Karly’s rejection stung. But Thad wasn’t pouting. He wasn’t. Well, maybe he was.

He’d stayed away from town for almost a week to train Custer. The progress they made astounded him. Custer’s mulishness had given way on day two, and he took to following directions. The hard work and patience paid off, and gave him something to feel good about.

Today were the dog’s preliminary trials. Thad couldn’t tell who was more nervous, him or Custer.

He stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Failure. A non-passing grade would be just one more failure. Hell, he’d done everything possible to ensure his father’s fists landed on him, not his mother or sister. When that hadn’t worked, he’d figured he’d intercept some flying bullets, and when that hadn’t worked, he’d volunteered to look for bombs.

Loser was the nickname his dad had given him.

His mom stuck with inconvenient.

His sister preferred pest.

The titles chiseled away at his self-worth. He’d tried once to end it all—to pull the trigger. Everyone would have been better off. But he couldn’t do it. A little voice kept telling him suicide wasn’t the answer. He figured the Army would see him to the end, yet here he stood, wondering how he still hadn’t managed to move past worthless. He smoothed back his hair, hearing his father’s voice reminding him to keep his hair off his collar.

“Custer, I think I’ll let my hair grow.” He rubbed his chin. “Maybe grow a beard.” The dog tipped his head to the side, as if trying to piece together what Thad had said. “Come on, boy.” He moved his hand to get the dog’s attention. “Let’s get your trial over with. Karly needs her money. Fetch your leash.”

On hearing Thad’s command, Custer padded to the door to retrieve his halter. “Good boy. How about being an overachiever today, and getting a passing grade on all your elements? A little girl is counting on you.”

Thad secured Custer’s halter, grabbed his wallet, several bottles of water, a gear bag, then met Custer at the truck. He lowered the tailgate. “Up.” Custer entered the oversized kennel and settled in, while Thad shut the wire door. “Good boy.”

He sucked in a slow, refreshing breath of cold, crisp mountain air, and let the early morning mist settle on his skin. The smell of pinesap mixed with the clean, fresh air. Overnight, the grass had turned silver from the moisture clinging to the blades. A mourning dove called a greeting to her nearby mate. The combination calmed the voices in his head and allowed him to function.

He backed out of his gravel drive.

Driving over the bridge into town on his way to Cuppa Joe’s, he couldn’t help but look toward Karly’s business.

That’s odd. His gut tightened.

He took his foot off the accelerator. There are lights on. Where’s Karly’s truck?

Pulling alongside the buildings, he shut off the engine and opened the door to listen. The dogs were agitated. Something was off. From under the seat, he retrieved the plastic handgun case. Once his firearm was loaded, he moved to the side of the building.

Sweat made the grip slick.

Stay calm. Breathe.

His breathing became shallow as he made his way to the corner to peer around the building’s edge past the fence line. Too exposed. He ran to the opposite building and placed his back against the steel wall.

Time slowed, and his mind flowed back to the Helmand province, near the capital of Lashkar Gah. His unit received orders to help Afghan forces look for a band of rebels. The sounds and smells and tension.

Sweat beaded on his forehead.

Readjusting his grip on the firearm, he inched his way toward the storage area at the back of the adoption center. Agitated dogs and the pounding of his heart in his ears were the only things he could hear.

Rounding the edge of the building, he made his way to the back door.

A bitter smell drew his attention. A hand rolled cigarette butt. He crouched lower to analyze a fresh set of footprints in the soft dirt beside the door. A midsize male, one-eighty, maybe. Size nine or ten shoes.

Fury fueled his protective gene. If anything happened to Karly, he’d hunt the bastard down.

Leaving the evidence intact, he tested the steel door and pushed it open an inch at a time.

Around the counter, the storage area was nothing but a dark hole. He’d give anything for his thermal night vision goggles. He made his way through the kennel slowly, clearing each section, then the office, making a full-circle sweep.

Sounds of footsteps halted his movement. Aware of the space, he slipped behind a supply rack.

The scent of vanilla hit him before the storage lights flickered on. He removed the bullet from the chamber of his gun and stepped forward.

“Jesus, Thad. I saw your truck. How did you get in here? And, what are you doing with that gun?”

Thad gazed toward the back entrance. “The back door was open. I saw your office lights on and decided to check things out.”

Thank God you’re okay.

She stared at the back door like it dripped with blood. “I locked the door last night before I left.” Her eyes widened, and she rubbed her arms, even though the temperature inside was stable and warm.

“Did you call the sheriff?” Her voice quivered.

I was too busy making sure you were safe. “I wanted to be sure there was a need before I made the call. You or someone else could have forgotten to lock the door.” I’ll make sure it’s locked from now on.

“Neither Mara nor I would ever forget to lock the door.” Her eyes ripened into round circles, her tone stiff. She pulled her hair into a fist and started twisting. “We need to call the sheriff. He needs to know about this.”

“I’m not sure what he will be able to do.” Thad engaged the safety on his gun. “But if you call, tell him there’s evidence of a smoker who wraps marijuana in his tobacco.” Her face paled to the color of tapioca pudding. “What just happened?”

“You sure it was marijuana?” The squeaked, fearful question upped the pressure in his chest.

“Positive.” He touched her forearm to get her attention. Her eyes were dilated, although she was doing her best to keep the panic contained. “All kinds of people in the military have vices. Tobacco. Alcohol. Pot. Pills. You name it. You get to know the signs.”

Her muscles trembled beneath his hand. She crossed her arms and started to pace. “Then the sheriff will want to know.”

“Why? I didn’t see anything broken or damaged. It might be some neighborhood kids wanting to see the dogs.” The excuse sounded lame, even to him, but he’d say anything to calm her fears. “You might want to see if anything is missing first.”

“I expect nothing is missing. That’s why we have to call Joe.”

“Who’s Joe?”

“Joe Gaccione. Mara’s husband. He was elected sheriff after his brother was killed. There’s a guy who’s been stalking Mara. He smokes cigarettes laced with marijuana.”

This wasn’t good. He braced a hand on the nearest shelf. “Since when does Elkridge have stalkers?”

“Since a couple of years ago. And things have gotten weirder since.”

“What’s Gaccione been doing about it?”

“He’s made several arrests, but Mara doesn’t believe any of the drug dealers they’ve arrested are the guy who’s been following her around. She’s certain the stalker is linked to her brother-in-law’s murder.” Karly moved toward the door to study the lock. “How did he get in? We’ve been so careful. I was starting to think Mara was wrong, that Joe had arrested the stalker.”

What the hell’s going on? Elkridge has stalkers and murderers?

The hairs on his arms stood to attention. “If that door was locked, a professional picked it. There are no marks on the door or signs of forced entry.”

Her head whipped in his direction. “Oh, God. That’s not good.”

“You’re shaking. Come here.” He engulfed her in his arms, half expecting to hear her teeth chatter. He scanned the room to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. “You need to install better locks and a security alarm.”

She pushed from his arms. “Yeah, and who’ll pay for the extra security equipment? It could cost thousands.”

I would if I could.

“At a minimum, you need to get better locks. I didn’t put my life on the line for this country to have some asshole running around scaring women and killing people in my hometown. Bill Mason might have a better lock lying around. I'll talk to him. We’ll think of something.”

She ran her fingertips under her eyes. “It’s just that…”

“What, Karly?” He rubbed his hands up and down her arms slowly, to get her panicky breathing to slow. “Just because I was stupid all those years ago,” he softened his tone, “doesn’t mean you can’t depend on me, trust me to help when you need it.” He lifted her hand and brushed a kiss across her palm, then curled her fingers inward. “I told you before. I’m not going anywhere. Not again.”

“You’ve said that before.” She tilted her chin back, and he pushed a thread of hair behind her ear. Her eyes searched his. The barking had faded, and his mind quieted. Only two people existed. He leaned in. He closed the distance. He wanted her, wanted this—then she shifted and took a step back. He dropped his head.

“I need to go check on things. Make sure nothing is missing.” She pointed over her shoulder and took a couple of steps backward.

“Yep, check on things.” #RunAway.

“I’ll call Mara. Tell her we might need to cancel her class this afternoon.”

“Why? Don’t you need the income? There will be enough people here to make sure nothing happens.”

“There is that.” The caution in her voice sent up a flare. He’d love to know what was skulking around in that pretty brain of hers. Nibbling on those sexy lips might rattle something loose.

Her eyes darkened like an aged whiskey. He took a step toward her, wanting to touch, caress.

In seconds, she disappeared through the door faster than a dog wanting to play.

Guess the preliminary trials are going to wait.

He stood there a while, contemplating her reaction, before finding something to do, because there was no way in hell he would leave her alone in this place.

A half an hour later, Karly found him checking one of the dog’s paws that looked red and raw, while Custer looked on.

Custer licked and sniffed the other dog with a high-pitched whine. “He’ll be okay.” Thad patted Custer on the back.

Karly knelt and touched the pitbull’s hind leg. “I freaked out the first time I saw Barley’s feet. When he gets bored, he starts licking, and it causes skin irritation. That’s why his pads and feet are red. I need to take him for a run.” She leaned against the kennel door. “Do you think Custer is ready for his prelims?”

“He’s gotten through everything fine the past few days. It’ll be interesting to see if he’ll follow someone else’s commands.”

“Let’s get this done. I want to take some of the dogs for a run. I was wondering if you’d be willing to come along. I’m not feeling all that safe since there still might be a stalker out there.”

“Sounds good.”

Karly’s proposal provided relief from the turmoil boiling in his gut. He’d expected her to push him away again...or worse, ignore him, and was glad she finally reached out.

Thad let go of Barley’s paw and ran a hand down Custer’s flank. The dog danced away. “Custer’s agitated and distracted. This should be interesting.”

“Let’s start with the basics.” She leaned down to scratch under Custer’s chin. “See how he does. If we get through the list, we can mix up the testing, see how he does with the unexpected. Since we don’t know what a child will do, let’s push him to see how he’ll react. I’ll go get things set up.” Karly pushed through the back door.

Thad ran his hand down Barley’s back. “It’s okay, buddy. We’ll be back shortly to take you for a run.” The dog’s ears perked up as Thad pushed to a stand. “Ready, Custer?”

When Thad entered the back room, she had indeed prepared. She’d built an obstacle course full of things Custer wouldn’t be familiar with.

“Ready?” Karly lifted a clipboard off the wall and handed it to Thad. “I’ll run him through the checklist. You assess what he’s learned.” She put on her training apron, which she’d filled with treats and whistles and klackers.

“Look.” She got Custer’s attention with a command. “Come.”

For the next twenty minutes, Custer progressed through the checklist—leave it, drop it, sit, lie down, stay, wait…then he moved into the unknown. Jumping up on a box, going under a table, around a pylon, and through a tunnel.

Karly’s work with Custer looked effortless. Her commands and reactions were flawless. She stayed in rhythm with the animal. Each verbal and non-verbal command was timed perfectly to help the dog perform his best. The way she interacted with animals was the same way she interacted with people. She listened, a rarity in this world, and the reason he’d been in love with the woman for all but ten years of his life. He might have fallen in love with her sooner if he’d figured out she was pushing him into mud puddles because she liked him.

She ran across the open area toward Thad, stopped and turned. “Custer, come.”

The dog trotted up to her, watching her hands, waiting to claim the beef nugget as his prize.

“Sit.” She pulled out a treat. “Good boy.” She rubbed the slobber on her jeans. “He needs more practice with the command wait, and he’s reluctant to go into tight spaces.”

Thad handed Karly the clipboard. “Do you think he’ll still pass? I want you to get paid.”

“We...so we can get paid.” She studied the dog. “Do you think you can get him comfortable with the space issue in a couple days? I’ve already put off the Carsons once. They have an opening in their schedule, and want to retrieve Custer on Thursday.”

Custer waited patiently for instruction. “Honestly, I didn’t think he’d do as well as he did. Focusing on a couple of items shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I wish you would have more faith in yourself and your abilities.”

The confidence the Army had built brick by brick surfaced. “I have confidence in myself. It’s others I’m not so sure about.”

“That’s true. Look at me. I was the closest to you, and you still believed I’d do something to hurt you.”

“The military changed most of that. I learned to depend on others.” Thad took a step closer and brushed her bangs aside. “But, you’re the only one I learned to trust with my heart.”

“But never fully.” For a second there was a flicker of sadness. The need to let go of the pain. To be together without the push-pull. She leaned down to pet Custer. “What do you say we go for a run, big boy? There are a couple dogs next door who need some fresh air. Besides, a good run cleanses the soul.” She fluffed the dog’s ears. “I had dinner with my mother last night. You know how that goes.”

“Yes, I do.” He embraced the change of subject and transitioned his thoughts to Karly’s mother. He’d like to give Mrs. Krane a how-to book on motherhood. The only thing she understood was overbearing control—control that ground her children down until every ounce of confidence had disappeared, or the kid rebelled. Luckily, Karly had created a diamond-encrusted suit of defiance.

The tension in Karly’s shoulders and the shadows under her eyes supported his assessment that Mrs. Krane’s interference had taken its toll.

“Do you have anything to run in?” He pointed at her jeans and flip-flops.

She huffed a laugh. “Half my wardrobe’s here. I’m always here, and I need a change of clothes just about every day.”

“What are we waiting for? Dogs are fed and watered—no worries there. How’s your leg? Is it healing?” Thad bent his leg at the knee, stretching the thigh muscle. “Mine isn’t too bad today. I stretched it good this morning, so I should be good for five miles or so.”

“My leg’s fine. I should be able to keep up.”

“Let’s take it slow. We’re not in any rush, and it’s nice out.” And I want to spend as much time together as I can squeeze into the day. “Let’s problem-solve while we run. Between the two of us, we should be able to come up with an inexpensive way to secure your place better. I’ll get my backpack.”

Karly unlocked the front door to let Thad out. “Lock the door when you come back in, would you?”

“Sure. I’ll only be a minute.” She nodded and disappeared.

On his way back in, he spotted the office door ajar. Moving to close the door, he paused. Every male part went on high alert, the ooh-la-la kind of high alert.

Karly hadn’t gone to the bathroom to change. Nope. Through the crack in the door, he got a three-inch view from head to toe.

Well, lookie there.

He should change, but how does one take their eyes off perfection?

She had an efficient way about her that most days he appreciated, but not today. Today, he wanted to expand time. Her long legs slid easily into running shorts that ended mid-thigh. The tangerine-colored racer-back shirt slid down her torso. The tattoo on her leg again made him curious. A drunken indulgence, maybe? Twisting up her hair, she shoved the ends into the loop of a baseball cap and opened the door.

“Oh. Hi. The restroom is down the hall if you need to change.”

“I was just enjoying the view.”

A wave of red flushed her face. “It’s usually only Mara and me here, and she’s blind.”

“It’s not like I haven’t seen you before.” He glanced toward her thigh. The blue-gray design on her skin was now covered by black and neon green running strips. “I meant to ask you about the tattoo.”

“Oh, that?” She touched her leg just above where her shorts ended. “I got it in Vegas. A couple of us girls went there for my twenty-first birthday. It was supposed to be a crane standing on the back of a turtle, but it didn’t turn out the way I expected.”

A note of regret hummed through his cells. The memory of their milestone birthday plans played the sad tune. “We have a saying in the Army. A good tattoo ain’t cheap, and a cheap tattoo ain’t good.”

“That’s a good saying.” The blush gave way to relief.

She made him want her to uncover those bits voluntarily. The voluntarily part being the biggest obstacle. The anticipation was killing him. He opened the front door. “After you.”

“How come you only have the one on your arm? You talked about getting several.”

He took the leads of three of the five dogs, deliberately placing Custer in her group to see how he’d do. “I found an artist who could pull off one of those 3D tats. It would have covered my whole back, but we couldn’t get the drawing right, and pretty soon I was deployed again, and the timing never worked out.”

“What design were you working on?” She turned toward the trail next to the river, and the dogs, alert to her slightest move, automatically headed that direction.

He hesitated. His chest tightened and his mouth dried out, because she was the only person on the planet who might understand the imagery.

Letting her step into the dark room in his mind, the place where he hid his moody, imperfect images, wasn’t a good idea, but then again…

“It was a robotic skeleton, like the Borg in Star Trek, only the tattoo was a view from the inside, and it covered my whole back.”

She glanced his way. “I bet it’s like that drawing you did our senior year—that mechanical heart—with bits and pieces scattered across the bottom.” She reached out to touch his arm. “Do you still feel broken?”

Damn her. She wasn’t supposed to remember. She wasn’t supposed to be able to see inside him. “When you’re trained as a soldier, you’re trained to think, act, react in a certain way. Like a robot.”

She shook off his explanation. “But that’s not why you’re attracted to that drawing. You’ve always believed you were damaged in some way. I remember you saying you were expendable—that if you disappeared, no one would notice. But it’s not true.”

He gripped the leads tighter and pushed forward. Too bad he wasn’t running a marathon. He wanted to feel that burn—the pain of pushing past exhaustion. Damn it, he wanted to feel something besides inadequacy.

She caught up with him a half mile later. “What are you doing?” she demanded, trying to catch her breath. “Was that your idea of running away?” she puffed out.

He slowed to a trot, but didn’t dare look her way.

“Hey.” She gave him a nudge. “You can never run far enough to get away from yourself. Believe me, I’ve tried.” She allowed the dogs to fall into a pack.

He wanted to avoid the sympathy that was sure to come, but she surprised him.

She pulled at his arm to get him to stop, then tapped him on the chest. “You’ve spent years trying to convince everyone around you, even yourself, that you’re not worthy. I’m not exactly sure what you think you aren’t worthy of, but you’ve worked hard at it. Don’t you think it’s time you put all that effort into more positive pursuits?”

His heart picked up the pace. “Why do you care how I feel?” I need to know.

“Because, Thad Lopez—you are a person worth caring about. That’s why. Some day you need to find a way to believe it.” She took a step toward the trail leading up to a spruce and aspen covered grove. “Come on, soldier. Let’s run. I want to see what you got.”

I don’t got a lot, since I don’t have you.

She could split his chest open easy enough. Then again, she was the only person who could figure out how to put the pieces back together again.