Montana Homecoming

“Sorry, Liam, but that’s only the tip of the iceberg. You are going to require a lot of training before you deserve this guy.” Laughing, seeking refuge in humor instead of her feelings, she brushed her fingertips across the soft fur of Oscar’s neck.

Relief squeaked through the dog’s tight-sounding throat. His tongue lashed out, swiping across her face one, two, three times so fast she could barely pull away as the fourth one hit her. Raw ground beef dog breath. She shook her head. All part of the job. “I say you should feed this guy. Don’t waste any time. Where’s his kibble?”

“Look around.” Liam swept his hand to the floor, where pieces of dried dog food were scattered over the entire span of the linoleum. It had been flung under the lip of the cabinets, tossed into the corners and tucked beneath the debris of what was once an organized kitchen.

“Oscar.” The pictures hadn’t told the full story. Everything had been knocked off the counters. Even the magnets from the refrigerator’s front panel. “You’re a nut. You know that?”

Oscar’s single bark reverberated through the kitchen, just short of deafening. He looked happy to be understood at last.

“What about us?” Liam tugged open the pantry door and unrolled the food bag. Oscar’s ears went up. His nose hiked into the air, sniffing. His tail thumped hard on the ground before he launched across the kitchen, nails clipping fast. Food rushed into a red plastic dog bowl. “You and I are going to have to eat something. We’ve got to keep up our strength if we’re going to keep up with Oscar.”

“Is he even chewing?”

“Nah. I think he’s inhaling it whole. Hope it all goes down all right without getting clogged. Do you know the Heimlich for dogs?”

“I do. The bowl’s already empty. Incredible.”

“Oscar’s got skills. Not necessarily good ones.” Liam rolled up the bag and hid it in the pantry, making sure the door was securely closed. “Maybe it would be good to get him out of the house. Say, go for a ride?”

“Woof!” Oscar danced at the word, big chocolate eyes sparkling with excitement. He raced to the back door so fast, his hind legs skidded out from under him. “Woof!”

“It’s too late to disappoint him now.” Liam pulled a ring of keys from his trouser pocket. “C’mon.”

“I’m in charge of this training session.” Really, she had to hold her ground. She had to keep control because something felt very, very off. Maybe it was the way laugher made his expressive eyes glitter. Or the rolling lilt of his chuckle, inviting and contagious and ending in a deep masculine rumble. Whatever it was, she had to remain unaffected. Remote. Steel.

“I’m not in charge, either,” Liam quipped, “so it’s only fair. Are you hungry?”

“You mean we’re going out to eat?”

“We’ll have to since there’s nothing here, not anymore.” He unhooked the looped leash from a hook on the wall and clipped it to Oscar’s collar, not that the dog could stand still. He danced, he hopped, he barked. “It’ll be fun.”

“Fun? I don’t doubt that.” Oscar was a laugh a minute. Her feet decided for her. They pulled her inexorably toward the man and his dog. The door opened, Oscar coiled up like a spring. The moment he had enough room he hurled through the door in one mighty leap that took Liam with him. There was a clatter and a boom.

“Are you all right?” She poked her head out the door to see the barbecue grill land on its side on the deck. Did that stop Oscar? Not a chance. Like the lead dog on an Iditarod team, he half dragged, half pulled Liam to a big blue truck.

“Lock up, would you?” Liam’s call carried on the wind. With a bonk, Oscar’s front paw went up on the side of the truck, whining to be let in.

She had her work cut out for her. She twisted the lock button on the inside of the knob, backed onto the deck and closed the door. Sweet Montana breezes ruffled her hair as she turned into the sunshine, feeling light as air. Robins hopped along lush green grass looking for their dinners, and larks twittered from overhead branches as she skirted the downed barbecue and descended the steps toward Liam, who was waiting for her on the other side of the gate.

“I’m glad you signed on for this.” He held the door open, his smile wide and as attractive as a toothpaste commercial. He looked far too fine of a man and she felt uncomfortable. Way too close to him.

She could feel the soft fan of his breath on her neck. His hand closed around her elbow to help boost her up into the truck. Definitely too close. Panic licked through her.

“I can’t imagine anyone being as understanding with Oscar. Thank you.” The deep tones of his voice rumbled smoothly, calm and easygoing. “I tuned in to one of those dog training shows on cable and it scared me a little.”

“Sure, because you look scared.” She slid onto the seat, trying not to notice the panic galloping through her. He let go, she could breathe, glad to be back in her comfort zone again. “I guess it depends on the kind of relationship you want with your dog.”

“Right? That’s what I think. I’m not into the militant alpha dog thing. I’m just hoping he won’t wreck my house while I’m gone. Is that too much to ask?”

“Who knows?” she quipped. “We’ll have to find out.”

“If you, the dog trainer, don’t have faith, then who does?” He shut the door for her, framed by the partially open window.

Oscar barked, poked his nose over the seatback and swiped her across the jaw with his tongue. He hopped up and down on the seat like a puppy, watching as his new master circled around the truck, unable to take his doggy gaze from Liam. Those big chocolate eyes reflected a big heart full of love.

That was Oscar’s problem, she realized, watching the man climb into his seat, buckle up and plug keys into the ignition. What must it have been like to have been locked up at the shelter? To watch people wander by the kennels and choose other dogs, leaving him behind? What must it have felt like to wonder if anyone would ever want you?

Oscar must have been so relieved and overjoyed when Liam had chosen him, kind and easygoing Liam. It showed in those doggy eyes.

She twisted around in the seat to rub Oscar’s head. He bumped up into her hand, panting hard, tongue lolling. Happiness emanated from him with such force, he trembled.

“Are you ready to roll, buddy?” Liam put the truck in gear, watching in the rearview mirror as the dog rocked back onto his haunches, sitting like a good boy. An ear-splitting bark echoed around the passenger compartment in response. “Okay. Then let’s go. Brooke, I hope you like Mr. Paco’s Tacos.”

“Are you kidding? It’s a family favorite.”

“Good to hear because they give the best dog treats in their drive-thru.” He guided the truck down the narrow concrete driveway and onto the tree-lined street. He zipped down the side passenger window halfway so Oscar could stick his nose out and breathe in all those scents as the street went by. “Now where were we?”

“When?”

“Before Oscar interrupted us. I was about to question you some more. Figure out the real Brooke McKaslin. Yes, I remember where I was. Why don’t you live closer to your family?”

“Which family, that’s the question.” She leaned back in her seat, lowering her window, letting the wind play with the ends of her hair. She looked stunning in a simple green summery top and denim shorts, more beautiful than any girl next door he’d ever known. Twice as wholesome, twice as sweet. “I grew up near Miles City but I haven’t been back to that part of Montana since I was just out of high school.”

She faked a smile, but she probably didn’t mean to—she probably thought she pulled it off but he could read the sorrow in her eyes. It was sadness so brief he could have imagined it. She crossed her ankles, sitting prim and as pretty as a picture in a magazine.

“My mom still lives there,” she explained. “Marriage to my father embittered her. She grew hard after their divorce. Over the years she’s become someone I hardly know. She has her own life. We don’t talk much.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Is that why Lil dotes on you?”

“Lil dotes on everyone and I’m grateful for that. She was there for me when my mom wasn’t.” She bit her bottom lip, perhaps debating whether to stay silent or to say more. He could read between the lines—it wasn’t that tough to imagine how painful the rift was between mother and daughter. Again, the pain crossing her face flashed briefly, just one single glimpse before it was gone. “My dad got out of jail not long ago. He was arrested for counterfeiting.”

“You don’t have the all-American family?”

“Not even close.” She shrugged her slender shoulders, as if her troubles were not a big deal in the scale of things. “My older brothers are wonderful. They’ve stood beside me, and they’ve never let me down. We were close growing up.”

“Yeah? What was that like?” He turned at the end of the street, taking the residential route. Oscar kept entertained dashing between the windows, seeing a squirrel out one window, and racing along the backseat to whine at a cat out the other.

“It wasn’t all that interesting. I’ll bore you.”

“Not even close. I’m riveted. See?”

Her smile could kick-start his heart if he ever found himself in need of a defibrillator. She rolled her eyes. “Before Dad left us, he’d treated Mom pretty badly. We were glad to see him go. He didn’t work hard at keeping in contact with us. He was too busy stringing Lil along, promising marriage and I don’t know what else. I know he hurt her terribly.”

“So you didn’t know Lil when you were younger?”

“Not really. We were doing all we could to hold on to the family farm. In the end, we couldn’t. Dad had taken a second mortgage out on it when the land values ballooned, right before he took off.”

That’s all he needed to know about Brooke’s dad. She didn’t deserve a father like that, one who let her down. “That’s rough. It sounds like he didn’t treat Lil any better.”