Miami Attraction

The dog refused to leave her side, even as the blood from her own injuries coated her fur and dripped onto the concrete. That night, she’d promised the dog a home for life. No one would ever separate them. And now, for the first time she was about to break that promise.

Sure, she took trips to do speaking engagements, but Angel had always remained safe and sound in her own home, knowing Mikayla would return. But this was different. This time, Angel would be living away from her home for two months, and Mikayla had no way to assure her she would return.

She felt like the worst kind of betrayer. Hearing the door open behind her, she swiped at her eyes. This was going to be the longest two weeks of her life.

“Okay, she’s all settled in.” Dusty came up beside her, and the surprised look on his face told her she had not gotten rid of all the evidence of her sorrow.

“Hey, relax. I promise you, Angel’s going to be just fine. I’ve been training dogs for over ten years. I know what I’m doing.”

She forced a smile. “I’m sure you do.”

“Come on.” He gestured to a nearby golf cart. “I want to show you something.”

The pair climbed in and Dusty guided the cart toward his house. The closer they came to the house, the more her tension grew.

“Where are we going?” she asked, looking directly at his house in the distance.

Despite the fact that he was certain she knew, still he pointed to the house. “My home. I have some friends there I want you to meet.”

Her eyes widened in terror, and Dusty could literally feel her fear like it was a tangible thing.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean friends you want me to meet—I just met you!”

“It’s okay, trust me.” Dusty was split between her reaction and the strong emotions swirling in the atmosphere around his head. It was the most bizarre thing, but he knew with complete certainty he was feeling her emotions. And what she was feeling was not good.

“Trust you? I don’t even know you!”

He stopped the cart, and she was instantly out of it, walking quickly back up the hill toward the hospital.

“Mikayla!” he called to her, then turned the cart around and followed until he could come up beside her. “Did I say something wrong?”

She shook her head. “I just remembered something I have to do.”

He stopped the cart again. “I just wanted to introduce you to my dogs!” he called after her.

She stopped in her tracks. She turned to look at him. “Your dogs?”

He hopped out of the cart and walked to her. “I thought if you saw them and heard how far they had come it would be encouraging to you.”

The heavy air surrounding them began to thin as she smiled. “Your dogs.”

The calm expression on her pretty face could not wipe away the terror she’d felt a moment ago. He’d felt it as surely as she did. It was the strangest phenomenon he’d ever experienced, but he knew it was real.

He gestured to the cart. “Do you have time?”

She nodded and climbed back into the cart.

As they approached the house, Mikayla could see it was even bigger than she’d thought. “Wow, what a beautiful home.”

“Thank you.” He stepped out of the cart and waited for her to join him. Together they went along the side of the large house, to the backyard where three dogs, a Labrador retriever, a German shepherd and a Chihuahua all lay on the large open deck, bathing in the sun.

The three together, so different and yet seeming in perfect synch, made a comical trio, and Mikayla couldn’t help but smile.

Dusty gestured to the open area around his house. “As you can see, there is no fence to keep them in. In fact, they are pretty much given free run of the ranch, but nonetheless most days this is where you will find them.

“The big guy is Athos.” He gestured to the German shepherd. “The Labrador is Porthos, and—”

“And let me guess, the Chihuahua is Aramis.”

He smiled in return. “Good guess.”

“The Three Musketeers.”

“After watching them together for a while, I could come up with no better names.”

“Did you get them all at the same time?”

“Yes, and…” His smile faded. “And all were meant to be bait in dog fights.”

She glanced back at the dogs resting on the porch. Only Aramis seemed to be aware of their presence. He lifted his little head and sniffed the air. Satisfied with what he found, he plopped is head back down on the deck.

“When they were rescued, they were all slated to be put down for different reasons. Aramis there was deemed in too bad a shape to survive. Athos had become extremely aggressive and Porthos is said to have psychological problems.

“Even though they thought I was crazy I talked the rescue shelter into letting me adopt them. I brought them home and worked with them. With a little love, time and attention I made them into the worthless fleabags you see before you.”

She laughed. “Wow, what an improvement.”

His smiled faded. “Actually, it is.”

He crossed the yard and once he came into their line of vision all three dogs rose to greet him. “My point is that with a little love, time and attention I think any dog can be retrained.” He sat down on a stair and the dogs surrounded him, with Aramis wiggling past the two bigger dogs to climb onto Dusty’s lap. “You just have to give them a sense of security and safety. Something these dogs had never had.”

Mikayla followed him to the porch and the three dogs wandered over to sniff out the stranger. “I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t give you the impression that I doubted your level of compassion. I don’t. It’s just…” She paused, petting Porthos’s soft gold head and thinking of how much to say to this man who was still a stranger. “Just like you chose their names because it suited them. I named her Angel for a reason.”

Dusty watched her as some light of recognition came into his eyes. “I understand.” He nodded. “Just give me two weeks and see if you don’t see a world of difference.”

She frowned and rubbed Athos under his furry chin.

“What?” Dusty was watching her with narrowed eyes. “What are you thinking?”

She shrugged. “It’s just—I know Angel, and she has a tendency to be…how do I put it? Stubborn.”

Dusty smiled. “So am I.”

“And don’t let her scruffy appearance fool you—she’s very intelligent.”

“Most dogs are.”