The Sergeant's Matchmaking Dog
Author
Carrie Nichols
Reads
18.1K
Chapters
16
Chapter One
“C’mon, what’s wrong with that one? Looks like a perfectly good bush to me.” Former marine staff sergeant Gabe Bishop sighed as he glanced at what seemed like an endless row of forsythia bushes. Their bright yellow blooms created a natural fence between the still-dormant grass of someone’s lawn and the cracked concrete of the sidewalk where he stood.
“Just pick one...any one...” He rubbed a hand over the scratchy stubble peppering his chin. “Please.”
Suspending his search for the perfect spot to relieve himself, Radar lifted his head to give Gabe a long-suffering look. As if his human companion should understand the protocols by now.
“I should be training you—” Gabe yawned “—not the other way around.”
He still had to lug in all those storage boxes crowded in the back of his Jeep Sahara. But what he longed for most was a hot shower after being on the road for close to twenty hours, fueled by truck-stop coffee and a quick nap at a rest area.
The animal went back to examining the bushes and Gabe sighed again. “You can bet marine dogs perform on command.”
Radar whined his displeasure and Gabe regretted the disparaging remark. The dog might bear an uncanny resemblance to the Belgian Malinois the military favored, but Radar had been only the camp mutt, a mascot of sorts. Despite the circumstances, Gabe considered Radar’s contribution to their squad every bit as valuable as sniffing for explosives. Radar’s mere presence had boosted the morale of those men and women stationed so far from home, family and everything familiar.
Gabe might have told himself he’d been honoring a promise while he fought bureaucratic red tape to get the dog stateside, but that was simply an excuse.
The truth was he hated to think of what Radar’s fate might have been if he’d been abandoned after command had ordered the evacuation of their forlorn desert outpost. Yeah, like he wouldn’t have done his damnedest—promise or no—to get Radar to safety.
Radar had never been an active marine, and since his honorable discharge last Friday, neither was he. Even if he was no longer addressed as SSgt. Bishop in daily life, that identity would always be a part of him. A rank he was proud to have attained. Once a marine, always a marine. Oo-rah!
The irony didn’t escape him that civilian Gabe was a lot like Radar—searching for a perfect bush. Huh. “Sorry, buddy. I—”
A drilling clatter had him tensing and scanning his surroundings for anomalies. Same blue-collar neighborhood lined mostly with single-family brick ranches and a few duplexes like his rental unit. Nothing had changed from five minutes ago. So, what—?
The noise sounded again. Spotting a red-bellied woodpecker drumming an aluminum rain gutter, Gabe relaxed his guard and snorted a laugh. Looked like Radar wasn’t the only one intent on marking his territory this sunny April afternoon.
He shook his head. Such vigilance. What had he been expecting? This was Loon Lake, a place that travel brochures had dubbed quintessential New England. It boasted of a grass-covered town square and the ubiquitous eighteenth-century white clapboard church with a soaring steeple. Brick-fronted small businesses with colorful awnings and antique-looking streetlights crowded along Main Street. Despite appearances, the awnings and white-globed lamps were new.
Gabe grinned. How much squabbling had taken place before the town council voted to approve those lamps? He may have been barely twenty when he’d left for basic, but he knew residents enjoyed nothing better than arguing over mundane details. Pa had come home from those meetings grumbling about—
Radar pulled on the lead, jerking Gabe out of his thoughts and back to practical matters, like getting back to the rented duplex to finish unpacking so he could settle in and begin his new life. Whatever that might look like. With his pa gone, he had no relatives in Loon Lake, but the town was still home.
He tried to turn them around, but Radar dropped down on his belly in the middle of the sidewalk. Gabe tugged again on the leash, but the dog wouldn’t budge.
“What have I told you about mission creep?” he asked, referring to a shift in objectives that resulted in further commitment and time. The dog whined and Gabe shook his head. “Fine, a couple more blocks, but that’s it. I can haul your seventy-five-pound butt home if I have to. Don’t think I won’t.”
Radar rose and did a full-body shake, his tags jingling merrily. Gabe narrowed his eyes at the dog’s actions—looked like this human needed to practice his alpha-dog skills. They continued to the end of the street and turned to follow the sidewalk along a wider, busier road.
Sure, they didn’t have to worry about snipers or improvised explosive devices, but being so exposed made his scalp prickle. He disliked that feeling of being watched, even benignly, and he’d already pegged the woman across the street as a curtain twitcher.
At least no one had shown up on his doorstep with casseroles or baked goods—yet. And with any luck, they wouldn’t. He’d had enough handouts in his childhood to last a lifetime.
“Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, dog. Why come home if I wanted to avoid attention?” Truth was he’d been yearning for something familiar, and his memories of growing up in Loon Lake weren’t all bad. And frankly, after being away for a decade, he assumed the residents’ memories of the kid with the free lunches and hand-me-down clothes would have dimmed. Even if the legacy of the teen who’d learned to cover embarrassment by acting tough and getting into trouble hadn’t been erased.
After Radar had marked a tree, a lamppost and an azalea bush—apparently those were acceptable—Gabe succeeded in coaxing him to head toward home. As they approached their street, a school bus stopped with a squeal of the air brakes and a hiss as the pneumatic door swung open. Hoping to get away before any kids got off, he pulled on the leash, but Radar sat on his haunches, once again refusing to move. Damn, but he was going to have to establish who was in charge in this relationship.
The dog stared intently at the bus, his ears thrust forward. When he whined, Gabe gave him a pat on the head. “I guess this is your first time seeing one of those, huh?”
A bespectacled boy wearing a gray T-shirt, jeans and black Chuck Taylor high-tops bounded off the steps. The kid’s mouth formed a giant O and he made a beeline toward them, his backpack bouncing around his thin shoulders. Gabe zeroed in on that backpack and tensed, but Radar whimpered and pressed against him, grounding him, bringing him back to the moment and their surroundings.
“What a cool dog, mister.” The boy, who appeared to be around six or seven, dropped to his knees and thrust out a hand to pet Radar on the head. “Is it a he or a she? What’s his name? Is he yours? What kind is it?”
As Gabe was trying to decide which question to answer first, running footsteps pounded on the pavement behind them. Reacting to the threat, he spun around. A woman sprinted toward them, a blond ponytail tied high on her head bouncing along behind her. He assumed a protective crouch and unconsciously reached for his hip—for the weapon that had been his constant companion for the past decade.
Radar whined and once again broke the spell. Although the dog hadn’t acted in any official capacity, he’d alerted them to enemy advances on the compound, saving them from surprise attacks. But no hostiles or suicide bombers looking to kill them here. Trying to get his heart out of his throat, he swallowed and straightened up.
“Theodore Andrew Miller, what do you think you’re doing?” The woman skidded to a stop, her pink-and-purple sneakers scattering pebbles. She gulped in air. “What have I told you about approaching strange animals?”
“But it’s not a strange animal. It’s a dog.” The boy scrunched up his face, and the tops of his brown-framed eyeglasses shot past his eyebrows. “See?”
Gabe coughed to disguise the laugh that had bubbled up, and the woman threw an angry scowl in his direction. She had pale blue eyes, a small turned-up nose and freckles sprinkled high across her cheeks. And, oh yeah, she was spitting mad. And kind of young to be this kid’s mother. But who was he to judge? Especially considering his past.
“Teddy, I saw you rushing up to him with your hand out,” she said. “That dog could’ve bitten your fingers off.”
Her scolding may have been directed at the boy, but Gabe bristled as if those words had been tossed his way. People could think what they wanted about him, but he wasn’t about to allow anyone to label Radar a menace. “Ma’am, my dog wouldn’t hurt anybody.”
She dismissed his words with a wave of her hand. “How was Teddy supposed to know that?”
Okay, so she had a point. He scratched the scruff on his cheek, debating how best to proceed. “If it helps, I’m not a complete stranger to—”
“You’re a stranger to us,” she said, critically eyeing him up and down as if he and his dog didn’t belong on this well-tended street.
“Excuse me, ma’am, but my dog is leashed as required by law. Your boy approached us, not the other way around. So, if anyone’s to blame, it’s him.” Heat crept up his neck and settled in his cheeks. Could he get any lower, shifting fault to a kid? Even if it was the truth.
The boy held up a hand, turning it over several times, and Gabe winced at the burn scars on both sides.
“See,” he said. “The dog didn’t bite me.”
“This time,” the woman said.
“Will your dog be happy to see me from now on, just like today, mister?” The boy plunged his fingers into the thick fur on Radar’s neck.
Gabe nodded, but there wouldn’t be a “from now on” if he could help it. He planned on a hassle-free civilian life. His immediate future would consist of finding a job and maybe catching up with a few friends from school.
“See? It’s okay because the doggy’s going to be nice to me the next time too,” the boy said, sounding like that settled the matter. Radar drummed his tail on the sidewalk, and the kid gave him a hug.
The woman closed her eyes, and her lips moved as if she were counting or praying for patience at the child’s literal directness. Gabe cleared his throat, and her eyes flew open.
“Teddy, you know better than to talk to strangers. Especially ones with—” she threw another mistrustful glance at Radar “—dogs.”
Gabe tightened his fingers around the leash. Okay, now he was pissed. He may have found her appealing in a fresh-faced, wholesome sort of way, but her attitude was sticking in his craw. “Look, lady, I don’t know what you have against dogs, but—”
“I have nothing against dogs,” she rushed to supply. “But, as I’ve explained to Teddy, some predators use them to lure unsuspecting children. It, uh, it was nothing personal,” she said, a slight blush spreading across her cheeks, highlighting all those tiny freckles. “I apologize if it came across as an insult.”
He clamped his mouth shut on the stinging retort that had sprung to his lips. Huh. Her reasoning made sense. How could he argue against child safety? He wouldn’t, because he was leaving, getting away from her, her strangely alluring freckles and her kid. He’d go home and take that shower and clean up as he’d planned before Radar had hijacked the mission.
Aside from moving and opening the rest of those storage boxes, the most drama scheduled for today was plopping on the couch and watching some spring baseball, maybe sipping a cold brew. Whether that cold brew would be coffee or beer had yet to be determined. His gaze roamed over the woman and those blue eyes shooting fire at him.
Beer was in the lead.
“You weren’t even at the stop when the bus came,” the kid said, as if sensing a weakness he could exploit.
“You’re right—that’s my fault. That last batch of cupcakes took longer to bake than I anticipated.” She grimaced. “And, of course, this is the first time in a month that damn bus has been on time.”
Gasping, the boy unfolded and sprang up like a marionette whose strings had been pulled taut. “Uh-oh, you have to put a quarter in the jar for using that word. You made me last week, so it’s only fair that you do too.”
“I have a feeling I owe more than a quarter after nearly suffering a heart attack. C’mon, Teddy, we need to get home.” She held out her hand, her gaze darting between the boy and Radar.
The kid scowled. “But I didn’t even get to find out the dog’s name or nothin’.”
“His name’s Radar,” Gabe told him. Maybe that would pacify the child and he’d allow her to lead him away.
“There. You know his name. Let’s go.” She had a death grip on the boy’s hand and began marching away but threw a cautious glance over her shoulder.
Teddy twisted around and raised his free hand. “Bye, Radar. Bye, mister.”
“What happened to the jacket you had on this morning?” the woman asked as they walked away.
“I dunno... Musta left it at school.” The response drifted back to them, and Radar gave a low woof, then whined.
“Listen to you.” Gabe rubbed the soft fur behind the dog’s ears. “You’d think you were losing your best friend in the world.”
The woman was saying something, but they were too far away to make out the words, and Radar whined again.
“Forget it, dog,” Gabe muttered. “We don’t need any part of whatever they’ve got going on. From now on, we’re in a no-drama zone.”
Radar looked to the pair and then back, tilting his head. Gabe clucked his tongue. “What makes you think I’m even interested?”
Wagging his tail and panting, Radar pressed against Gabe’s leg.
“Okay, sure, she’s cute and I didn’t see a wedding ring.” Yeah, okay, he might’ve checked. He noisily blew out air between his lips. Why did he do something as silly as scan for a sign that she was off-limits? He wasn’t even looking for any sort of relationship.
Radar made a nonmenacing growling noise deep in his throat.
“Look, even if she’s single, she can’t be more than early twenties. That’s too young.” Are you sure? his inner voice taunted. Because the way that heart-shaped butt filled out those jeans and those hips swayed as she walked away didn’t look too young.
Radar started forward as the pair put more distance between them, and Gabe tightened his grip on the leash. Glancing up, Radar tried out his forlorn life-is-so-unfair whimper. How was a guy supposed to hold out against that oh-so-expressive head tilt and impressive vocal range?
“Forget it. I’m not in the market. Even if I was—which I’m not—my thirty going on fifty is definitely too old for all that fresh-faced innocence.” He snorted. Was this what his life had come to? From maintaining the discipline and efficiency of the men under his command with field training exercises to arguing with a dog over a woman?
Radar auditioned a different sound, but Gabe stood firm. “What do you know? You’re a dog. My guess is she had your undying devotion when she mentioned she baked cupcakes.”
He patted Radar on the head and exhaled. “Temptation, thy name is woman.”
Radar looked up at him and Gabe shook his head. “Yeah, I have no idea where that came from either.”
But he did know the blonde walking away was temptation, and in his experience, that path generally ended with trouble.
Thankfully, those scrapes were nothing more than teenage antics, like the time he’d tried to hijack a rival school’s stuffed mascot. Those shenanigans could be traced back to his desire to impress a certain cheerleader. Tracy Harris. Yeah, he’d impressed himself right into a shotgun wedding upon graduation.
He knew better now, and this woman, with that sweet face, had to be the kind of woman who was all in...marriage, kids and forever. So he was going to avoid her—and temptation. Getting the rest of his life on a good track was his first—and last—priority.
He had enough old mistakes on his conscience.He didn’t want any new ones.
Been there. Done that.
Even though Teddy was unharmed, Addie Miller’s heart continued its staccato rhythm as they headed toward home. Seeing her brother running up to that humongous dog and being too far away to do anything had scared the holy—Oops! She owed the swear jar enough quarters for one day. Nothing like feeling helpless to bring out her potty mouth. She may have needed that tough exterior as protection in the past, but now that she was responsible for Teddy, she needed to set a good example.
Inappropriate language aside, she’d had to acknowledge the sickening truth. If something had happened to Teddy today, the blame would’ve been hers and hers alone. How could she have allowed baking cupcakes—or anything at all—to distract her?
Queasiness roiled her stomach. Were her promises meaningless too? Was this how she made up for not being there for Teddy in the past?
If he’d gotten mauled by a dog or snatched by a stranger, that would make her no better than their mother, Michelle. And she’d owe an apology to those social workers who’d warned her she’d been ill-equipped to take on such an enormous responsibility, caring for her much younger half brother at her age. She couldn’t magically change how many years she’d been on this earth, but she could step up and do what was necessary.
She glanced at Teddy’s hand in hers and, seeing the burn scars marring his hand and wrist, choked back a sob. Although she’d been away at college when he’d plunged his hands into scalding hot water, she blamed herself for not being there to prevent it. The fact her brother’s care had been her mother’s responsibility, and not hers, never mattered one whit to Addie’s conscience.
“Addie?” Teddy squeezed her hand and frowned. “It’s okay. Radar didn’t hurt me. He was a really, really nice doggy,” he added in a wistful tone.
Addie blinked against the burn in her eyes. “I’m sure he was, but—”
“—dogs are expensive,” he finished for her and kicked a pebble across the sidewalk until it disappeared into a thicket of forsythia bushes. “Joey Johnson said people give puppies away for free when they don’t want them. Maybe we could get one like that.”
“Even if we did, veterinary care costs lots of money.” Her conscience was a hot poker, jabbing her for using the trite excuse. “It wasn’t just about the dog, sweetie. That man you spoke to was a stranger. Do you remember how I’ve asked you not to talk to strangers?”
Teddy’s chin hiked up. “You talked to him.”
“Yes, I did, but I’m an adult and—”
He pulled his hand from her grip, crossed his arms over his chest and stuck them under his armpits. “But you’re my sister. How come you get to act all adult? Make rules for me and stuff like that? Joey’s older sister doesn’t do that.”
Because you deserve a responsible adult in your life. Tag, she was it. “I was lucky enough to be born first, and you know how much I like having you live with me. You know that, don’t you?”
He nodded but stuck out his lower lip. “But it’s still not fair.”
Life rarely is. She ruffled his hair, a gesture Teddy said was for babies, but even as he ducked to get away, she saw his lips twitch as he fought a smile.
“If you like having me live with you so much, why won’t you let me walk home from the bus stop alone?” His expression turned calculating. “I’m big enough, and besides, all the kids on the bus laugh because they know you’re my sister.”
Her stomach flip-flopped. She understood that he might find her presence embarrassing. How many times had Michelle embarrassed her by showing up at school functions high, inappropriately dressed or hanging off the arm of some guy who was most likely her dealer? Oh, how she’d longed for a mom who volunteered to bake cupcakes for school parties or chaperoned field trips.
She sighed. Was it too much to ask that Teddy wait until after the hearing for permanent custody to go through a rebellious phase? She didn’t trust their mother to keep her word about not fighting it. The family counselor she’d spoken with had assured her that Teddy’s actions were a good thing. Testing boundaries meant he felt safe living with her. “I understand how you feel, sweetie, but maybe we—”
“Hey, look! Radar is following us.”
She whipped around, and sure enough, the man and his dog had closed the distance between them. This time she concentrated on the owner. He was at least two, maybe three, inches over six feet, with thick brown hair that spiked on top but was cut shorter on the sides. He had straight dark eyebrows above a hawk nose and generous lips surrounded by a thick sprinkling of dark stubble. How had she not noticed he had the most amazing hazel eyes? Or that despite the dusty and torn clothing, he didn’t look as disreputable as she’d first assumed. How had she not noticed any of those details before now?
Maybe because the dog had scared the crap out of you. Still does.
She turned back to her brother. “Teddy, why don’t you run on ahead? I frosted a cupcake for you and set it aside. And you can play some Mario Kart.”
“Why?” Teddy’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “What’s going on that you don’t want me to know about?”
“Nothing is going on.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. To think she’d been thankful when Teddy had started coming out of his shell, had started feeling comfortable enough to question her. “You’re the one always begging me for more video-game time.”
“But I want to see where Radar is going.”
So did she. She’d resided here long enough to know everyone on the street at least well enough to wave when they drove by.
And she’d definitely remember both of them.
