curious, he moved forward, sniffed her hand, peered apprehensively at her and then lapped up the water. Kai repeated this until the bottle was empty.

She hoisted the empty crate into the rear of the SUV. The dog stared thoughtfully at her for a moment before leaping into the back next to the crate. Kai slammed the hatch and got into the driver’s seat. “Okay. Let’s get this show on the road.” She took a look at the dog in the rearview mirror, turned the key and shifted into gear.

Fifteen minutes from her destination, she checked the mirror for the umpteenth time, marveling that an animal that had never experienced life outside rural Afghanistan could so blithely snooze through early rush hour in one of the largest cities in the States. Making up for the trauma of his first flights, she guessed. And with any luck, she thought, turning into the residential area where Captain Rossi lived, she’d soon be tucked into her own bed.

The enclave was typical of many affluent residential areas. Tree-lined streets without sidewalks, well-tended lawns, landscaped gardens and homes that were more upscale and unique than the cookie-cutter variety found in newer commuter subdivisions. Not that Kai knew much about suburbia, having grown up on a soybean farm, but for most of her teen years she’d yearned for just such a lifestyle. Anyplace, anywhere but Lima, Ohio.

She slowed the car to a crawl, scanning the street numbers on the mailboxes at the end of each drive, braking suddenly when she spotted the house on her right, just ahead. The lurch aroused the dog, who gave a low moan and staggered to his feet. There were two vehicles in the driveway, but she was able to pull up behind one of them. Turning off the ignition, she sat for a moment, staring at the Georgian-style redbrick home with its small porch flanked by white colonnades, and white shutters framing the windows of both stories. A pretty home even in late March.

Kai wondered whether she ought to leave the dog in the car or take him up to the door with her. Then she thought that perhaps the dog’s arrival was meant to be a surprise and decided Captain Rossi would be thrilled to find Amigo standing on his doorstep.

But when the door swung open, her theory fizzled out. A young woman with long blond hair stood before Kai. Her slight frown suggested puzzlement, and as her gaze shifted from Kai to Amigo, her expression changed to disgust.

“Yes?”

Kai figured that since she wasn’t holding out a pamphlet of any kind, some added pleasantry might have been made, like “Hello,” or even “Can I help you?” Still, she smiled.

“I’m looking for Captain Rossi. Is this his house?”

“What do you want with him?”

Kai forced her smile wider. “Oh, not me so much as this dog. He’s a surprise for the captain.”

“What?”

“It’s a long story, best told by the captain if he’s available.”

“Well, he’s definitely not available. He’s recovering from serious injuries, and the last thing he needs is—”

“Who is it, dear?” An older woman appeared in the background.

Captain Rossi’s mother? Kai turned her smile to the salt-and-pepper-haired woman. “Sorry for the intrusion, Mrs., uh, Rossi? I understand your family has endured some, uh, difficult days lately, but the men in Captain Rossi’s squad pitched in to send Amigo to him.” She inclined her head toward the dog. “And since I was heading for New York, they asked me to bring him to, uh, to the captain.” She stopped, defeated by the growing displeasure in the older woman’s face.

“As you say, we have indeed endured difficult days, and I’m afraid that none of us has the energy, the time nor even the interest in adding a dog to the equation. So if you wouldn’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you returned the poor creature to the people whose misguided sympathies assumed we—or even my son—would want it.”

The tiny hairs on the back of Kai’s neck bristled. Ignoring the satisfied smile on the younger woman’s face—girlfriend? wife?—and trying hard to hold her temper, she said, “The problem is, you see, that the men who sent Amigo are back there. In Afghanistan.”

Mrs. Rossi drew her lips together in a tight line. “If you insist on leaving the dog, I shall simply have to call Animal Protection. They’ll dispose of it for me. It’s up to you.”

The eyes that beaded in on Kai were cool and unyielding. After a long, uncomfortable moment, Kai murmured, “I hope Captain Rossi won’t be too disappointed.”

“He—” Mrs. Rossi began, but stopped when the other woman placed a hand on her arm.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” the younger woman said and closed the door.

Kai didn’t move, thinking perhaps the whole scene was a mistake and someone—maybe Rossi himself—would fling the door open again. No such luck. Mustering as much dignity as she could, in case those formidable eyes were peering out through the sheer drapes in the bay window, Kai pulled the dog back to the SUV.

After he reluctantly clambered into the rear, she sagged into the driver’s seat, giving the house one last look. Then she took a deep breath and said, “I guess it’s just you and me now, Amigo.”

She glanced up at the rearview mirror. The dog uttered a low moaning sound and slumped down on his forepaws.

“Was that a groan? Don’t tell me that was a groan.” Kai snapped the seat belt around her. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe this whole scene.” She reversed, a tad quickly, out of the drive. Following the meandering streets out of the area, she considered her next move, realizing at the same time that her plans for the rest of the day were now in serious need of amendment.

She checked on the dog one last time before heading for Brooklyn. Amigo was already asleep, completely oblivious to his narrow escape from the pound.

How the heck did I end up with a dog?

* * *

IT WAS THE slam of a door that grabbed his attention, dragging him from the apathy that his therapist warned could become his “new normal.” Luca had grimaced at the phrase. Not that he would mind being normal. Growing up as an only child in a family that demanded exceptionality had instilled a strong urge in his adolescence to be, simply, average. Any normal would be new to him.

He stretched his neck, just making out through the bare branches of the oak tree next to his bedroom window the rooftop of a black SUV reversing out of the drive. Something about the way the vehicle swerved as it gained momentum made him wonder about the driver’s mood. His mother had been doing guard duty since his arrival home from the hospital a week ago. And there was no more diligent sentry, he knew, than Isabel Rossi. Though to be fair, he himself had mumbled through his post-anesthetic haze that he wanted no visitors. None at all, he’d had to repeat. Meaning no bridge or tennis club friends of his mother’s. And no family, either. Especially the legion of cousins, aunts and uncles who’d been phoning nonstop since they’d heard he was home.

The effort of leaning forward exhausted him. He lay back against the pillows and closed his eyes, waiting for the dizziness to subside. His doctor had told him it would take a few weeks before he felt like his “old self,” but Luca guessed he’d never see that old self again. One of many thoughts that kept rolling around in his brain the past few weeks was that maybe losing his old self wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Lately he’d been asking himself if he even wanted that Luca Rossi back. He hated to let down his friends—both in the military and out—along with family members who not only expected that former self back but encouraged its return. Yet if he wanted to be whole again—and he knew in his heart that he did—he would have to nurture this new self. That was at the top of the list of things to do. His goals, the therapist had explained.

There was a light tap on his bedroom door before it swung gently open. Luca kept his eyes shut, hoping either his mother or Becky would think he was asleep.

“Luca?” came the faintest of whispers.

Of all the luck. Becky.

“Luca?”

There was no point. Persistence was her second name.

“Hmm?” He opened his eyes.

“Can I get you anything?”

An hour ago she’d posed the same question. “No, thanks. But I appreciate the support you’re giving my mother, Becky.”

“It’s the least I can do.” She shrugged.

“But I’m sure you must have work things to get back to,” he began, irritated by the shrug. He knew very well that his mother hadn’t asked for help, and Becky was the last person he himself would have contacted. “We won’t mind if you need to return to your other life.”

She frowned.

“I mean your life outside playing nursemaid,” he quipped.

The frown deepened. “Are you telling me you don’t want me around anymore?”

Luca closed his eyes. Right-to-the-point Becky. Her other middle name. Now or never, he told himself. Her presence has been bugging you for a week now, so get to it. Finish what you started.

“I hope my message wasn’t quite so blunt,” he said.

“But still.”

“I think it might be best for both of us if we went back to where we were before.”

“Before you got injured? You mean last summer?”

“Yeah.” He was surprised at the huskiness in his voice. Perhaps some part of him hadn’t recovered from their breakup after all.

Becky pursed her lips. “I thought maybe we could—you know—start over again. Put all of that behind us.”

It was tempting, he thought, looking at her blond, slender beauty. Remembering how she’d been able to drive him mad with her smile. Until last July, when he learned she’d been seeing his best friend behind his back. He felt that small hardness inside again.

“What’s done is done, Becky. I think it’s best if we both moved on.”

She flushed. “Have it your way,” she said. She turned and walked out the door.

Luca waited for the adrenaline surge to ease, followed by a wave of relief. The first step, Rossi, in finding your new self.

* * *

KAI WAS EXHAUSTED by the time she finally got her shower, poured a glass of wine and sat down to her mail. She glanced across her small living room to see the dog snoozing contentedly on the area rug beneath the glass coffee table. They’d both been through a lot in the past forty-eight hours, and Kai was hard-pressed to decide which of them had handled the stress better. She refused to believe dogs—especially this particular mongrel—were intuitive. Yet there had been times, particularly in the hours since leaving the Rossi home, when Kai was certain from Amigo’s mournful stare that she’d been judged and found wanting.

Moving slowly through rush hour traffic, she’d had the opportunity to make some plans for Amigo. Step one would be to try to contact Corporal McDougall, though she hated to admit her failure to deliver the dog. Step two could be her contact at the American Embassy in Kuwait City; she was tempted to let him handle the problem, but their light flirtation was now one of those embarrassing life moments that people strive to put behind them. Definitely not for resurrection, she decided. Step three was to search out an animal shelter here in the city. Perhaps the best option, she figured, if she could be reassured that a good foster home would be found.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING, all Kai’s plans were put on hold. The phone woke her before the dog had a chance to.

“Mom? Is everything okay? I called you when I got in late yesterday. Did you get my voice mail?”

“Yes, dear, but not until after midnight. I thought best to wait till this morning.”

Kai gripped her cell phone. “What’s happened?”

“It’s your father. He’s had a stroke, but he’s going to be okay. The doctor here says it’s a warning, though.”

“Tell me what happened.” And while her mother recounted the events of the past twenty-four hours, Kai sensed her life was not going to be normal for quite some time.

“How’s Thomas taking it?” she asked when her mother stopped to take a deep breath.

“I really can’t say. Janet’s looking after him for now, but she has to go back to work the day after tomorrow, so...”

Kai closed her eyes, knowing what her mother wanted to say. “I’ll come as soon as I can get a rental car,” she said.

There was a short silence followed by a whisper of a sigh. “Thanks, dear. I was hoping you’d be able to.”

“Bye, Mom. Give Dad and Thomas a kiss for me. I’ll call you as soon as I hit town.”

“Bye, dear. Drive carefully.”

Kai switched off her phone and immediately burst into tears. Her father, only in his early seventies, had always been so robust. Much too healthy for strokes or any other life-threatening conditions.

I’m not ready for this, was her next thought, followed at once by guilt for being so self-centered. Her small family had endured so much in the past three years and now this, just when everyone had begun to accept the past and move forward. Everyone except Thomas, of course. What would this latest setback do for his recovery?

She reached for a tissue on the bedside table and noticed the dog, sitting expectantly at the foot of her bed. His head was cocked, his expression curious.

“I guess it’s you and me again, partner,” she said, sniffling. “Must be our destiny. No point in fighting it.” She threw back the duvet and got out of bed. Suddenly the day had taken on a whole other purpose.


CHAPTER ONE (#ue69af47e-7f34-527f-85e0-24a4656b251b)

One month later...

THE KITCHEN WAS EMPTY. Kai sighed, hoping this wasn’t going to be one of those difficult days with Thomas refusing to go to school. To complicate matters, she was due at the hospital in Lima to drive her parents back to the farm. Her mother had been staying with her friend, Janet, in town while her father recovered from his stroke. Perhaps that was it. Thomas wanted to be around when his grandpa came home.

“Thomas?” she called up the stairs. No response.

Last night, she’d thought of asking him if he wanted to go to the hospital with her, but decided she’d be enabling his reluctance to attend school. She suspected a bullying problem, though he hadn’t complained. Of course, Thomas didn’t complain about anything. That would involve talking, and he hadn’t spoken a word to anyone in a year. Not since his father died.

Kai knew there was no point in delving into that painful memory. Too much to do right here in the now. That’s what had kept her going since her arrival at the farm, believing that eventually she’d be able to recover her former life—the one before her dad’s stroke and her return to Lima. Heck, even the one before that dog.

“Thomas? It’s getting late.” She went back through the kitchen and out onto the porch. Just past the shed and between the barn and the veggie garden stood Thomas, in his dark green rain jacket, with the dog.

The day she’d arrived at the farm, after picking Thomas up at Janet’s house, both dog and boy had been wary of each other. Thomas had clearly been interested in the animal, constantly looking at him through the crate. Amigo, not so much. His frequent sidelong glances at Thomas had been fearful, as if he were expecting a thrown stone or a cuff on the head. It had taken Kai several minutes and lots of treats to coax Amigo out of his crate once they’d reached the farm. After gobbling up his reward, he’d slunk off to a corner of the garage and lain down, accepting whatever fate had in store for him.

Kai had wished she could speak dog language to reassure the pitiful animal, but knew eventually he would feel, look and act like a happy dog. That was her hope. If things didn’t turn out that way, she’d have to come up with another game plan for Amigo. One she already knew she’d have trouble implementing.

Hard to believe it had been only four weeks since she’d driven to Brooklyn from Newark, her most pressing worry the dog dozing in the back seat. And it was especially ironic that the answer to the question of what to do with the dog had been revealed only the next day, after her mother’s phone call. Take him with you. As if she’d had any choice. Dropping him off at the pound—as that woman at Captain Rossi’s house had advised—had never been an option. She knew all too well that grown animals that weren’t considered “cute” often weren’t adopted. And cute just didn’t cut it for Amigo.

But that was weeks ago. The changes—physical and otherwise—were remarkable. Amigo had transformed into a regular mutt, and he and Thomas had become a team. Right now, the two seemed to be having a conversation: Thomas, gesturing with a stick in his right hand, first to the garden and then to the ground at his feet; the dog, staring up at him. It was difficult to tell if any part of Thomas’s message was getting through, judging by Amigo’s cocked head.

Thomas raised his arm and threw the stick. The dog’s head swiveled, following the stick’s arc into the garden plot. He looked back at Thomas, who thrust his right arm into the air, pointing to where the stick had landed. Kai held her breath, and before she’d counted to ten, the dog rose and ran after it. Well, perhaps “sauntered” was more appropriate. When Amigo reached the stick, he sniffed it a bit before walking back to Thomas, mouth empty.

“Thomas,” she called. “It’s almost time to head up to the road.” He turned her way but didn’t move. She knew he wasn’t the kind of kid to instantly react to such reminders, so she waited just long enough to see him reluctantly head toward the kitchen door before she went inside.

She sipped her coffee while Thomas ate his cereal and thought perhaps she ought to change her mind about taking him with her to the hospital. She knew he’d been missing his grandparents and his mood this morning might not be just about going to school. When he slurped up the last of the milk in his bowl, she said, “Would you like to take a day off school and come with me to pick up Grandpa and Grandma?”

He just nodded, but she’d seen the instant spark in his eyes. “Okay, I’ll walk up the road and tell the bus driver while you go make your bed.”

The early-morning rain had already vanished, and the sun was breaking through the cloud cover by the time she’d walked out to the main road and back, her sweatshirt sticking to her. Thomas was waiting patiently on the stoop leading from the kitchen. Kai’s father’s old Buick was parked in front of the two-car garage adjacent to the farmhouse. Just as she was opening the driver’s door, Kai noticed Amigo lurking near the garden. There’d been recent evidence of a groundhog, and the dog must have caught its scent.

“Um, maybe we better put Amigo in the garage while we’re gone. I don’t think he’ll wander off, but I can’t be sure.”

Thomas’s face revealed his displeasure at this, but he beckoned to Amigo, who was watching them from his sentry point in the garden. Kai marveled again at how the boy seemed able to communicate with the dog without uttering a word. It was almost as if the two could read each other’s minds. Amigo trotted over to them and followed Thomas into the garage. From the drooping tail, Kai guessed he was as unhappy at this development as Thomas.

She revved the engine, made a creaking turn and drove down the gravel lane toward the highway leading to town. Rolling down the window to let in some fresh air, she was struck again by the huge silence of the countryside—except for the crunch of tires and the ominous tick-ticking of the engine.

Silence. She’d lived with it for a month now and found it oppressive. There were days when she wanted to shake Thomas and cry, “Just speak to me. Say anything. One word. Please.” But there was no point. He’d come around in his own time. Or so the psychologist who’d been treating him since David’s death claimed. Elective mutism, he’d called it. A way of controlling something in a world that seemed out of control to an eight-year-old who’d endured the loss of his mother when he was five and then the trauma of his father’s death two years later.

“Don’t push him,” was the constant phrase and Kai was almost sick of hearing it. She couldn’t help thinking that maybe Thomas needed a push. But then she’d look at his small, pale face, so like her brother’s at the same age, and the pain of all that the family had suffered these past three years would fill her up again, followed by the inevitable guilt. She’d been gallivanting all over the world while her aging parents had lived with that pain and the tangible symbol of it—Thomas’s silence—staring them in the face each moment of every day.

* * *

MARGARET PLACED THE folded pajamas into her husband’s duffel, set the toiletry bag on top and paused briefly to stare down at the slippers on his feet. They’d be all right for the ride home. Besides, she hadn’t bothered bringing his shoes to the hospital. He’d only begun walking again—if one could call the shuffling gait that—in the past few days. She zipped up the bag and smiled at Harry.

“Well, this is it. The day we’ve been waiting for.”

He looked up at her and mumbled a garbled reply that kept her guessing for a few seconds. She couldn’t blame him for feeling negative. His stroke was not only unexpected but grossly unfair, especially considering the cycle of bad luck the family had endured for the past three years. And she couldn’t help but see the dark humor in her current situation. One at home who wouldn’t talk and now another who couldn’t.

There’d been times the last four weeks when she’d just wanted to curl up in bed and stay there. Let someone else take charge. Although she’d been grateful and relieved to have Kai come home, she knew her daughter well enough to realize that her presence was temporary. In fact, she was waiting for Kai to announce that she’d soon be returning to New York. As Harry used to say of his daughter, “Dust doesn’t get a chance to settle on her.”

Now that’s enough self-pity, Margaret Westfield. There’s an eight-year-old boy—an orphan—counting on you. Even if he doesn’t show it.

There was a light tap on the opened door. “Your daughter’s parked outside and wants to know if you’d like her to come in and help with Mr. Westfield or if you can manage.”

Margaret smiled at the young nurse’s aide. Don’t kill the messenger, she reminded herself. How typical of Kai not to realize a bit of help would be appreciated without having to ask. “I can manage if you’d be able to wheel Harry out for me.”

“Of course.” The aide unlocked the wheelchair and pushed it out of the room. Margaret followed, carrying Harry’s duffel and her own bag, and rolling the fold-up walker that Harry would be using at home. She’d been boarding at Janet’s house since Kai came back to look after Thomas. Thank goodness for old friends. That gift had hit home for her and Harry after David’s death last year. Kai had been in some exotic country or other and hadn’t even received word of the accident until days later. When she did make it back for the funeral, she’d made it obvious her stay was going to be as brief as possible.

Margaret caught up to the aide and Harry at the elevator just as the door opened, revealing Kai and Thomas.

“I found a parking space after all.” Kai’s anxious expression flicked back and forth from Margaret to Harry.

“Just in time,” Margaret said. Wanting to make up for the slight sarcasm in her voice, she focused on Thomas, who hung back behind Kai. “Look who’s here, Harry.”

Harry managed a lopsided smile and extended his good hand. Thomas hesitated and then moved into that outstretched arm to hug his grandfather. Margaret teared up and saw that Kai, too, was close to tears.

“This is a lovely surprise,” she said. “Even if you’re missing a day of school, Thomas.” Something flashed in her daughter’s face that made Margaret add, “Thank you for that, Kai.”

The elevator ride was silent except for the occasional snuffling from Harry, his right hand clutching Thomas’s. This is another side of the new Harry I have to live with, Margaret thought. An emotional one, with a sensitivity he’d never shown in their forty-three-year marriage. The doctor had explained these changes were to be expected after a stroke. They might persist or disappear as his health returned. Right now, she’d take the old Harry no matter how irritating and insensitive he used to be.

Getting Harry into the car wasn’t as difficult as Margaret had feared, though it took both Kai and the aide to help him to his feet and slide him into the passenger seat. The physiotherapist had advised Margaret to get him walking every day. He’d need a wheelchair for excursions to the mall—fat chance of that, thought Margaret, who couldn’t get Harry to a mall when he’d had the use of two legs—but the walker would suffice for indoors. Anyway, Margaret knew the drill. Walk, talk and use the brain as much as possible.

She scarcely heard Kai chattering about the latest at the farm or what groceries she’d stocked up on for their arrival home. Instead, her mind was busily making plans for the days and weeks ahead. The physiotherapist and the doctor had recommended an innovative program for stroke patients—one that could be found not in Lima, but in Columbus—and Margaret was determined to take Harry there. Her cousin, Evelyn, might be able to put her up. The only problem was Thomas and who would look after him. Bringing him along would be too disruptive—for all of them.

When they turned onto the gravel road that led to the farm, Margaret noticed Harry look out the window. Neighbors’ fields around them were ready for planting. She guessed that was on her husband’s mind as he checked out both sides of the road. He made a low humming sound. During his stay at the rehab hospital, he’d be asking himself, “Who’s going to plant the soybeans?” Margaret forced her thoughts elsewhere. It was time to look ahead, she told herself.

Just before they rounded the curve that took them to their driveway, Margaret spotted a red tractor plowing the field next to theirs. Bryant Lewis didn’t waste any time. He and Harry used to try to see who’d get the first field done, then the first row planted and so on. It was a silly competition that had stopped the year Harry refused to sign a contract with the big company that wanted everyone to use their patented seed. Then the year Bryant told Harry he was looking into taking a wind turbine had pretty much ended the neighborly chats over the fence. And when David was killed...well, they hadn’t had any communication with their longtime neighbor since then.

Harry’s humming grew louder as they drove past Bryant’s field. Margaret saw Kai glance anxiously at her father. She’d grown up with that peculiar habit of his and could read the signs as well as anyone. The Buick pulled up to the garage.

“Thomas, you take Grandpa’s suitcase up to the house while Grandma and I help him get out of the car,” Kai instructed.

Thomas climbed out, taking the suitcase that was propped between him and Margaret. Then Kai opened the trunk and pulled out the walker. “I think this’ll do to get Dad into the house, don’t you, Mom?”

For a moment Margaret was speechless herself. This was a side of Kai—being in charge—she’d only seen the one time she’d visited her in New York. Never in the context of her childhood home. Harry had always assumed that role, even when David was working the farm with him. But then, David had always been quick to please, unlike Kai, who’d taken more pleasure from rebellion.

Tempted though she was to assert her authority, Margaret stopped herself. The past four weeks of going to the hospital daily, working with Harry and his physiotherapist, handling the paperwork and bills arising from his health care and making tentative plans for the near future had been draining. Right now, she was all too happy to let Kai take the lead.

By the time the two of them had helped Harry up to the kitchen door, Thomas had gone back to collect Margaret’s suitcase and was waiting patiently on the porch, an expression of expectation on his face. Margaret half noticed the exchange between Kai and Thomas but was busy helping Harry lift the front wheels of his walker over the stoop. She didn’t see Thomas running toward the garage, but the sound she heard seconds later froze her to the spot.

Barking. She turned around to spot a brownish-yellow dog leaping up at Thomas and quickly looked at Kai.

“I’ll explain when we get inside,” was all Kai said before Margaret could get a word out.

Margaret would have insisted on an immediate explanation were it not for Harry, who’d halted his progress into the kitchen to turn around, as well. His face was ashen and a deep but loud humming came from his open mouth.

* * *

“I THINK THAT’S enough for today.”

Luca took the towel-wrapped cold pack from his physiotherapist, Paul, and used it to wipe his sweaty brow before placing it on his left knee. He closed his eyes, savoring the coolness that seeped into the inflammation around his knee prosthetic. Today’s workout had been rigorous as Paul took him into the final stage of his therapy. He tried to speak but could only get out an incomprehensible grunt, which Paul recognized all too well.

He patted Luca’s shoulder. “Enjoy. You did great. See you on Thursday.”

After Paul headed off for his next patient, Luca waited the requisite fifteen minutes before sitting up, took a few deep breaths to ease the dizziness and reached for the sweatshirt draped on the chair next to the physio gurney. Five minutes later he was walking, assisted by his cane, out the front door of the rehabilitation center.

The day had marked another milestone: his first time driving himself to and from the center. A week ago he’d achieved the ninety-degree bend in his knee that Paul had been guiding him toward with the promise that he’d soon be able to drive again. Of course, his mother had needed some persuasion to relinquish her chauffeuring duties, just as she’d needed time to cut back on some of the other mothering tasks she’d assumed upon Luca’s return home from the hospital.

Getting behind the wheel took effort, but Luca heaved a satisfied sigh as he turned on the ignition. One more step to independence. If only true independence were not so far away. Luca tried not to dwell on the fact that his childhood home was now the only one he had. He had to be grateful for that, knowing so many of his military comrades fared much poorer—physically, mentally and financially. But he also knew that until he was out in the real world again, taking on all the responsibilities that entailed, he could not begin the actual healing process. The physical one was underway and ticking along nicely. As to the emotional and psychological recovery, Luca expected the course to be much bumpier.

One day at a time. That was the mantra that had taken him from the hospital at Kandahar base five months ago to this parking lot in Newark, New Jersey. Heaven only knew how many times a day he’d repeated those words to himself. There was a time, pre-Afghanistan, when he’d have scoffed at such a mantra. In those days, he’d considered himself a doer, someone who didn’t sit by while others worked. Someone who had to lead, who chafed at idleness and loathed indecision. Someone who occasionally had difficulty keeping anger in check. If there was a single thing to be thankful for these past few months, it had to be the chance to say goodbye to that Luca Rossi.

When he pulled up to his mother’s home, Luca saw that she had company. He didn’t recognize the car but noted it had DC license plates. As he walked past it to the front door, he also noticed an army hat on the passenger seat. He paused, considering getting back into his mother’s sedan. He’d made his formal application for discharge a month after his return to the States, and according to the military lawyer who’d been counselling him, it would not be contested. There had been a few overtures and promises of lighter duties, even promotion. All blather, as far as Luca was concerned. He took a deep breath and went inside the house.

“Luca?” his mother called. “We’re in the solarium, darling.”

He went down the hall and through the kitchen, spotted a tray laid out with his mother’s best China tea service and turned into the solarium. A uniformed NCO leaped to his feet, snapping a smart salute.

Luca grinned. “At ease, McDougall—and thank you, but I’m a civvie now.”

“No way, sir. Never.”

Luca ignored the hand extended to him, instead wrapping the younger officer in a bear hug, waiting for the unexpected tears to vanish before releasing the corporal.

“Please, sit,” he said, gesturing to a chair. He propped his cane against the solarium door frame and removed his windbreaker. As he was taking his own seat opposite McDougall, his mother excused herself to get the tea.

“How are you? And the others? What’s happening with the squad? I haven’t heard from anyone in almost a month.”

“I’m on leave and scheduled to head back there in two weeks. Some of the others are home, too, and a few took leave in Germany. A couple have requested medical discharges.” McDougall fell silent.

Luca didn’t need to ask who they were. Kowalski and Murphy, who’d run after Lopez and seen him get blown up. Narrowly escaping that fate, as well.

“How are they doing?”

McDougall bit his lip. “Murphy’s managing. Lost a leg. But Kowalski...they figure he’s got PTSD. Referring him to a psych facility.”

Luca let that sink in, trying hard not to give in to the guilt.

“But the reason I’m here, sir—other than to say hello and pass on greetings from the squad—is to say how sorry I am that Amigo never got to you.”

Luca frowned. Amigo? He drew a blank for a second, then recalled the mangy stray that had adopted him a few weeks before the disaster.

“When the squad finally got back to base,” McDougall went on, “we realized Amigo had followed us the whole way. He was about half a day behind us, we reckoned, and showed up bright and early our first morning. Fortunately, McNaught—you remember him, sir—spotted him before he got shot by one of the Afghan patrols. Took a while to explain Amigo was a pet—the squad mascot, so to speak.”

Luca found himself nodding absently, taking in the information but not quite processing it. His mind kept drifting to the Afghan valley where his life and the lives of his men had been forever altered. When he finally tuned back in, he caught the last line of McDougall’s story.

“Sorry,” he said, “could you repeat that last sentence?”

“We persuaded this woman—a photojournalist I think, en route from Kuwait through Frankfurt—to help transport Amigo stateside, but when she got here your mother—” McDougall swiveled to look toward the kitchen and lowered his voice “—refused to take him, so the woman had to leave with Amigo.”

Luca frowned. “I’m a bit confused. This woman came to the house and was turned away by my mother?”

“Basically.”

“And who was this woman again?”

McDougall fished around in the breast pocket of his uniform jacket to withdraw a slip of paper. “This is her name and address. At least, her current address. She lives in Brooklyn, but she’s staying at her parents’ farm in Ohio.”

Luca’s vision blurred as he read. He didn’t know whether to feel sad or angry. Frustrated, perhaps, that his life had been taken out of his hands by other people. By my own mother. “Kay Westfield? Lima, Ohio?”

“It’s actually Kai, rhymes with ‘sigh.’ I found that out right away. And it’s Lima as in the bean. She was cool, though I could tell she was a bit reluctant to take a dog at first. Came around when I told her the story.”

“Told her the story?”

McDougall straightened at the tone in his captain’s voice. “Not all of it, sir, just enough for her to know the dog was important to you.”

Luca hid the dismay he was feeling. It seemed to him that Afghanistan was never going to go away, and now there was a dog to contend with. Not just any dog, he reminded himself. There’d been something special about the stray from the start. Those tired brown eyes of his had conveyed a war-weariness that Luca had connected with instantly. As much as part of him wished the mutt had stayed in Afghanistan—along with the memory of that day—Luca also knew were it not for Amigo, he might have been killed with Lopez.

“So where is the dog now?”

“Apparently, Westfield took him with her to Ohio. I’m not sure of the details. Some family emergency. She sent me an email when she got there. Said she was sorry, dog could not be safely delivered to your mother—her words, by the way—and left her contact info if we wanted to come and get him. I just got back stateside a week ago and thought, rather than make any plans to fetch the dog, I should talk to you first.” He paused. “See if you want him.”

Luca recognized McDougall was giving him an out. He could leave the situation as it stood, or do something about it. The young man’s expression was as neutral as Luca hoped his own was. Military training had polished that skill. But he also knew the effort McDougall and the others in his squad must have made to ship the dog across the world. Not just the effort, he told himself. The compassion they must have been feeling for Amigo and—especially—for him.

He extracted his wallet from the pocket of his hoodie and tucked the piece of paper inside. “Thank you, Corporal McDougall I appreciate what you and the other men have done for me. It’s quite remarkable, and...well...I intend to follow up. I’ve only got two more weeks of physio. After that, perhaps a road trip to Ohio. Must be nice there in May.”

McDougall’s smile told him he’d made the right decision. “If there’s anything else we can do to help with that, sir, let me know.”

“I think all of you have done more than enough. I’ll let you know how it works out.”

“Here we are,” Luca’s mother announced, coming into the room with the tea tray. “It took a bit longer than I expected.” She set the tray on the coffee table, glancing expectantly at Luca.

Curious about our talk, he realized. He was thankful for the diversion of tea, and the conversation drifted into everyday matters, giving him a chance to cool down. One day at a time. He passed the plate of cookies to McDougall and decided perhaps the confrontation with his mother about turning Amigo away could wait till tomorrow, after he Googled Lima, Ohio, and figured out a plan.


CHAPTER TWO (#ue69af47e-7f34-527f-85e0-24a4656b251b)

“CAN I HAVE a word before we go?”

Kai glanced quickly from her father to her mother, who was whispering at her side. She made an effort to hide her annoyance. Couldn’t her mother see that Harry, waiting to be driven to Columbus and the rehab center, was bobbing his head back and forth in frustration? Harry had never been a patient man at the best of times, but Kai sensed he was also anxious about what lay ahead.

“What is it?” she hissed.

Her mother pursed her lips. “You have to get rid of the dog. Your father can’t bear to have it around. Surely you’ve noticed his agitation whenever the animal appears at the back door?”

Kai’s gaze shifted at once to the living-room window. Thomas, hands in jacket pockets, was pacing up and down the drive while Amigo strolled at his side, pausing occasionally to sniff the ground. For a second, she almost thought Thomas was talking to the dog. She knew he was upset about Harry leaving for Columbus. Even the morning’s pancakes had failed to draw interest, much less a smile.

“Now isn’t a good time, Mom. Thomas is already feeling bad about Dad leaving so soon after getting back home.”

“There’s never a good time for doing things we don’t want to do, Kai. All I’m asking is to please make sure the dog isn’t here when we return. Is that too much to ask?”

Kai placed a hand on her mother’s forearm. “Let’s not rush this, Mom.”

Margaret’s response was checked by a guttural roar from Harry, his eyebrows knotted together as he glared at them. “Yes, dear, I know we’re taking too long,” she said. Then, inhaling deeply, she turned to Kai. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

But her smile didn’t fool Kai. The battle over Amigo had merely been deferred.

Hours later, long after her parents had driven away and Kai had loaded the supper dishes into the washer, she sagged onto a kitchen chair and let out a long sigh. Her plans to return to Brooklyn once her father had come home from the hospital had been shattered by the news of his admission to the special therapy program in Columbus. She’d put her career on hold for the past month looking after Thomas, and now she was faced with an additional four to six weeks, depending on Harry’s progress. The fight between her frustration over this unexpected turn and her sense of family duty—something she’d been shirking in her pursuit of career—had made for restless nights the past week.

Thomas was upstairs, getting ready for bed. She’d had a talk with him, mainly about his grandparents’ trip and how important the rehab would be. “We hope Grandpa will be his old self again, Thomas,” she’d said. “Keep your fingers crossed.” He’d stared solemnly at her before crossing his fingers. Then he’d surprised her with a good-night hug.

She was exhausted, not so much from the minimal housework she’d done after her parents left, but from the strain of dealing with her nephew.

At the same time, the last few weeks had brought her closer to Thomas. In the past, when she’d come home for occasional family gatherings, he’d been the cute little boy she’d presented with gifts. Her visits had never been long enough to get to know Thomas as a person. She regretted not taking more opportunities to deepen her relationship with her nephew, and especially with David and his wife. Those chances were gone, but at least she could try to make up for it by being with Thomas now.

He’d be going back to school tomorrow, allowing her time to tackle her own work, which she’d been postponing for days. Her first weeks back on the farm had been spent driving back and forth to the hospital in Lima, and getting both Thomas and Amigo used to her and to each other. She’d sent off her photos of the innovative architecture of Kuwait City to the magazine that commissioned them and managed to go through her email, feeling some angst at having to turn down two promising contracts. The downside of freelancing was that declining too many jobs could lead to a lack of offers. Word inevitably got around that you were off the radar. Eventually, the opportunities dried up.

She’d spent time every day maintaining contacts, keeping up-to-date with various job possibilities she’d read about online or heard about from Alice and Scott, college friends who shared studio space with her in Brooklyn. They ran an online magazine about urban design and style trends and sometimes collaborated with Kai on special projects.

When she’d first arrived home, she’d sent an email to Corporal McDougall informing him that she’d been unable to deliver the dog but that he or Captain Rossi would be welcome to arrange a pickup.

So far that day hadn’t come, though she’d received a reply shortly after. He said he’d sort things out when he was back stateside and thanked her for her trouble. Since then, nothing. Now she realized the handover of the dog to McDougall or someone else wasn’t likely going to happen. Perhaps that was a good thing. Lately, the highlight of her day was the grin on Thomas’s face when Amigo jumped on him as he stepped off the school bus. She was loath to see that grin—a small bit of happiness in his day—vanish.

Kai reached for her iPad to check her messages once more before looking in on Thomas, whose light should be out by now.

As soon as she opened her inbox and read the latest message from Alice, she knew the evening wasn’t going to be as relaxing as she’d expected.

Hey, Kai. Hope things are okay there in Lima. Just want to give you a heads-up. Had a phone call from that soldier you were telling me about—McDougall?—to say he’s just come home on leave. He’s planning a visit to the guy you were supposed to deliver the dog to but said he wanted to talk to the guy first before filling you in on the latest. Maybe he’ll take the mutt off your hands. Let me know the latest—things are fine here. Scott’s off on assignment again.

Bye for now,

Al

Kai read the line again. Maybe he’ll take that mutt off your hands.

Not if I can help it, was her first thought. The upside of her parents’ stay in Columbus meant she had time to convince them that the dog was a good thing for Thomas. She mulled it over for a long moment, composing her message to Corporal McDougall, and then began to type.

* * *

HE COULD STILL CANCEL. Unpacking the SUV would only be a minor inconvenience. He saw his mother hovering inside the front door, hand at the base of her throat as if she were forestalling an imminent collapse of her airway. But he knew that although this road trip no longer had a purpose, he had to do it anyway. Had to get moving and out of the house. Assert his independence. Stop feeling sorry for himself. Be a man again, as his father would have said.

Decision made, he waved again to his mother and gingerly climbed into his newly leased SUV, avoiding bumping the steering wheel shaft with his left knee. By the time he was on the highway, the initial disappointment he’d felt reading McDougall’s email had changed to resentment. He had no idea what kind of person this Kai Westfield was, nor did he care, but what sense of entitlement allowed her to claim property that wasn’t hers to claim? Who was she to foil all the hard work and trouble his squad had gone to, simply because she felt Amigo had “settled in,” as McDougall had reported? He’d chewed over the contents of that message several times by the time he reached the state line. “Settled in” be damned. Luca pointed the SUV west and headed for Lima, Ohio.

* * *

MARGARET WALKED OUT of Harry’s room in the rehab center, her cell phone tucked into the crook of her neck while she dried her hands on a paper towel.

“We’re just about to go down for dinner, Kai. Let me call you back.”

“But I told Tony I’d let him know about the seed drill rental. He’s got a list of people, and the sooner I get on that list, the sooner I can organize the planting. After I get the fields turned over, of course.”

Margaret heard the frustration in her daughter’s voice but distance muted it, minimizing the problem. Compared to Harry’s ongoing recovery, the farm was trivial. What did it matter whether the fields got turned over or even planted? Harry had been talking retirement for the past three years right up to David’s death, when everything in their lives—even the farm—had come to a standstill.

“You decide then, dear, if you really want to go ahead with this.”

“Well, I’ve already posted some flyers in town for help. I guess I just wanted confirmation from you that Dad would be okay with it. What would he want?”

Margaret closed her eyes, fending off the urge to scream. “Who can say, Kai? Your father barely speaks.” Much less acknowledges my presence, Margaret wanted to add. When he wasn’t going through his exercise regimen, Harry seemed content to sit and stare into space. Most of the time Margaret felt a part of the general landscape of the hospital, no more meaningful than one of the generic framed prints scattered on the walls. She sometimes wondered why she bothered visiting every day, but quickly dismissed thoughts that only served to heighten her own frustration. Besides, she felt that were she to return to the farm, Harry might never rally.

“But—”

“Look, Kai. You’ve helped with enough spring plantings to know what to do. If you choose to go through with it this year, follow the usual routine. Heavens, go see Bryant next door if you need any advice.”

“Dad would disown me!”

“Right now he’s not doing much of anything, so I think you’re safe.”

There was a moment of silence. Margaret pictured Kai counting to ten.

“All right. I’ll see how things go. If I can make it happen, I will. For Dad. I think he’d be pleased. And I’m not going to contact Bryant unless I’m desperate.”

“Whatever you think is best, dear. I’ll give you a call at the end of the week. Oh, and by the way, have you managed to get rid of that dog yet?”

Another pause. “Um, not yet. But I’m working on it.”

She knew her daughter well enough to guess what that cryptic answer meant, but pushed on. “You saw how upset your father was. Just seeing another dog around the farm brings it all back.”

“Well, it’s interesting that Thomas hasn’t had the same reaction. And he was there that day, too.”

“Your father blames himself. It’s different.”

“But that’s the point, Mom. He doesn’t need to. It was an accident. A crazy, freak accident that no one could have prevented, and there’s no point in having this argument all over again.”

The pitch in Kai’s voice told Margaret to drop it. “Do what you can. Please.” She disconnected before Kai could respond. Then, dabbing at her eyes with the paper towel, she summoned a bit of a smile and walked back into Harry’s room.

“Ready to go for dinner, honey? I think it’s shepherd’s pie tonight.”

She looked down at her husband and the grimace on his face. Well, she thought, some of those facial muscles are coming back, anyway.

* * *

IT HAD BEEN a good morning. Thomas had boarded the school bus without the usual long face or foot-dragging. They’d established a routine now that obviously pleased him. Kai and Amigo accompanied him to the county road and waited for the bus, which always signaled its arrival with three horn beeps. As the bus door opened, Thomas bent to pat Amigo before ascending, paused at the top of the steps to wave goodbye to Kai, then proceeded to his seat. She had recently noticed that he’d begun to sit beside someone. This was a good sign, she decided, and an obvious improvement over his slouching shuffle to the back of the bus to sit by himself.

Before the accident, Kai had gathered, Thomas had had two playmates visit the farm several times, and he’d been to both of their homes. But after Thomas stopped talking, the boys no longer wanted to come. According to Margaret, though, Thomas had improved from the totally withdrawn child he’d been in the first weeks following his father’s death. That was due, in large part, to seeing the psychologist.

But Kai had expected to see more progress on her return to the farm. The Thomas she’d known on her sporadic visits home just wasn’t there anymore. Like her father. She felt herself tearing up and took a deep breath. Losing it now would do no one any good. She whistled for Amigo, who was snuffling through the tall weeds in the roadside ditch.

Walking back to the house, Amigo trailing behind, Kai reflected on how much the place had changed since she’d left home at eighteen to go to college.

The first few years the changes had been gradual. After David’s marriage to Annie, his high school girlfriend, and his decision to stay on the farm, Harry had a bungalow built for them on the property. It was understood that David and Annie would take over the soybean operation once Harry retired. Then he and Margaret would switch with the younger couple, moving into the smaller house and letting David take over the farmhouse. At least that had been the plan until Annie’s cancer diagnosis, when Thomas was five. That was the moment, Kai figured, when everyone realized life followed its own course. In the months after Annie’s death, no one had imagined that more tragedy was in store for them.

She stood at the end of the gravel lane, surveying what was left of the Westfield family farm. Fifty acres, where once there had been two hundred. When Annie started her cancer treatments, Harry and Margaret began selling off parcels of land to help with medical costs. Most of the acreage went to Bryant Lewis, who had been pestering Harry for years to sell. But the sale had widened the gap in their childhood friendship, and David’s accident had ruled out any chance of a reconciliation.

Amigo bounded past her, knowing where she was headed. By the time she reached the chicken pen, he was waiting patiently.

“You can look as innocent as you want, my friend, but there’s no way you’re getting anywhere near those hens.” Growing up on a farm left one with few illusions about the animal world. Kai knew even a family pet—not to mention a dog like Amigo, with his mixed pedigree and life as a stray in Afghanistan—could not be trusted in a henhouse. She shooed him aside while deftly slipping through the door into the pen. The proximity of the dog had sent the hens flapping to the rear, which gave her a chance to get into the coop.

She took the eggs into the house, leaving Amigo sitting by the pen. When she’d first brought him home, she’d kept him on a leash for several days. She’d known nothing about his personality and didn’t want to risk his running off, especially onto Bryant Lewis’s property. But he’d eventually figured out the range of his new territory and kept to their lot. Perhaps some instinct told him the land beyond the wire fence was off-limits, and Kai hoped he’d never stray there.

Midafternoon there were still no responses to the ad she’d posted on the town’s website. It had been a week since she’d told her mother she was going to start the planting, and so far she’d had no replies to her ad. Perhaps a few more hard copies tacked up in obvious locations around town would help.

Noticing the forlorn expression on Amigo’s face as she headed for the pickup changed her mind about leashing him to the clothesline pole. She whistled once and he trotted toward her, tongue already lolling in anticipation of open-window breezes.

* * *

DRIVING SOUTH FROM an overnight motel stay in Toledo, Luca wondered why he’d never been to Ohio. Never had a reason to, likely, but the countryside beyond the city limits was lovely. Expanses of farmland gradually took over from suburban sprawl. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen great tracts of arable land. Certainly not in Afghanistan, where the predominant colors were shades of brown, flecked with occasional splashes of green. He forced his mind away from the comparison. Part of his reason for this road trip was leaving all that behind. Advice from the psychotherapist he’d seen surfaced. Be mindful. Don’t bury the past. Look at the memories and then bring your mind back to the present. Luca hadn’t been a good candidate for mindfulness.

It wasn’t long before he spotted the Welcome to Lima, Ohio, sign. He’d set up the GPS but hadn’t used it, preferring an old-school road map. Population about 37,000. A nice size. Big enough to escape bumping into the same people every day but not too big to feel lost.

There had been a time when he’d liked the feeling of anonymity in a metropolis. Growing up in the suburban enclave of his family home had been restricting. The same kids went to the same private schools, played tennis at the same clubs, summered at the same exclusive camps.

When he’d graduated from the college chosen for him by his parents in a course he’d chosen in an act of rebellion for a future he hardly gave a thought to at the time, he couldn’t wait to leave Newark. Enlisting in the army had seemed the best option for escape, and his parents’ strong objections had merely solidified his resolve. But signing up for a second tour of duty had turned out to be the worst decision he’d ever made.

Luca caught himself before opening that particular memory door. Here and now, he reminded himself. He was in Lima. All he had to do was get Amigo. He’d work out the rest of it—short-term and maybe long-term goals—on the way back to New Jersey.

* * *

KAI WAS UNLOADING groceries when she noticed a swirl of dust approaching the farm. She wasn’t expecting anyone, unless someone had spotted her ad and decided to come out to the farm instead of emailing. She set the bag back onto the seat of the pickup and called Amigo. He came running from around the back of the house. She pointed to the truck, feeling a bit guilty about tricking him into thinking another ride was in the offing, and closed the door behind him after cracking one of the windows. The likelihood of Bryant Lewis popping in for a spontaneous visit was slim, but just in case, she didn’t want Amigo out in the open.

The mini-tornado of gravel and dirt blew into the yard. Whoever was driving hadn’t had the sense to slow down. It took a moment for Kai to see, through the settling dust, a black SUV lurch to a halt right behind the truck. She coughed, wiping her eyes, and hoped the driver wasn’t looking for a job. If so, he’s fired.

The driver’s door flew open, but it seemed to take forever for a tall man to extricate himself from behind the wheel. When he did, he paused for a moment, holding the door frame. Despite the blue jeans, checked shirt and ball cap, Kai knew at once he was from a city much bigger than Lima. The pallor of his face and the way he squinted when he took off his sunglasses told her he hadn’t been exposed to much sunshine in a while. When he moved toward her, she saw that he had a slight limp. His jaw seemed tense. Feeling pain, she wondered? As he drew closer, she realized that, at some point in time, he’d been a fairly attractive man. Now he looked just plain unhealthy.

“Can I help you?” She didn’t smile and heard the lack of warmth in her voice. Not the traditional greeting for folks around Lima, but there was an air of something suspicious about him. Amigo must have sensed something, too, for he started barking.

Her tone stopped the man. He took off the ball cap, exposing a head that had been shorn in the not-too-distant past. She couldn’t tell exactly what color his eyes were, but they looked tired. In fact, he looked like he could use a good night’s sleep. Or several.

He was about to say something, but Amigo’s barking became almost frantic—a keening howl she’d never heard the dog make.

“For heaven’s sake,” she muttered, grasping the door handle. The dog leaped from the truck and raced for the man, circling around and around him, jumping up and nipping at his hands.

A sense of dread grew inside her as the man, bending to touch Amigo’s head, said, “I believe this is my dog.”


CHAPTER THREE (#ue69af47e-7f34-527f-85e0-24a4656b251b)

NOT ONLY WAS she surprised by his arrival, Kai Westfield seemed seriously alarmed. He wondered why. Hadn’t McDougall let her know he was coming for the dog? Amigo. His squirming, enthusiastic body warm and familiar to Luca’s hand. The animal’s huge affection and loyalty for him was momentarily overwhelming. Luca bent as far as his knee permitted, lowered his head to Amigo’s ear and whispered, “Good boy.” He blinked away the dampness in his eyes before straightening. The woman, hands on hips and face flushed, looked ready to do battle. Luca summoned his best smile.

“I’m Luca Rossi,” he said, extending his right hand. “And I assume you’re Kai Westfield? The photographer who brought Amigo home for me? Corporal McDougall has told me how gracious you were about taking Amigo and about the problem handing him over. I appreciate the trouble you went to, and the inconvenience of looking after him for these past few weeks.”

She took a moment to respond, tucking strands of chestnut-colored hair behind her ear. Composing herself? Luca wondered.

“I told Corporal McDougall that the dog had settled in here, and it wasn’t necessary for anyone to come and get him.”

Wasn’t necessary? That nettled. “Well, after all the trouble my men went to so that Amigo could come to the States, I think it was most assuredly necessary for me to come and get him. Thank you again for your trouble, and if you were out of pocket at all as a result of Amigo’s transport here, I’m happy to reimburse you.”

“There’s far more at stake here than compensation. No amount of money would make me relinquish Amigo.”

Relinquish? Were they talking about a dog she’d had in her possession for a few weeks? Or some kind of war booty? “Miss Westfield, I’m not sure what the problem is here. You agreed to bring my dog to me, and I understand the complications—both on my side and on yours—that made delivery of Amigo impossible at the time. But now I’m here to collect my dog and—” Interrupted by the blast of a horn, he turned sharply to the highway, registering at the same time her own quick pivot and mild oath.

“It’s the school bus,” she said. “I have to go get Thomas. We meet him at the end of the road. Amigo and I.” She’d just uttered his name when Amigo sprinted forward, heading up the long, narrow road to the highway. Then she took off after the dog.

Luca frowned, watching the two of them jog up the drive. The whole scenario was getting more complicated by the second and wasn’t going at all as he’d planned. Still, flexibility could be necessary at times, and perhaps this was one of them. He’d adopt a more conciliatory manner when she came back with Thomas, whoever that might be. A son? McDougall hadn’t mentioned anything personal about the woman other than her profession, and he hadn’t noticed a wedding ring. But then his focus had been on her growing anger.

His gaze shifted to the house before him and the surrounding area. He hadn’t noticed much of anything when he’d pulled up behind her pickup, other than her confrontational stance. But now he saw that the white frame, two-story house with its old-fashioned veranda could use a fresh coat of paint. To the far left was a bungalow clad in gray aluminum siding with a smaller porch and to the right of the farmhouse, a detached two-car garage. Behind that he saw two more outbuildings. The smaller one seemed to be a shed and the other a red-painted barn. The land behind the house stretched beyond his sight line. The fields were bare, speckled with what appeared to be weeds. Not that Luca knew anything about weeds or even crops for that matter, but to his urban eye, the place seemed to be in a state of neglect. That puzzled him a bit; surely farmers would be planting in May?

At least, that’s what some farmers had done. He’d passed miles of fields neatly furrowed, some even sprouting small green shoots. The place just before his turnoff to the Westfield property had been immaculate, its fields and stately farmhouse a possible feature in some country living magazine.

The rumble of the school bus continuing on its way drew his attention back to the driveway. Through the line of trees siding the gravel drive he could just make out Westfield and a small boy. Amigo was bounding back and forth between the boy and the ditches on either side of the drive. Bounding happily, Luca noted. That worried him a little.

As the pair got closer, Luca saw that the boy—small-boned, red-haired and freckled—had spotted him and hung back. When they finally came to a stop in front of him, Luca said, “Hello. You must be Thomas,” and extended his right hand.

The boy kept his eyes on the ground, ignoring Luca’s hand. Luca looked at the woman, who bent to whisper something in his ear. Without a glance at either of them, Thomas slouched over to the veranda, where he sat on the lowest step, elbows on his knees and hands cupping his lowered head.

Luca didn’t know much about kids, but he recognized misery when he saw it. “What’s happening? Your, uh, son? Is he okay?”

Her face was pale, and she looked as unhappy as the boy. “Well...Thomas—he’s my nephew, by the way—he’s feeling bad about you taking Amigo.”

“But surely he knew I was coming for my dog.” He saw from the way she swung her head his way that his tone had annoyed her.

“He didn’t know you’d be coming to take him back.”

What a complete mess this whole situation was. Amigo, who had given up his sniffing around the garage doors, ran over to the boy. Leaping and whining failed to draw the kid’s attention, so Amigo trotted back to Luca. There had been few times in his adulthood when Luca hadn’t known what to do. This was one of them.

She saved him the trouble of a decision. “Just take the dog,” she hissed. “Leave right now. I’ll explain everything to Thomas after.”

The vehemence in her face stopped any token protest he might have made. He headed for his SUV, aware of Amigo panting behind him, and opened the passenger-side door. “Here, boy.” Luca snapped his fingers. Amigo sat on his haunches, cocking his head. “Inside.” Luca snapped his fingers again, pointing into the SUV.

Amigo craned his head back toward Thomas, who was still staring at his feet, before leaping into the car. Luca slammed the door and walked around to his side.

He cleared his throat to get her attention. “Thanks again for taking care of him.” But she was still looking at Thomas, so Luca began his clumsy entry into the driver’s seat. When he fired the ignition, Kai swung around with a startled expression that made him wonder if she’d been hoping he’d change his mind.

No chance. He reversed, made a three-point turn and slowly drove to the highway. Amigo started whining and then barking.

“What’s up, fella? Want some air?” He rolled all the windows down until the A/C kicked in. Amigo’s barking rose to a frantic howl. Luca applied the brake and the dog jumped out the window.

Luca swore, shifted into Park and watched Amigo race back to the farmhouse, the veranda and the boy. He waited a moment, various game plans racing through his mind. Just keep on going, was one.

But reconnecting with Amigo had resurrected a lot of buried emotion. He remembered the first time he’d spotted the stray scrounging around the supply tent. A shout and thrown stone had sent the dog running, but the next morning he’d come back. It had seemed like the animal was purposely seeking him out. As if he’d known Luca would relent and toss him a few scraps.

Big mistake, Lopez had warned. “You don’t want that scruffy mutt to be your amigo.” Luca had ignored his sergeant and that’s exactly what the stray had become. His amigo. The name stuck.

So leaving wasn’t really an option. That left compromise. Luca could do that. If he could negotiate with Afghan tribal elders about where and when to build a road, he could parlay a settlement over ownership of a dog. And Amigo was his dog. The boy and Amigo just needed a bit of time—say twenty-four hours—to see that.

The drive was too narrow to turn around, so Luca slowly reversed all the way back to where Kai Westfield still stood. He waited as she walked toward him. Her slightly smug expression irritated, but he forced a smile.

“It seems that Amigo has made his choice,” she said.

Luca gripped the steering wheel. He was searching for an appropriate response when Amigo, crouched at the boy’s knees and licking the two small hands caressing him, gave a sharp yelp and bounded toward the SUV. Luca noted the frustration in Westfield’s face as she grabbed hold of the dog’s collar. It was always easier to bargain when one had the edge.

“I have an idea,” he began. “How about I leave Amigo here for the night? You can talk to Thomas and explain the situation. He’ll have some time to get used to the idea. Maybe even think about getting a replacement for Amigo. I can come back in the morning.”

Her eyes said a lot more than the nod she eventually gave.

“Okay, then. See you tomorrow.” He shifted gears and headed for the highway, glancing in the rearview mirror one last time.

She stood, arms at her side, with Amigo sitting beside her. For some reason, Luca took no satisfaction in his victory.

* * *

KAI SAT ON the edge of Thomas’s bed. He’d retreated to his room with Amigo as soon as Captain Rossi had left and had refused to come downstairs for supper. Kai finally took a tray up to his room and set it on his desk. Thomas was cross-legged on the bed, Amigo curled up next to him.

“I know today was a shock for you, Thomas, and this whole thing with Amigo is upsetting. Remember how I told you about bringing Amigo to the States with me and that I wasn’t able to drop him off at Captain Rossi’s house?”

Thomas nodded, keeping his solemn brown eyes fixed on hers.

“I should have made it clear from the start that Amigo’s stay at the farm might be temporary. I’m sorry about that. The thing is, the day after Grandpa and Grandma went to Columbus, I got an email from the soldier who’d been in charge of Amigo—the man who delivered him to me at the airport in Germany. He told me that he was going to be visiting Captain Rossi and would discuss how Amigo could be eventually returned to him. To Captain Rossi, that is. By then I saw that you and Amigo had become...well...friends, and I wrote back to say that we were fine with Amigo staying on the farm.” Kai hesitated, wondering if she ought to mention Harry’s negative reaction to the dog. She and her mother had tried to keep it from Thomas, knowing how much the boy loved his grandfather.

“Anyway,” she went on, “I didn’t hear back from that soldier, so I assumed everyone was okay with our keeping Amigo. I had no idea Captain Rossi was coming to get him. There must have been some kind of communication mix-up.” Thomas fiddled with Amigo’s collar. “Captain Rossi and Amigo were friends in Afghanistan, where they met. There was some kind of...accident...and Amigo helped save his life. So Captain Rossi...well, he loves Amigo, too, and I think he needs him.”

Thomas’s gaze shifted to the dog snuggled against him. After a long moment, he looked back at her.

Kai took this as a good sign and ended by saying, “Maybe we can persuade Grandma and Grandpa to get a dog. A puppy, perhaps.” His expression told her how lame she sounded. “Okay, then. Well, there’s your supper, and I’ll come back later for the tray.”

Kai paused in the doorway, waiting for some response, but Thomas kept his head bent to Amigo, clearly waiting for her to leave. As she closed the door behind her, she felt she’d blown the whole conversation with her final remark. An hour later she found the tray, its contents half-eaten, on the hallway floor. She quietly opened the door. Although Thomas’s bedtime was still an hour away, his bedside light was out and he seemed to be fast asleep. Amigo leaped off the bed and followed her downstairs.

* * *

BY THE TIME she was walking Thomas up the drive to wait for the bus the next morning, Kai knew the day was going to slide downhill. Amigo ran back and forth, tail wagging as he sniffed the ground. When the bus came, Thomas trudged up the steps without his usual wave goodbye or whistle to Amigo. Kai watched the bus round the bend before heading back to clean up the breakfast remains.

Amigo ran ahead, unaware of the drama unfolding around him, zigzagging all the way to the kitchen door, where he sat, tongue lolling, happy to be outdoors. She wondered if Rossi was still living in that fancy New Jersey house and how Amigo would fit into it; if he would be more welcome arriving there with his master than he had been when she’d shown up on the doorstep. Somehow she doubted it.

By midmorning she’d finished a cursory sweep of the kitchen, taken down the overflowing laundry basket from upstairs so she and Thomas could have some clean clothes and was brewing a fresh pot of coffee when she decided she’d been wrong to assume Rossi would arrive early. Something must be keeping him in Lima. Second thoughts, she hoped. She checked her email for any replies to her ad for temporary workers, but there was none. Her disappointment was eased a bit by a message from the magazine that had sent her to Kuwait, praising her submission and advising her that the balance of her payment had been deposited. There were no other assignments on deck, and Kai knew when her parents returned home, she’d have to scramble to line something up.

Meanwhile, all the electronic diversions available couldn’t save her from the one task she’d been loath to tackle for days. Prepping the tractor. It had sat in the barn for almost a year now.

She changed into the old work coverall she’d had since high school and, before she could change her mind, she pushed open the groaning barn doors. Coughing amid the swirls of dust enveloping her, Kai pulled the tarp away from the machine that had killed her brother.

Its ordinary, familiar appearance—rust spotted and dented—overwhelmed her. She sank onto the edge of the cutter, which was still hooked up to the rear of the tractor, and began to cry. The tears were her first since she’d heard of her father’s stroke, though not the first since her brother’s death. Despite her long absences from her childhood home, she’d missed the family traditions and routines. She’d never thought all that would change and turn upside down. Disappear.

Now there was work to do. She’d tried explaining to her mother why planting was so important, but the fact was Kai could scarcely understand why the notion had become so fixed in her mind. It was doubtful Harry would get back into the soybean business. The farm’s acreage was now too small, and his heart simply wasn’t in it.

Despite knowing her father didn’t really care, Kai persisted. She reasoned that the physical work would be a good diversion from the humdrum of looking after both the house and Thomas. Plus the crop yield, as small as it would be, would pay for some of her father’s rehab expenses. Yet she suspected there was a deeper motive. Perhaps it was her way of making up for all the times this past year when her parents could have used her help and she’d been working either in New York or abroad. Now they needed her, and she had to prove she was capable of taking charge.

So sitting and weeping in a dusty barn was an indulgence. Kai had to smile, realizing her mother might have pointed out exactly that.

* * *

THE FARM LOOKED the same, but felt different. Luca parked in front of the garage and got out. Maybe it was the silence. Yesterday had been all about the drama. By the time he’d returned to Lima, checked into a motel on the outskirts and enjoyed a cold beer and hamburger in a nearby tavern, Luca had fallen onto the motel bed, exhausted. Not so much by the swelling around his knee or the fatigue after his long day of travel, but from the emotion of the whole ordeal. That’s what it had felt like. An ordeal.

First there was Amigo, who was obviously torn between going with him or staying with the kid. And why hadn’t she told the boy that the dog belonged to someone else, and that that someone was coming to get him back?

Okay, so maybe he hadn’t actually spelled out to McDougall that he’d be fetching Amigo or when. McDougall had given him her email address, but Luca hadn’t exactly written to her, advising her of his intentions. He’d certainly thought of doing so. But once he’d decided to come, he’d taken action and carried out his plan. Just as his training had taught him. Decisions and actions needed to follow one another as quickly as possible. Otherwise disaster could result. He’d learned that the hard way.

The silence felt eerie until barking drew his attention to the barn. The big doors were open, and Amigo was running his way.

“Hey, fella.” He bent to pat the dog’s head. “What’s up? Ready to take a drive with me?” Amigo squirmed excitedly before trotting back to the barn, Luca following. He stopped just inside, eyes adjusting to the dimness. Fragments of straw flew up in the wake of his footsteps, and the air was thick with dust motes, trapped in the stream of sun from the doorway. Luca coughed. Amigo turned to look back at him before proceeding to a far corner where Luca could barely make out a large shadow. He walked toward it.

A tractor. Its engine hood was up, which accounted for the strangeness of its shape in the dark barn, and straining over it, Kai Westfield. At least Luca assumed the long legs clad in dingy blue overalls belonged to her.

“Good morning,” he said. She bumped her head against the raised engine hood as she turned around. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

She tossed aside the grease rag in her hand and jumped off the tractor’s bumper. “I thought you’d be here earlier.”

Well, good morning to you, too. Her mood seemed much the same as yesterday. Yet as she came closer, he took in a few subtle changes. Her wariness was now tinged with something that might be resignation, and her eyes, dark-circled, reflected more sadness than anger.

“I indulged in a home-style breakfast up the road a bit from the motel I stayed at. Then checked out some of the town. Or city, I guess, if that’s what it is.” He kicked himself for babbling.

“It’s officially a city, though not a big one. And I bet you ate at Nancy’s Diner. Best breakfast place around.”

Amigo, sitting on the barn floor between them, looked from one to the other. The dog seemed to be waiting for the next move, and Luca decided to let Westfield make it.

“Know anything about tractor engines?”

That surprised him. Maybe she wasn’t as predictable as he’d thought. “Uh, well, I picked up a few mechanical skills in my army stint, though not for tractors.”

Her loud sigh drew Amigo’s gaze to her, and he cocked his head. She swiped a hand across her face, leaving a streak of grease on her cheek. “Well, then,” she went on, sidestepping the dog to edge closer to Luca, “I guess you’re here to collect Amigo and take off.”

He found the statement annoying, considering that was the whole point of his return to the farm, but what really caught his attention was the bitter downturn of her mouth and the way she kept her eyes on Amigo, rather than him.

“That was the idea.”

She turned his way enough for him to see she was welling up.

Great. “Uh, what seems to be the problem with the tractor?” He wanted to change the subject. Anything to avoid dealing with tears.

“I’m not sure, except that it won’t start. It hasn’t been used for almost a year, so I thought maybe the engine needed a cleaning. You know—those spark pluggy things and that.”

“Has it got enough gas?”

“I did check that,” she snapped. Another sigh. “I need to get this going so I can plow the fields. We’re already late.”

We. Of course, McDougall had mentioned she was staying at her parents’ farm. Odd that there had been no sign of anyone else yesterday, except for the boy. “Is there someone here who can help you?”

“I wish.”

He waited for more information. Finally, she added, “My parents are in Columbus at the moment.”

So she was alone on the farm with her young nephew. Luca guessed there was a lot more to her story but decided he didn’t need to get involved. He’d had his fill of problems. “I’m sure there’s a mechanic in Lima who could fix it.”

“I was hoping not to have to bother.” She gave a resigned shrug. “Looks like I have no other choice. So—” a deep breath “—let me get Amigo’s leash and you might as well take the rest of his food. And his bowls.” She started toward the barn door.

Luca glanced down at Amigo, who stared expectantly up at him. “Okay, if you don’t need them. I mean, if you get another dog—”

That stopped her. “There won’t be another dog.” Then she went on, out the door and across the yard.

Sheesh. Be good to leave this place. “C’mon fella,” Luca said, patting Amigo. “Let’s go home.”

He waited for what seemed ages until the door at the side of the house slammed shut and she reappeared with a large plastic shopping bag. Amigo, who’d been nosing around the foundation of the garage, ran to her. She dropped what she was carrying and stooped, hugging the dog and whispering something to him as she ruffled the hair around his ears.

Luca clenched his jaw. Again, the situation was turning into something bigger than he’d expected. And why? Could nothing be simple and straightforward with this woman?

Eventually, she stood and handed him the bag. “There’s enough food for a few days. I put a bottle of water in there, too.” She brushed the legs of her mechanic’s suit and kept her eyes on Amigo.

“Great. Uh, thanks again.”

By the time he reached his car, a dozen random thoughts had flashed through his mind. The one he focused on startled him.

He turned back to her. “Look, if you like, maybe we could drive into Lima and check out a tractor supply place or whatever. See if we can get some spark plugs. If the problem is just replacing them, I might be able to do that. Worth a try, anyway.”

“It’s not really your problem.”

“I’ve got lots of time.”

She thought for a moment. “That would be great. I’ll just go change,” she said, walking back to the side door.

A thank-you would have been nice, was his first thought. The next, sobering one was, What’s happening here? What have you just done, Rossi?


CHAPTER FOUR (#ue69af47e-7f34-527f-85e0-24a4656b251b)

THE DRIVE INTO town was tense. Kai sensed that Luca regretted his offer. She knew she ought to let him off the hook but getting the fields turned over and planted before her parents returned home was her first priority. If she had to humble herself a bit to accomplish that, so be it. As soon as the tractor was up and running, Captain Rossi and—sadly—his dog, could be out of her life.

They pulled into the parking lot at the tractor supply and hardware store. Luca was about to open the rear door of the pickup for Amigo when Kai stopped him.

“We should leave him here, with the window rolled down a bit.”

“Seriously?”

“We left the bag with the leash in it back at the farm. People don’t like unleashed animals coming into their stores.”

“I thought it would be different in the country.”

“Lima isn’t the country,” she pointed out.

“Okay.” He patted the dog’s head and followed her inside.

The place wasn’t busy midweek and late morning. Kai waved to the manager, flipping through a handful of papers behind the all-purpose reception and check-out counter.

“Hi, Bill!”

“Kai! Are you here to put up some more posters? I noticed some of the tear-off strips on the one you brought in a while ago have been taken, but nothing lately.”

“No bites at all, I’m afraid.”

“College kids seem to want jobs wherever they’ve been studying, I think.” He looked past her, just registering the fact that the tall stranger who’d entered the store behind her was actually with her.

She saw the question in his face and said, “This is, uh, a friend. Luca Rossi. He’s helping me get our tractor going.”

“Oh? Pleased to meet you. Bill Hutching.” He gave a nod. “What seems to be the problem with the tractor?”

“It won’t fire,” Kai said. “It hasn’t been used since...well, for almost a year.”

Bill’s face sobered. “Yeah. Right.” He paused a second and added, “It may just need cleaning and new plugs, oil filter and so on. Let me look up the model number. We’ve converted all our records now, so it should be here somewhere.” He turned his attention to the computer on the counter.

Kai noticed Luca wandering along an aisle, checking out the various items on display. He walked in the manner of someone who’d never been inside a machine-parts store as he took the occasional object off a shelf and examined it. She remembered the first time she’d entered a high-end camera shop in New York. Although he didn’t appear as excited as she’d been that day, he was definitely interested. There likely weren’t many farm machinery outlets in that fancy suburb he grew up in.

“Got it,” Bill announced. He jotted down a number and beckoned her to follow.

Luca picked up their trail, closing in behind her until they reached a section at the rear of the store. The back of Kai’s neck prickled, and she rubbed it self-consciously, feeling his eyes on her the whole way.

“Here we are,” Bill said, as he pivoted, pulling objects from the shelves and handing them to Kai and Luca. “That should do it if the problem is a basic tune-up. Anything more, I guess you’ll have to call a mechanic.” He looked at Luca, who merely nodded.

Kai hoped his silence meant he had the situation well in hand, but at the same time, she noted Bill eyeing him skeptically. “For sure!” she exclaimed, breaking the moment.

They trooped back to the cash register, and by the time they left the store, it was well past noon. Kai realized she might have to offer some lunch when they got back to the farm, and while she was making a mental list of the contents of the refrigerator, she heard someone calling her name.

“Kai! Over here!”

A man sitting in a pickup two vehicles over was thumping his palm against the driver’s door to get her attention. Kai stared at the florid, grinning face and uttered a low moan, aware not only of Luca’s expression but of Amigo’s excited barking. Kenny Lewis.

She waved. “Hi, Kenny.”

“Dad told me you were home. Staying long?”

“Maybe a few more weeks. Dad’s doing a rehab program in Columbus.”

“I heard about his stroke. Sorry about that.” He looked past her shoulder, seeming to notice Luca for the first time. “So...anything else new with you?”

Kai forced a smile. “Nope. Just having tractor problems at the moment.”

His attention shifted back to her. “We wondered if you’d get your fields planted this season. You know, after everything.”

“Of course we will.”

His face clouded at the snap in her voice. “Happy to help with anything. Good neighbors and all.”

Good neighbors! “Thanks, but we’ll be fine. Nice to see you,” she lied, turning away to open her door. Amigo greeted her with a loud round of barking.

“Is that your dog? Dad suspected you had a dog at your place.”

A rush of anger overwhelmed her, threatening to spill out all the sorrowful memories she’d been trying to squash since her return to Lima. But before she could reply, Luca answered for her.

“Actually, he’s my dog.”

“Oh.” Kenny looked from Kai to the man on the other side of the car. “Right. Well, maybe see you around then.” He rolled up his window and began reversing out of the lot.

Kai climbed into the front seat, refusing to meet Luca’s eyes. She sat, clasping her hands to stop the trembling, and then turned on the engine.

He cleared his throat as she shifted into reverse.

“Don’t ask,” she said. “Long story.”

“I wasn’t going to. But you need to fasten your seat belt.”

Kai took a deep breath and reached behind for the strap. All the way back to the farm she thought about Bryant Lewis, the tractor, the dog and that day.

* * *

KAI HAD JUST placed ham-and-cheese sandwiches on a plate and poured two glasses of cold water when the rumble of an engine came from the barn. A few chugs and sputters sounded next, followed by silence. Kai waited. It had been more than an hour since Luca had used the bathroom to change into Harry’s old coveralls and headed into the barn. She’d offered to assist, but he’d quietly explained that he liked to “feel my way around a problem, especially a mechanical one.” She could relate to that, knowing how much she hated having someone watch her work on her editing

Then came the sound she was holding her breath for. A loud roar, steady and healthy. Kai smiled. They were set to go. She headed for the barn.

Luca was clearing a path for the tractor’s exit. He didn’t notice her approach until she was a few feet away.

“It sounds great,” she said.

“So far so good, anyway. I’ll take it out for you, unless you—”

“No, that’s fine. I’ve got some lunch ready.”

“Great. Where do you want me to park?” He sat on a wooden crate and swiped his forearm across his face.

“Um, right outside the door, I guess. The way to the fields is behind the barn.”

“Okay. Meet you in the kitchen.”

As he slowly rose to head back to the tractor, she asked, “Do you know where Amigo is?”





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