Justine Davis - Operation Reunion

The dog greeted the woman effusively, on his feet, tail wagging madly. The woman reached to scratch the same spot the man had as she glanced from dog to man to Kayla. Mirth was in her voice and echoed in vivid green eyes as she spoke to the animal.

“And now what have you done, Cutter, my lad? And why are you running around loose anyway?”

The dog yipped, short and sharp.

“He jumped out the back and took off like…a dog with a mission,” the man said as he lifted one arm toward the woman. She stepped into the shelter of it so naturally that Kayla knew these two were together in a way few people were. She could feel it, coming off of them in waves, could see it in their faces—love, respect, comfort and, in the glance they exchanged, passion.

She smothered a sigh. She’d known all that once. She’d had a place like that at Dane Burdette’s side, a warm, safe, welcoming place. And she’d thrown it away. Dane was a man of near-infinite patience, he’d proven that for years, but she’d pushed and pushed until she’d finally found his limit.

The pain of losing him wasn’t just emotional; it was a harsh, physical hurt, an aching for him with heart, mind and body. Oh, yes, body, she thought with an inward moan. Sometimes at night she would curl up into a ball and weep for missing him beside her, loving her. She gave herself an inward shake; if she let herself slide back into that morass of pain and loss, she’d break down sobbing right here in public, in front of these total strangers.

Belatedly she realized she’d seen the woman inside the post office, that she’d walked past her on her way to her post office box. She’d been comparing the woman’s warm, auburn hair to her own shorter, dark-brown bob, wondering if a change would help her outlook.

Not that anything could help because Dane had walked out of her life.

“I was just about to go round him up when he came back,” the man said, gesturing with the note. “It seems he stole this.”

“Stole?” the woman named Hayley asked as she looked at the balled-up paper. “Can you steal something someone obviously didn’t want?”

Kayla tried to explain. “I…”

The man looked at her, and she hated the way her voice faded into nothing. But it was too big, too complicated to explain. Still, there was something oddly calming in this man’s eyes, as if he’d reached out a hand to steady her.

Kayla tried to get a grip; whoever these two were, they clearly weren’t a threat. Stick to the simple facts, she told herself.

“I didn’t mean to throw it away.” She sighed, corrected herself. “I mean, I did throw it away, but I shouldn’t have. I’d like it back.”

“Of course.”

He handed it back without hesitation, reassuring her further. She smoothed out the note, realizing after a moment that the paper wasn’t even damp from the dog’s mouth. She glanced at the animal, who was looking up at her intently. She’d never had a dog, and suddenly she wondered if this one would have the same effect on her if she was more familiar with them. Or if it was just this dog who could look at her in that piercing way that made her feel as if she shouldn’t move.

“He’s…a beautiful dog.”

“He is,” Hayley said. “And clever enough to be amazing and annoying by turns.”

Kayla smiled at that. She thanked the man, nodded at the woman and turned to head back to her car.

The dog stopped her.

Not aggressively—in fact, he was looking up at her with the same tongue-lolling grin she’d seen before. She tried to walk around him, but he moved to block her again.

“I’m sorry,” Hayley said quickly. “He’s a herding dog by breed, and it’s his nature.”

She reached for the dog’s collar. Before she could grasp it, the dog dodged slightly, the bright blue, boat-shaped tag Kayla had caught a glimpse of rattling. Cutter, she thought. Hayley had called the dog Cutter. As in coast guard cutter? Was that why the man looked so imposing, some military background?

The dog yipped again, now looking from her to his owners and back. He clearly wanted something, but—

He snatched the note again, right out of her hands.

Kayla let out a startled yelp that probably sounded like the dog’s yip. This time the animal didn’t run off. Instead, he turned and with a startling sort of delicacy, presented the note to the woman, who glanced at it, then up at the man beside her.

“Uh-oh,” the man said.

“So it seems,” Hayley agreed.

Kayla had no idea what they were talking about, what was going on, but it was all starting to make her nervous again. And no amount of telling herself she was perfectly safe here, out in the open in a public parking lot with people coming and going around them, seemed to help. Without Dane solidly by her side, she felt vulnerable.

She summoned up all the old coping tricks she’d been taught in the days after her world had been shattered. It was only normal she be nervous around strangers, even after all this time, she told herself. And she knew how to deal, really she did.

“Please,” she said, trying to sound merely polite instead of pleading, “that’s personal.”

“Someone’s in trouble,” the woman said. It wasn’t really a question. But her voice was so soft, so gentle, it eased Kayla’s rising anxiety.

“Yes,” she admitted. That much was clear in the note now open for all to see, so there didn’t seem much point in denying it.

The man spoke. “Time for names, I think. I’m Quinn Foxworth. This is my fiancée, Hayley Cole.”

“Congratulations,” Kayla said, not sure what else to say in this odd situation.

“And this rascal,” Hayley said, scratching the dog’s ear again, “is Cutter.”

“Nice to meet you.”

It was automatic and sounded utterly inane. She needed to get out of here, collect her thoughts. But first she had to get that note back.

On the thought the dog moved once more, this time closer to her. And then he was leaning against her leg, looking up at her with what for all the world looked like reassurance.

“What an…unusual dog,” she murmured, half to herself.

“You have no idea,” Hayley said, her tone wry.

“He has a nose for trouble,” Quinn agreed. “In this case, apparently, yours.”

She looked up at the man then. And read the same kind of reassurance in his eyes that she’d fancied she’d seen in the dog’s.

“It’s my brother’s trouble, really.”

Now why had she said that? She didn’t make a habit of discussing her ugly family history with strangers.

“And now ours,” Hayley said quietly.

Kayla blinked. “What?”

The woman gestured at the dog. “This wasn’t coincidence. But we’ll explain all that later. In the meantime, let’s go somewhere where we can talk and figure out what to do about your problem.”

Kayla took a step back. Or tried to. The dog, once again, was there. He seemed uncannily able to sense her every move before she made it.

“Who are you?” she asked, something dark and unsettling churning in her stomach.

“Friendlies,” Quinn said, as if he’d sensed her fear.

“We just want to help,” Hayley said. She glanced at Quinn, such pride in her face that it went a long way toward soothing Kayla’s nerves. “It’s what we do.”

“You can’t help. Nobody can.”

Bitterness spiked through Kayla. She’d accepted the lost years, the thrown-away money, but Dane…. Losing Dane was—

She cut her own thoughts off.

“This is beyond anyone’s help,” she said. “It’s a lost cause.”

“Well, now,” Hayley said, “isn’t that convenient? Lost causes are our specialty.”

Dane Burdette paced the width of his home office, turned, made the return journey, then turned again. Although the apartment was large enough, this den was a small space, one that overflowed with equipment that now also filled the adjoining dining area.