“Staying in bed just isn’t as appealing if you’re not there with me,” she said, snagging another piece of his heart. “But I got a call from Chief Freed this morning. He wants me to come into the station.”
Mad Dog chewed slowly, carefully choosing his next words. “Did he say why?”
“He heard about the accident. When I told him about the truck that pushed me off the road, he said he needed more information if I wanted to file an official report.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That I probably wouldn’t file an official report.”
He stared at her incredulously. “Why the hell not?”
She frowned. “It’s pointless. Either the guy is a local or he isn’t. If he isn’t, he’s long gone, and without a license plate, we won’t be able to find him.”
“And if he is local?”
“Then, there’s a good chance Chief Freed already knows who he is. Lots of local guys have spotters but a whole rack of them? Not so much. Only the real avid hunters, like Chief Freed himself, fit their trucks with gear like that. Which means that if it was a local ...” She didn’t finish that statement, proving she had an accurate measure of Freed.
Mad Dog made a mental note to ask Cage to compile of list of pickup truck owners in the area, and then he would be making some drive-bys to see which ones had racks of lights across the top. Then, he’d make a few unscheduled visits to those who did.
Kate cleared her throat and stared into her coffee. “If I don’t file a report, chances are, there will be some anonymous donations made to help defray the cost of my medical bills, and my Jeep will get fixed at an extremely discounted rate. The flip side of that is that I’ll never find out who it was. But I’m sure it was an accident. Probably just someone who had had a few too many and wasn’t thinking straight.”
He couldn’t help himself from blurting out, “That is so fucking wrong. You know that, right?”
“That’s life in Sumneyville. They take care of their own.”
Mad Dog didn’t fail to notice how she’d said “they” and not we.
“And I’m not gonna lie. The ER charge alone will probably wipe me out. It’s not like working for my father comes with health insurance. Besides,” she continued, “I don’t honestly believe it was done intentionally. I mean, why would anyone want to hurt me?”
He growled low in his throat. Intention was irrelevant as far as he was concerned. Someone had hurt Kate. His Kate.
She reached over and laid her hand on his arm. “It’s not worth it, Chris.”
They were going to have to agree to disagree on that. Kate was worth everything to him. What he hated even more than Freed’s blatant nepotism was the fact that Kate didn’t see herself as worth a fuss.
If Freed wasn’t going to do anything about what had happened, then he would, and that started with a convo with Church and Cage.
To Kate, he said, “I need to head back over this afternoon and take care of some things. Sam asked you to come by if you’re feeling up to it.”
“Absolutely. Let me just do up these dishes quick.”
He took the plate from her hand. “I’ll do them. You can’t get your cast wet.”
“Then, I’ll dry,” she said, stubbornly lifting her chin and standing by his side.
He clamped his lips together, swallowed his protest, and handed her a dish towel.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Kate
Kate was in almost-heaven. Heaven because, after visiting with Duke and family, she spent the afternoon in the Sanctuary kitchen with Sam, devising new recipes and walking her through some tried-and-true favorites. Almost-heaven because she couldn’t partake as actively as she wanted to with one arm in a sling.
She spent some time with Sandy, too. Sandy shared some of her design ideas for Handelmann’s, and Kate was impressed. She apologized for not talking to her dad about the website. Sandy understood completely and told her not to worry about it, but Kate still felt bad.
She got to eat dinner with everyone, and that was really nice, too, even if the guys tended to be on the reserved side. Afterward, her efforts to assist with cleanup were completely steamrolled, and she was ushered off to spend time with the pups. She didn’t protest too loudly.
Smoke came to take Duke for a walk—apparently, it had become a thing with them—and Mama Dog decided she wanted to go along. Doc approached her while she was playing with the little ones.
“Have you given any more thought to what you’re going to do with them?” he asked.
“Not really, no.” She was trying her best not to think about that. The fact that everyone had kept asking didn’t make it any easier.
“Can I make a suggestion?”
“Of course.”
“Let us keep them.”
She gaped at him, certain she’d misheard. “What?”
“It’s a proven fact that petting a dog reduces stress and that bonding and caring for animals can be an important step in reacclimating into society.”
“You mean, make them therapy dogs?”
“Exactly! You’ve met Justin, right?”
Her mind went back to the thin guy she’d met the other night. “Yes.”
“The only time he comes out of his room is to see to the dogs. Spends hours in here with them, playing with them, caring for them. He’s even started talking to people a little, too. You don’t know how big a deal that is for him, Kate.”
Doc’s suggestion sounded like the perfect solution. These guys obviously took good care of them. There was plenty of room for them to roam around, and they’d be helping veterans. Plus, she could see them whenever she wanted.
“They’d all get to stay together?”
Doc nodded. “All of them.”
“Then, I think it sounds like a wonderful idea.”
“Great! I’ll talk to Church, and we’ll sketch out a plan.”
Kate’s great day continued when she and Chris said good night later that evening and went back to his trailer. She told him about Doc’s idea as well as how much she’d enjoyed spending time with Sam and Sandy. He seemed pleased.
“What did you do today?” she asked as she slipped into another one of his shirts. This time, she didn’t bother asking.
“Worked on some designs,” he said vaguely.
“What kind of designs? More greenhouses? Or something else?”
Mad Dog shrugged out of his shirt, using that one-armed, over-the-head maneuver guys did. Her eyes immediately went to the expanse of his back, watching the ripple of muscles, and her brain went on temporary lockdown. He cast a glance over his shoulder, hands poised at the clasp of his jeans.
“Is that what you want to talk about, Kate? My designs?”
Just like that, her body heated, and the area between her legs began to throb—and not because of her injuries. “No.” She waved her good hand in a circular get on with it motion. “Please, continue.”
He grinned wickedly and did. She watched, transfixed, as she got her first good side-and-partial back view of the man’s lower half. She grew damper by the second. Simply put, he was what Kylie would call fuck-hot.