Beth Cornelison - Danger at Her Door

She’d fooled herself.

The panic that coiled around her heart sprang from the tenderest place in her soul…her love for children. The idea that she could be even remotely responsible, through Sam, for any harm to a child filled her with unimaginable grief. Adrenaline, born from her horror, propelled her to the door. Her sandal-shod feet pounded the pavement as she raced down the street to Sam.

And Caitlyn.

Oh, God! Poor Caitlyn! Please let her be all right! But the nearer she got to the child, the more evident it became that she wouldn’t get the answer she hoped for with her prayer. The girl lay deathly still. Bright red tears on her fragile arm seeped blood into the grass.

Jack snatched up a plastic baseball bat littering his yard amongst other lawn toys and tried to ward off the dog. “Get away from her, you vicious beast!”

Sam snarled and snapped at the bat, but he remained poised over the girl’s body. Jack tried to move in closer to reach his daughter, only to be chased back by Sam’s angry bark.

Sam’s fur bristled, and he squared off with Jack, a low, menacing growl rumbling from his chest.

“Sam!” A sob wrenched from Megan’s throat. She gulped for air as she stumbled up to the grassy lawn. Her stomach knotted when she saw the child’s mauled arm and scratched neck and face. “Oh, no!”

“Do you see what that animal of yours did?” Jack screamed at her, his face dark with rage. “So he’d never hurt a child, huh?”

Her chest squeezed painfully as she heard her assertion tossed back at her in a scathing tone, and she stared at the proof of her apparent misjudgment.

“I—I’m sorry. I never imagined—” Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, and without waiting for a reply, she raced up the steps of Jack’s porch and into his house.

She found his cordless phone on the kitchen counter and punched in 911. Even before the emergency operator came on the line, she grabbed a kitchen towel and was rushing back outside.

“Get your devil dog away from my daughter!” Jack shouted when he saw her return to the yard.

Megan’s throat closed when she tried to call Sam off. Gripping Jack’s phone with a trembling hand, she stepped closer to the dog and child, sucked in a deep breath. “S-Sam, n-no! Down!”

While Megan hurriedly gave the operator Jack’s address and asked for an ambulance, Jack nudged the bat toward the German shepherd again. Sam barked and snapped at the bat.

“Stop poking him! He thinks you’re the enemy!”

“Damn right, I’m his enemy! I could kill the monster for this!” Jack’s face contorted with anguish, and Megan’s heart thundered.

“Please, put down the bat and step back! I have to calm him down!”

He hesitated and cast her a wary, angry glance.

Tears stung her eyes, and his image blurred. “Please.”

Stepping back with a venomous glare riveted on Sam, Jack set the bat on the ground. “There. Now get rid of him!”

Megan shoved the phone into Jack’s hand. A muscle in his jaw ticked, and his hard stare shifted to drill into her. Any trace of warmth she’d seen earlier in the week at the police station had disappeared. Anger radiated from him like the waves of heat rising from the pavement. Pressing the phone to his ear, he said, “No, we haven’t moved her.”

Inching closer to Sam, Megan clucked her tongue. “Easy, boy. It’s okay now. He’s a friend.” She saw Jack’s brow furrow in disagreement with her last statement. Wetting her lips, she focused her attention on the task at hand. “Down, Sam. Come here, boy. Come here.”

Sam turned his head to look at her and wagged his tail. With a whimper, he licked Caitlyn’s face then trotted over to Megan’s side.

Immediately, Jack flew to Caitlyn, falling to his knees. “Caitlyn? Sweetie, it’s Daddy.” His voice broke, and the love and concern in his tone twisted Megan’s heart.

“Down! Stay!” she told Sam fiercely. The dog settled on his stomach and laid his chin on his outstretched paws. The black eyes that peered up at her reflected the same sweet eagerness to please that characterized the Sam she knew and loved. The Sam that could attack a little girl puzzled and horrified her.

Megan hurried back across the yard, crouching beside Jack as he stroked the hair back from Caitlyn’s face. She used the towel still clutched in her hand to staunch the bleeding on Caitlyn’s arm. “Caitlyn, sweetie. Can you hear me?” she crooned.

“Four years old. Almost five,” Jack said into the phone then glanced around at Megan. “A dog attacked her. No, she’s unconscious.”

When Jack fell silent, Megan met his worried gaze. “Let me drive you two to the hospital. I want to do something to help.”

“An ambulance is on its way.” A muscle twitched in his jaw, and he hitched his head toward Sam. “Just get that damn animal out of my yard.”

Though his anger and distrust of Sam were justified, his brusqueness still chafed. Surely he didn’t think she’d let this happen? That she would ever knowingly let any harm come to a child?

Megan gnawed her lip while acid churned in her gut. No matter how it looked, she couldn’t believe Sam had hurt Caitlyn. He was trained to protect, to defend.

Frowning, she stood and took a step back. The distant wail of a siren heralded the approach of the ambulance.

Jack said something to the operator, then with a glance down the street, he disconnected the call.

He sent Megan and Sam another accusing glare as he pushed to his feet. “As soon as I know Caitlyn’s all right, I’m going to call animal control. That dog is dangerous and should be locked away.”

Megan’s eyes widened in shock and dismay, and her chest tightened. “Locked away? But—”

Jack stalked past Megan toward the street to flag down the ambulance, ignoring her protest.

She stayed back, her heart in her throat, as the EMTs assessed Caitlyn’s condition and loaded her into the ambulance. She watched numbly as Jack hopped into his Tacoma to follow the emergency vehicle to the hospital, leaving her standing in his front yard, shaking.

She whispered a prayer for Caitlyn’s recovery then blinked back tears as she stared at Sam. Jack couldn’t take Sam from her. He just couldn’t! She needed Sam’s friendship, cherished his loyalty and depended on his protection.

Her crutch. When Ginny’s assessment rang in her ears, a hollow sensation tugged at her chest. Maybe Sam was a crutch. But weren’t crutches made to help patients healing from an injury?

She was healing, too. Slowly. She’d just had a minor setback this week because of the renewed activity around the Gentleman Rapist case. The revived memories.

And the unsettling reminder, in the form of a handsome new neighbor with sexy hazel eyes, of all she was missing while she licked her wounds.

She had to rejoin the dating world and let a man into her life someday if she was going to have the family and future she wanted. Jack Calhoun brought home in vivid color the rut she’d allowed herself to get into in the name of protecting herself. And now, if he had his way, he would send another piece of her protective wall crashing down.

Because losing Sam, even for just a little while, would mean losing her sense of security.

Leaning over the railing of the hospital bed, Jack gently wrapped his hand around his daughter’s and rested his forehead on his arm. Guilt gnawed at him. He blamed himself for Caitlyn’s injury, for the sorry state of his life. For the way he’d lashed out at Megan.

When Caitlyn mumbled something, he opened his eyes to check on her, but she slept on. She’d drifted in and out of sleep for the past half hour, since the E.R. doctor had admitted her to a private room overnight for observation. Even though the doctor had assured him that Caitlyn would make a full recovery and that Jack had time to grab a bite of dinner before her sedative wore off, Jack had stayed put. He refused to leave Caitlyn and risk having her wake up in her hospital room alone.