Iris Johansen: Dark Summer

He stared at her for a moment. "Sorry." He took a step closer to the table. "I won't give you orders, but you may need me to help with Ned. No one knows him better than I do. He'll do what I tell him."

"His name is Ned?" She pushed the X-ray machine out of the way and moved to the examining table. She gently stroked the Lab's black head. "Hello, Ned," she said softly. "I'm Devon, and I'm going to help you. I'll try not to hurt you, but if I do, I'll take it away as quick as I can."

The Lab made a sound deep in his throat and pushed his head against her hand. His brown eyes gazed up at her with trust and a sort of fearless understanding. Surprise rippled through her. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen a dog with an expression quite that… knowing.

"What a good boy." She felt a sudden surge of anger. And some idiot villager had tried to kill this animal, who'd only tried to help. What kind of world was this? "Don't worry, the soldiers will find out who shot him. Most of the time the villagers are grateful. I don't know why one of them went crazy."

"It wasn't a local." Marrok was watching her expression. "But you look like you'd like to go hunting for the bastard who shot Ned."

"I would." Her lips tightened. "And if Captain Ramirez starts giving me excuses about not finding him, I will. He can't get away with shooting my dogs."

"Your dogs?"

"I'm the vet on-site. All these rescue dogs may not belong to me, but their health is my responsibility." She went across the tent to her computer to view the X-ray. "And why the hell haven't I seen you and Ned on the mountain? You don't belong to any of the U.S. rescue groups that I flew in with."

"I don't belong to a group. Ned and I are sort of… freelance."

"Freelance? No way. Do you think I'm stupid? You have to have government permission even to enter the area. They wouldn't approve anyone not sponsored and approved by a government."

"We were here. We were doing a job." He met her eyes. "Now why don't you do your job? Take that bullet out of Ned."

He was right. The barely contained violence that glimmered beneath Marrok's cool exterior might be antagonizing her and filling her with suspicion, but she could deal with it later. She wasn't about to put him through a third degree until she finished taking care of the dog. Her gaze shifted to the X-ray on the computer. "You appear to have guessed right. The bullet isn't lodged in a vital organ."

"No guess. I told you that no one knows Ned like I do. Anesthesia?"

"Of course."

"I don't like anesthesia." He lifted his hand to ward off the words he knew she was going to say. "I'm not suggesting you cut into him without it. He'll need it for the initial pain. But I want you to use PropoFlo and work fast. He'll come out of it quicker, and he'll be himself again. That's important in Ned's case."

"It's sometimes better for them to have a heavier sedation. They don't try to struggle after they wake and break the stitches."

"He won't struggle. I'll explain it to him."

Her brows lifted. "You may believe he's very intelligent, but it's instinct that makes-"

"He won't struggle." He met her gaze. "I promise you. I'll be right here when he wakes to quiet him if he does."

She shrugged. She preferred to use PropoFlo anyway whenever possible. Ned's calm temperament seemed to make him a good candidate. "I'll take care of him if there's a problem. You don't have to be here."

"Yes, I do." He turned to the dog and began to murmur to him. It wasn't En glish, Devon realized with surprise. She studied him. Even though Marrok was olive-complexioned and his hair and eyes were also dark, she had been sure he was American. High cheekbones, wide mouth… Italian? Spanish? No, neither one. But the dog seemed to understand. He was staring intently at Marrok's face, and when the words stopped, he closed his eyes with a little sigh.

Marrok turned back to her. "Get started. We have to get this over. I have something I have to do."

"It will take as long as it takes." She went to the medicine supply chest. "If you're going to stay, scrub up and-"

"Wait. There's something you should know."

"Medical history?"

"No, Ned thought he found a survivor just before he was shot. I didn't get a chance to search the ruins of that house, so I don't know if he was right. I flagged the site."

She shook her head. "That entire village was searched thoroughly before we pulled out a few days ago."

Marrok shrugged. "Ned isn't always right, but he comes close. It's your call."

She hesitated. "Did you tell Captain Ramirez?"

He nodded. "Like you, he didn't believe there was a chance of a survivor after all the search activity you put into that village."

"There's always a chance." She frowned. "I'll call Ramirez and tell him that we need to get an excavation crew up there right away. I'll go myself after I finish with your Ned."

An indecipherable expression flitted across his face. "It would be better if you stayed here. It might not be safe for you up there."

"Of course I'm going. It's what I do." She looked up at him. "Do you think-" She forgot what she had been about to say as her eyes met Marrok's. His intensity was overwhelming and almost hypnotizing. For an instant she actually felt shaken. Safe? She suddenly had the feeling that nothing connected with this man would ever be termed safe.

Get a grip. Whether Marrok was safe or not wasn't important. He was just a man with a dog that was hurt and needed her.

She glanced away from him. "It's what I do," she repeated. She took out her phone and started to dial Ramirez. "Put on some gloves. I may need you to hold Ned in the correct position during the surgery."

"HE SHOULD WAKE UP ANYminute now." Devon turned away and stripped off her gloves. "Ned should be fine. But you should keep him confined for two weeks. He mustn't get excited and tear out those stitches."

"I won't cage him. Ned won't tear them out. I'll have a talk with him." His hands were stroking the dog's head with exquisite gentleness. "He's smart and knows what's good for him."

She found herself staring at the hands caressing the dog. Beautiful, graceful hands, and the tenderness of the movement was mesmerizing. The first impression of barely contained violence was completely at odds with this Marrok. She tore her gaze away. "Until he sees a cat cross his path. You may be proud of your dog, but you shouldn't risk him because you have a false sense of his intelligence."

"Not false." He glanced up at her. "And he likes cats. I haven't found an animal or human being he doesn't like… except one. That's why he's such a terrific rescue dog. He never stops trying." Ned was waking up, opening his eyes. "Take it easy, buddy," Marrok said softly. "It's all over. Now all you have to do is heal."

Ned whimpered and closed his eyes again.

Marrok was still stroking the dog. "You did a good job, Dr. Brady. Quick, neat, and thorough. Thank you."

"It's my job."

"It's more than your job."

She shrugged. "I love animals. But so do all the handlers on the team."

He smiled. "I don't doubt their affection, but yours strikes deeper, doesn't it? Why else would you have become a vet? How many dogs do you own?"

"Five."

"And other animals?"

"What difference does it make?"

"I'm curious."

"Four cats. Three parrots. A pig. A donkey."

"I take it that they're not all house pets?"

"I have a place in the country outside Denver. It's a few acres, big enough."

"Why so many?"

"Some of them are strays. Some of them were abused. Some of them were left because their own ers didn't want to pay their bill and told me to find them other homes."

"And you took them in."

"When I couldn't find them a good home."