For Love Of A Dog

“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.