For Love Of A 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.