Worth Fighting For

“I don’t even want her to meet him, let alone spend unsupervised time with him.” Caitlin’s stomach tossed and turned, threatening to upchuck her breakfast and the coffee she’d drank.

“Let’s not worry until we have something to worry about, all right?”

That was easy for the attorney to say.

Caitlin glanced out the door, spotting Emily as she stood on Gerald and Mary’s porch—unaware of the father who threatened her future.

Emily smiled as the morning sunshine warmed her face. She liked being outside. But even more than that, she liked being a big girl and no longer a baby.

A bird called from the big tree on the grass. And an engine roared to a start from the carport.

It was fun to be outdoors alone. To be ’sponsible enough to go get Scruffy all by herself.

She knocked again at the Blackstone’s door, this time really hard because Mary and Gerald didn’t hear very good.

A minute later Gerald answered. “Why hello, Emily.” He looked all around. “Where’s your mommy?”

“She’s talking on the phone. But she said I could come and get Scruffy all by myself and take him to my house to play. And when she’s all done talking, we can go on our walk.”

“You’re sure getting to be a big girl,” Harvey said.

Emily was glad to know he thought so, too.

Scruffy barked, as he came running, wagging his bushy tail like he was really happy to see her. That’s why Emily loved the little dog. ’Cause he always kissed her face until it was all wet.

She giggled, then plopped down to her knees and let Scruffy welcome her with wags and licks and little whines.

“How about a treat?” Mary asked her. “I just baked a fresh batch of oatmeal cookies with raisins.”

“No, thank you. My tummy is all filled up with breakfast.” Emily pooched out her stomach and rubbed it. “See?”

“Maybe after your walk.”

Emily nodded.

“Hold on a minute, Scruffy.” Mr. Blackstone stooped, as he snapped the hook onto the squirmy little dog’s collar, then handed Emily the leash. “Have a good time on your walk, sweetheart.”

“I will.” Emily gave Scruffy a big hug. “Okay, let’s go get Mommy.”

As Gerald closed his door, and Emily took Scruffy down the steps, the doggie pulled her onto the grass, so he could go potty. When he was all done, he started to run for the sidewalk, where Mommy and Emily usually walked. But Emily pulled him back. “Not yet, Scruffy. We gotta wait for Mommy.”

Scruffy was sad, but he obeyed Emily. And that made her happy. As they walked toward Emily’s house, Scruffy spotted a butterfly on the flower bush by the front door. He barked and wagged his tail.

Emily had to use both hands to hold him back. “Silly, you can’t play with butterflies. God made them for us to look at. Isn’t this one pretty?”

She studied the yellow and black wings. It was one of the prettiest she’d ever seen that wasn’t in a picture book.

When they went on walks, Mommy let Emily and Scruffy look at things like rolly-pollies, the little gray bugs that rolled into balls when they were shy or scared.

Maybe it was okay to stay in the front yard. Mommy couldn’t get mad at that. Besides, Emily wouldn’t go anywhere ’cept stay on the lawn.

The butterfly flew away, toward Greg’s house, where Brett was staying.

He was a nice man, just like Greg. And he’d said she could come over and visit Fred.

She got a good idea that made her smile. Maybe Brett and Fred wanted to take a walk with them.

Emily didn’t know if Fred had a leash, like Scruffy did, but Brett could carry him.

“Come on, Scruffy. Let’s go see our neighbors.”

Brett rolled over in bed, taking the pillow and placing it over his head, blocking out the sunlight that pierced through a bent slat in the blinds.

There weren’t too many mornings when he had the luxury of sleep. Besides, he’d stayed awake last night, long after he’d left Caitlin’s house.

He wasn’t exactly sure why he couldn’t sleep. Thoughts of his son, he supposed. And the little moppet next door. Crayon drawings on refrigerators. Pretty moms he shouldn’t allow to get too close.

And when he’d finally hit the sheets, he’d dreamed of tropical breezes, setting suns and an attractive blonde who made a guy want to take a romantic, moonlit swim in the South Pacific.

The doorbell sounded, and he had half a notion to ignore it—until it rang over and over.

He cursed under his breath and climbed from bed. As a second thought, he slipped on a pair of sweatpants. Brett always slept in the raw, and there was no need to flash Greg’s neighbors. Or a salesman.

Damn, he wanted to clobber whoever was leaning on the bell.

He flung open the door with a little more force than necessary, ready to snap at whoever had rudely awakened him. But when he found Emily and a little brown mutt standing on the porch, he slowly shook his head. A grin tugged at his lips.

So much for wanting to clobber whoever had been his wake-up call.

Little Emily, with her eyes glimmering, the sunlight glistening in her hair, held the dog’s leash with both hands and flashed him a bubbly smile. “Hi, Brett.”

“Hello there,” he told the little cutie dressed in yellow and orange overalls. He scanned the yard, but didn’t see anyone. “Where’s your mom?”

“She’s on the phone,” the child said. “We’re going for a walk. Do you want to go with us?”

From behind him, the psycho cat hissed.

Emily brightened, transferred the leash to her left hand, then lifted the fingers of her right in a wiggly little wave. “Hi, Fred! This is Scruffy. Want to play?”

The dog barked, and the cat wailed like its tail was on fire.

Before Brett could think, speak or react, the bushy, brown dog lurched forward, jerked the leash out of Emily’s hand and tore through the house, chasing Fred.

Brett nearly cheered the dog on, hoping the cranky cat got its comeuppance. But Greg loved the damn critter. And so did Emily.

As the cat leaped over the sofa, the dog tried to follow, jumping onto the cushions, then balking at the distance. It hopped over the armrest instead.

The cat continued to wail like a banshee, and the dog barked like the devil was on its tail.