It was still dark when Calliope pulled him out of the nightmare. Vince had put his gear together so quickly when he’d left the barn that he’d forgotten his medication and, like some mean spirit that slips in while you’re not watching, the nightmares came knocking straight away.

He sat outside the tent waiting for the first bird to call, wondering about Doc, about his family. Soon he would have to hike down off the mountain and find out when and where Doc’s funeral would be held. He could go and stand in the background. At least they wouldn’t play Taps, would they?

Two days up in the mountains and he didn’t feel better. Now he knew that even though he thought he’d progressed, Doc’s death dragged him back to the days and mood of the other funerals.

At least Doc’s family wouldn’t expect anything from him. There wouldn’t be pleading eyes that begged for stories. Heartbroken families wanting to know what had happened, but also wanting you to tone it down, to make it palatable. And right behind that, the questioning eyes. Why our son, why not you? What makes you more deserving to live? What, indeed?

It was good to have a plan. He would go to Doc’s funeral before heading south. He had to stay away from Lulah. That was his worst mistake, thinking he could have a relationship with her. Falling in love with her, for God’s sake. That’s what he’d done. But everything he loved, every person he relied on, died on him.

He’d panicked when they’d called from Doc’s office to tell him Doc had suffered a heart attack while out on a morning run, dying later in the hospital. Someone spoke about rescheduling his appointments, but that was about the point he switched off his phone.

Doc couldn’t have been more than fifty-five. What was he doing dying like that, in America, out jogging? Safe, he should have been safe. Everything was so messed up, but he couldn’t live losing another person he cared about.

When the first glimpse of dawn cracked open the horizon, he packed his gear and, with Calliope, started the trek back to the pickup. The nearest town was about a forty-minute drive, and he really needed a restroom of some sort and somewhere to recharge his dead phone. The only creature enjoying the sojourn was Calliope, who turned out to be both an excellent and enthusiastic hiking companion. He hoped she’d be just as pleased about a road trip.

The camping ground at the base of the valley had shower facilities available, and the manager charged his phone for him while he cleaned himself up.

“Lot of people wanting to get hold of you there, son. Darn things chirping like a cage full of crickets ever since I plugged her in.”

“Thank you, sir.” Vince reached for the phone. He scrolled through the messages and missed calls, half of them from Lulah. He knew he was an asshole, leaving her like that, but a clean break was best. She’d understand that someday.

A few messages from Adam, and oh hell, Marlo, too…looks like everyone was trying to find him. They’d give up on him soon enough. He continued through the messages and in among the ones from Lulah in varying states of concern and annoyance was one from Butch. Adam probably notified him that Vince was missing.

It wasn’t until his phone beeped again, when he was having coffee, that he recalled Adam was going to talk to Butch about tracking down Lulah’s father. He scrolled through the messages and found the one from Butch. Sure enough, he had an address. It was too late, now. He shouldn’t be involving himself in Lulah’s business. He could ask Butch to forward the information to Lulah or Adam. By the bottom of his cup, he’d decided what to do.

* * *

Adam entered the office and swooped in on Marlo for a lengthy kiss.

“Hello, company.” Lulah waved from the sofa where she sat as part of the dog pile.

“Oh, sorry, Lulah. I didn’t see you all curled up in the corner there.”

“Yeah, because that would have slowed you down.”

He gestured to Marlo. “Look at her, can you blame me?”

Lulah shook her head. “Go for it, she’s not my type.”

“I have news of our missing man. Let me grab a coffee and I’ll tell you what I know.”

“Vince?” Dammit. All this time working on her self-control and at the first hint of news, out gushes his name like Old Faithful. So much for staying detached over this. The three days she’d spent stamping on any piece of anxiety or concern she had for Vince, trying to accelerate through the disappointment stage and get on with her life, had failed.

She spent as much time as she could, focused on the upcoming lab by doing prep work with Marlo, who had already gained a similar degree.

Back with his coffee, Adam perched on Marlo’s desk. “I had a call from the woman who runs Vince’s group therapy because, obviously, he’d missed this morning’s session, and they were concerned about him, given the bad news from last Friday. Turns out Vince’s doctor, psychiatrist, counselor, whatever he—”

“Doc. Vince calls him Doc.”

“Well, Doc had a heart attack out jogging last Wednesday night. He died at the hospital later that evening. They think Vince was told on Friday morning, which makes sense for the timing of his disappearance.”

“Hell, for Vince, that’s a disaster. He relies on Doc and has made so much progress with him. I mean, he’d really started to pull his life together.” She looked over at Marlo. “This is going to set him back. Right back.”

“Maybe not, Lulah. Maybe he has enough of a foundation now—”

“He doesn’t. I know that.”

“What can we do?”

“Nothing. He called a break and I have to honor that.”

“But we don’t have to.”

“I think you should. It’s important to Vince that his boundaries aren’t crossed. You push him and he shuts right down. He’ll go away, work through this and when he returns he’ll be fine, back to his old self.”

“You don’t believe that.”

Since Justice had moved from alongside her to one of the dog beds, she’d inspected the piping on the sofa cushion, and when Adam called her out like that, well, it made the piping so much more fascinating.

“Lulah?”

“Yes, Adam.”

“I said, you don’t believe that.”

“What choice do I have?”

“We could file a missing person report.”

“Please don’t, it would destroy Vince’s trust in us. I think we should let him be for a few more days. Anyway, with his skills he’d be hard to find if he didn’t want to be.”

“That’s true. I hope he comes back soon. There’s so much for him here. I’ve had four people and a gallery call so far, wanting to contact Vince. They all want carousel animals made and the kind of numbers they’re throwing around with regard to what they’ll pay means he could have a serious career out of this.”

“Really? That’s great.”

“Add that the media are in touch regularly, wanting to do all kinds of stories that will probably elicit more work for Vince and publicity for the service dog project, means the auction was a success in more ways than we ever thought it would be.”

“Yeah, the timing sucks.” She pushed to her feet. “Gotta leave you guys, I’m running late for the VA home visits and Joker’s still down at HQ schmoozing a scared little dog.”

The message on her phone came as she climbed the steps to the home.

It was good to hear from him but she wasn’t certain how to respond.

Don’t get sucked into it. There were so many things she wanted to say. The urge to phone him back was overwhelming but he probably wouldn’t pick up. She sighed.

Miss you, too, buddy, but I’ll recover. Finally she sent a take care, added a smiley face, plastered a smile on her own face, and opened the door to the home.