When Adam left the house, the heavy scent of freesias and daphne struck him. Emma’s favorites. In spring she’d filled their house with so many vases of flowers that each evening he entered a perfumery when he came home. He let himself flounder for a moment in a memory of Emma and her flowers and her smile filled with simple, unblemished love.

In his mind, he paused at the door to their home—still and watching—the way he used to stop before entering the house when he was a cop, so that he could shed the work crap rather than bring it home. Now he was stuck at the doorway.

He went over to the garden shed, took a pair of secateurs, and cut a large bunch of freesias, tying them with some twine. As he went to return the secateurs, he passed a daphne bush and stopped to cut some of that, too. With the flowers secured he mounted the quad bike, kicked it into life and headed out to the main road.

Within thirty minutes, he was sitting at Emma’s grave. “Hey, Em, the freesias are out.” He filled the vase that wedged into the holder at the base of her headstone with water, and added the flowers. “Sorry, they’re a little battered from the bike trip.”

He fiddled about with them a bit more, trying to make them stand up straight, but they were uncooperative and disorderly. He gave the vase one last shake before setting it back in the ground. “And that, my darling, is why I left the flower arranging up to you.”

He sat on the ground and leaned against the headstone, took his knife from his pocket and started gouging a small spot in the ground. Within seconds, he was through the crusty top layer and the smell of damp earth filled his nostrils.

“Em, I made a terrible blunder once by holding out on you. If I had told you not to come and find me when I was away doing surveillance, I know you’d have stayed home. You would still be alive. For more than four years now, I’ve been beating myself up about it, unable to trust myself with the responsibility of anyone else’s welfare in case my job or my foolishness put that person in danger, too.

“That’s all changed, Em. I met someone in America, and she isn’t all accomplished and uncomplicated like you. She’s damaged and hurting; sometimes she’s brave and other times afraid. But most of all, she’s a very fine person.

“She’s helped me, given me someone to live for. And I’ve been able to help her a little. She let me help conquer some of her fears. I stuffed things up, too, which was good because that’s shown me that I can mess up and…” His heart thudded, giving momentum to his confession and, fancy developing allergies at his age because once again, those spring flowers were making his eyes water.

“Hell, Em, I messed up and nobody died. There you go, I said it.

“I’d reached the stage where I was too scared to become involved with anyone, because I didn’t want to put another life in danger. But her need caught hold of me. My own fears made me overprotective at first, and I really fucked things up so that she pushed me away.

“In doing that she’s brought me back, my old self, the person who’s able to stand right alongside and support the one I love.” I love? There we go. “The panic is going…I’m starting to heal.”

He had picked a narrow tunnel a little wider and deeper than the blade of his pocket knife.

“Her name is Marlo. She blows me away.”

He stared at the hole now. It was almost dark, and, in the twilight, he took his time smoothing the edges of the little tunnel he’d dug. He reached into his top pocket and retrieved the piece of daphne he’d cut back at the farm. Freed from his pocket, the scent from the flowers was provocative, releasing a surge of memories which in the past would have distressed him but that he now found comforting.

With the knife, he divided the spray of flowers into two pieces, put one down the hole and the other into his top pocket. He slipped his wedding ring from his finger and rolled it between his palms. He studied it a moment, running his finger around the smooth, unadorned edge dragging in a few deep breaths to satisfy the hammering of his heart. He lifted the ring to his lips, kissed it, and dropped it down the hole with the daphne.

“’Til death us do part, Em. I’ll always love you.”

Quickly, before he lost his courage, he pushed the dirt back and filled the hole.

* * *

Marlo entered the house and paused. Total silence was way too quiet. Where was the welcome home sound of the discordant footfall of an arthritic dog walking on the slippery tiles?

“Fala?” she called, and the lack of response made the point of alarm in her chest expand.

She headed for the patio. Recently Fala seemed to not so much sleep as to fall into a semi-coma. She probably hadn’t heard Marlo come home. There she lay in a shady spot, her perfect stillness causing Marlo to step slowly.

She had her eyes stretched wide, as if that would improve her vision as she watched for the rise and fall of the dog’s chest. Relief arrived with the dog’s one long drawn breath, one deep exhalation, and return to the stillness.

She crouched and stroked the dog’s head, trying to rouse her gently. Fala’s eyes opened, and her tail gave a barely perceptible thump. She raised her head with gathered effort but soon placed it back on the ground as Marlo stroked her.

“You don’t look so good, sweets. Come on; let’s see if you’ll stand up.”

Despite the encouragement, Fala was reluctant to stand. She turned her head away from the offer of a much-favored liver treat, and, when Marlo checked her gums, she could detect a slight ammonia-like odor to her breath. Kidneys. Hell.

When she went to get her phone, she noticed the water bowl. An old dog with chronic kidney disease had to drink, and that water didn’t appear to have been touched all day. She called the vet surgeon and was relieved Jeff hadn’t closed up and would keep himself available for them.

It took some effort to roll the old dog onto her blanket, gather it up and carry her out to the car. She had to set her down to unlock the vehicle, but Fala just lay quietly, unmoved by the events. Opening the SUV, she placed her in the back, making sure the dog was lying comfortably. Once in the driver’s seat, she took a few seconds to compose herself. She was remarkably calm, in an almost surreal state until she turned the key in the ignition and heard the small click that suggested nothing else was going to happen. In disbelief, she turned the key forward and back several times before believing the click. It took two seconds for her mood to switch from calm to chaos.

She dug in her bag for her cell and made a call to the barn, praying that someone with a vehicle was still around. Lulah finally answered and said that Vince would be on his way up to take them to the clinic.

Jeff met them in the parking lot and helped Vince carry Fala straight through to the surgery. After blood and urine screening, he confirmed Marlo’s fears that Fala was suffering acute renal failure. She was severely dehydrated, her potassium levels were dangerously high and slowing her heart. IV fluid therapy would hopefully restore good hydration and flush out the toxins that her kidneys should have been removing from the bloodstream.

Marlo sat on the floor by the cage and stroked Fala’s ears as she lay quietly, the IV drip in her right leg, her eyes closed, her breathing still slow. “Ears like velvet, Fala.”

Jeff stood over her. “I won’t lie to you, Marlo, her kidneys have been compromised for some time now and even with rehydrating her, she’s not out of trouble by any means.”

“Sure, I understand.”

“Are you okay? Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’ll sit with her a bit if that’s all right.” She continued stroking Fala, running her hand over her head and down her body, feeling all the familiar bones and bumps. She smoothed her thumb over the scar on Fala’s leg that she’d gotten when she’d cut herself on some old tin concealed in long grass at the edge of the forest.

The stress of finding her sick, the car not starting, and the concern that she wouldn’t get Fala help in time had left her so that now she felt numb around the edges, hollow inside. “You can’t leave me, girl. There’s been too much leaving go on around here lately. I need you to stay. Promise me you’ll stay.” She stilled her hand, and waited but Fala didn’t respond. She crouched over her and kissed the top of her head. “Rest up for a bit. I’ll be back soon.”

Back in the waiting room, Vince sat perched on the edge of a bench seat, looking as if he thought the place would implode if he moved. The guy needed to learn how to relax, because being edgy with that many tattoos was intimidating.

He stood when he saw her. “How’s Fala?”

“She’s on IV fluids and stuff, so there’s nothing more we can do for her at this stage. It’s up to her now. Up to that little body of hers to take up the fight. I’m not thinking about anything beyond her getting better.”

Vince reached out to touch her arm and pulled back.

Neither of them were any good at the comforting thing. “Don’t feel you have to hang around for me. I can walk back or get a lift back from Jeff.” She was trying to be considerate, but he looked as though she’d slapped him.

“I’d like to wait…if that’s okay.”

It was easy to see he thought she was going to need some support, and she hoped with all of her heart that it wouldn’t be necessary. “Thank you, Vince. Would you like a glass of water or coffee?”

“No, I’m fine.”

She’d never met anyone so undemanding. He seemed to go through the world making as little impact as possible. Well, apart for the visual impact. “How’s Calliope?”

“She’s great.”

“Where is she now? Do you need to get home to her?”

He hesitated as he shifted on his seat a little before answering. “She’s with Lulah,”

“Well, she’s in good hands.” Marlo smiled at him, and he answered with a smile that seemed filled with relief.

* * *

As Adam drove down the drive, a flood of memories, good ones, rolled and cascaded around his head. He was sucked dry from the non-stop flight to LA and the rush of having only an hour to catch the connection to Seattle. Common sense said he should have grabbed a hotel for some sleep and set off for Dog Haven Sanctuary in the morning. But his mother had stopped him from listening to common sense, and a son should always do as his mother asks. Thank you, Mum.

He parked alongside Marlo’s SUV. The back was up and the driver’s door open. She must be heading out. He went to the open front door of the house and called to her. There was no response. He smiled as he passed the wall in the entrance where he’d made her blush. Did she blush when she passed by here? He called out again, not so loud this time because that unease creeping through him said he already knew he was talking to an empty house.

Fuck, surely not Barrett.

His heart stepped up, ready to redline as he ran back to her car. The key was in the ignition; he turned it and heard the click that signaled a dead battery.

Slow down. Think.

She’d left here with some sort of urgency. Otherwise she’d have taken the keys with her, and she would have at least shut the front door. He returned inside the house. Fala was missing, too. The phone was on the counter, as if a call had been hastily made. He picked it up and checked the last number dialed. The vet. There must be something wrong with Fala.

When he left the house, he shut the front door. As he was about to retrieve the keys from the SUV, he heard something moving about in the shrubs. It sounded large. Wishing for a weapon now.

He slid along the side of the car, keeping a steady fix on the moving bushes and saw a flash of fur. A dog? Fala?

He stepped toward the garden, and the moving bushes told him the animal was heading away. “Fala, come on, girl.” The bushes moved again. The dog had turned and seemed to be crawling its way toward him. “Fala?”

The dog stepped out of the shrubs and crouched at the edge of the garden and rolled to its side, exposing his belly.

Justice. “Come here, let me look at you.”

He had regressed to his pancake impersonations, creeping slowly, belly close to the ground. But when Adam crouched, Justice raised himself and ran at him, hitting him side on, knocking him to the ground in a mass of wriggling body, wagging tail, and frantic licking.

It took a couple of minutes to get Justice to settle. “You’ve just arrived, haven’t you?”

Justice sat, his tail thumping, and he made low whimpering and snuffling sounds. By the state of his condition, he obviously hadn’t been a very successful hunter. He had a thick strip of hair missing from one shoulder that looked as if he may have glanced off a moving vehicle, but apart from other minor scrapes, he looked pretty good.

Adam stood, and Justice settled himself against his legs, leaning in, stretching his head and neck up Adam’s leg, and giving him an open-mouthed, hanging-tongued gaze of adoration.

Adam reached for the dog’s head and gave him a solid rub. “Into the car with you, buddy. You’re going to make two females very happy.”