RESCUED (Elkridge Series Book 6) Read online

  He took a step toward her. “Karly, don’t you dare put this on me.”

  “The way I see it, you’ve been asking for work around town, and I’ve just given you work. Is it the responsibility you don’t want, or is it because of me? If it’s just me…that’s a pathetic excuse for refusing to help a little girl.”

  “Our history has nothing to do with this, and you know it.”

  She studied the former soldier, who looked both comfortably familiar and vastly different. “When it comes to you, I don’t know squat. What I do know is I have a business to run. Every day I have to decide which animals to keep and which animals I can’t save. I can’t keep them all.” Like I couldn’t keep you.

  Thad studied the dog for a good long while before his head dropped onto his chest in acceptance. “Give me overnight to think about it.”

  Cautious. Introspective. Calculating. Things never changed.

  At least he’d given an inch. If he’d set his mind against helping, nothing would have changed it, short of the sun falling out of the sky.

  “Then think about it—hard. I meant what I said. You’re Custer’s last chance. I know you can train him. You’re the only one I know who’s more stubborn than he is.”

  She rolled up the window, and then shoved the gear into reverse, spinning the car around so fast she lost sight of him in the cloud of dust.

  A seething cauldron of emotions boiled her senses to the point of numbness. She shoved the car into drive.

  Halfway back to town, she realized the one question she needed to have answered for so long had gone unanswered.

  Then again, maybe discovering the real reason he left town wouldn’t help.

  Sometimes knowing the why of things didn’t heal a hurt…and this hurt had almost destroyed her.

  “Don’t look at me like that.” Thad glared at Custer.

  The dog gave him a woe-is-me look that just about did Thad in. He’d sworn never to train another dog. Damn mutts could burrow in and tear a man in two when they paid the price for their loyalty.

  He fisted his hand, fighting back the memories blowing into his head like a sandstorm—memories of trauma, pain, loss.

  With every tick of the second hand, details came trotting back to remind him of his time in the hospital, and worse, reminding him of the brotherhood killed by his carelessness. Loneliness and isolation were his legacy in the aftermath. He’d thought he wanted to get away, disappear, but the past few weeks had proven he didn’t know what the hell he wanted.

  Custer whined and pushed his nose through the metal grid. “I’m okay. It’s okay.” Thad poked his fingers through the metal holes to provide comfort and a scratch.

  The vibration of his phone brought him back, and he looked at the number. A smile meandered into place. “S’up, Neon?”

  “How’s that mountain life treating you? See any bears yet?”

  The friendly conversation eased his knotted muscles and wrestled down the relentless voice in his head. Day and night, the sound of his father’s disgust rattled on and on and on. He couldn’t sleep or eat, and sometimes he wondered whether breathing was still the right thing to do.

  Thad shifted to look at the mountain ridge behind his cabin. “They’re around. Elk. Moose. Mountain Lions. Fox. They’re all here. You can look them up on the internet if you don’t know what they look like.”

  “Bugger off.”

  Thad managed to summon a laugh, something he hadn’t been able to accomplish in weeks, and all because of Neil Doucette. “Just because you’re a city boy from New Orleans who thrives on spicy food and women, doesn’t mean I live in Dulltown, USA. What’s up?” Thad asked, trying to keep a gut-wrenching regret from seeping into his voice. “Ready to go back to work?”

  “It won’t be the same without you, buddy. I always thought you’d be a lifer.”

  “If it weren’t for that IED, I’d still be there.” Thad closed his eyes, fighting against the sounds and sights and smells of war.

  The first day of basic training, he and Neil were as different as odd and even. Seven months of training and bullet-flying conditions created moments where opposites could become best friends. He counted Neon among the best.

  “Nothing will ever be the same.” A heated blade of guilt slid into Thad’s gut.

  “Catch your meaning, Monk. I wish—”

  “Don’t be getting all pansy on me.” Thad dropped his head and closed his eyes to lock down the memories. “No looking back. Remember? You promised.”

  “You got it.”

  The silence weighted his shoulders like a sixty-pound rucksack on a ten-mile uphill march. The cool mountain breeze brushed across his skin.

  “Hey, have you seen Kenny’s sister?” Neon pushed to break through the conversational lull. “From her recent picture, she’s a hottie.”

  “Her name’s Karly, and, yeah, I’ve seen her.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “Don’t tell me you’re still flipping that coin—heads or tails.” Neon’s chuckle reminded him of prairie dog chatter. “Every girl who ever turned your head looked just like her. You need to pull your head out and decide one way or another. You could have been killed protecting Kenny. And don’t give me any of that protect-your-brother bull. You’ve gotten in more shit shielding his six than at any other time. I don’t get you, man.”

  “No, I suppose you wouldn’t. It’s history.”

  “That’s crap, Monk, and you know it. You have the hots for this woman, or you wouldn’t have dismissed every girl I’ve ever introduced you to.”

  “Maybe if you introduced me to women who wanted more than a meal and a roll in the sack with a guy in uniform, then maybe I wouldn’t have bailed.”

  “Dude. Women are all the same.”

  Not all women. “Neon. You’ve got a red neon sign with the words ‘come to daddy’ plastered on your chest. One of these days, you’ll want something different. Something steadier.”

  “I doubt it. If you want to stay a monk the rest of your life, that’s your problem.” Neon gave another snort and a chuckle. “Hey…I forgot. Did you ask her yet?”

  No confessions here. “Didn’t get a chance. Besides, she wouldn’t apologize.” She didn’t before. “She was too busy dropping off a dog.”

  “A dog? That’s just harsh.”

  Thad’s gut seized and knotted. “She doesn’t know. No one stateside does except my mom and sister, and they’re in Texas. I’d like to keep it that way.”

  He’d spoken in such a hushed tone, he wasn’t sure if he’d said the words aloud. His brain traffic seemed rather congested these days.

  “Hey, Thad? You okay, man? ’Cause if you need me to come up there and kick your butt, I’m still game.”

  “No. I’m okay. Just need some space to breathe, and a few months to get the dust out of my pores.”

  His voice remained stable and level, but the tilt-o-whirl of life unbalanced him. No matter what Karly believed, another dog wouldn’t help him find his steady.

  “Didn’t you tell me Colorado was lacking in the air department?”

  A laugh managed to leak out as Thad shook his head. “You mean oxygen, not air.”

  “You know what I meant.”

  “I swear, sometimes I wonder how you made sergeant.”

  “I keep telling you. Those Air Force ladies have multiple levels of talent when it comes to tutoring.”

  “The next time I take some classes, I’ll keep that in mind. However, you should stick with the Army women. I wouldn’t want that large, protruding object on the front of your face to get busted up again. It would ruin that pretty Hollywood profile of yours.”

  “I can handle those boys in blue.”

  “I’m sure you can, but when you get a nasty one, it’s somehow always perfectly timed to get the whole platoon involved. Keep in mind, I won’t be there to bail your sorry ass out anymore.”

  “Go to hell.”

  Already there, dude. Already there.
Thad released a self-deprecating snort of humor. At least he could still laugh, even if the cause was a bit off-kilter. The IED hadn’t taken that from him, even if it had taken pretty much everything else.

  He gave the dog watching him a long study. “Hey, Neon. I’d better run. I’ve got a dog I’m supposed to teach a thing or two.”

  “If anyone can train that dog, it’s you.”

  “Thanks for the vote and call. Hey, and watch out for Kenny, would you?” ‘Cause Karly would lose it if anything happened to her brother.

  “Will do, Monk. You have my number. Keep in mind the phone works both ways.”

  Yeah, but I can’t handle hearing about the guys right now. “Catch you later.”

  Thad shoved his phone back in his pocket and slowly lowered into a squat in front of Custer’s cage—searing pain blasting up his leg to the middle of his back. He gritted his teeth and stuck his fingers through the wire to give the dog a good sniff.

  “Bet you didn’t know George Armstrong Custer was my favorite United States Army commander.” But Karly did. “He’s a screwup…just like me. I joined the military to show my dad I could take a bullet—tried damned hard to make it happen. I should be dead.” He snorted in disgust, “I couldn’t even manage to do that right. I got my friends killed instead. How pathetic is that?”

  He opened the kennel and let the dog smell him some more. Custer turned to look down the road with a sorrowful face.

  “You’ll see her again. Don’t worry. But here’s your first lesson.” He slid his hand gently over the dog’s head. “Women are trouble. Heaps of trouble. They can kick you in the balls and break your heart. Stay away from them.” He gave the dog a good scratch behind the ear. “That is, unless the female in question is under the age of four and needs you to carry her oxygen tank.”

  Chapter Two

  Not much had changed in Elkridge, and that's what Thad had counted on. The sleepy little town nestled between two mountain ridges was exactly what he needed. No major shopping malls. No loud construction noises. No fast movements that put his military-honed senses on high alert and reminded him of a place he didn’t want to remember.

  “Hey, Coach.”

  The owner of Tool Shed dropped his chin to look over the top of his bifocals. The years had put a little more weight around Bill’s middle, and he was a bit more hunched at the shoulders, but his old football coach was still sharp and observant. There were few things in life Thad was grateful for—Bill Mason was one of them.

  “Howdy, Thad. My son-in-law said you were in the other day. How are the repairs coming?”

  Thad grabbed the brim of his ball cap, lifted, and scratched his head. “That cabin needs a ton of work. I came in for some caulking and weather stripping, and I need to order a window.” Thad pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. “Got something with those dimensions?”

  Bill accepted the scrap and peered through the bottom of his lenses. “I don’t have anything in stock, but I can order it for you.” He waited for Thad’s nod, then walked around the counter and pulled the rest of the items off the shelf. “Anything else you need?”

  “That’ll do for now. I just need to fix the holes before I freeze to death. Going from the desert heat to the mountain air is a shock to the system.”

  “Just as bad as coming back from ’Nam and the humidity.” Bill rang up the supplies. “That will be five bucks even.”

  Thad added up the price on the sales stickers. “I might have barely passed algebra, but I can still add, sir.” He threw a ten on the counter. “Keep the change.”

  “Stop with the sir crap. I don’t see any officers around here.”

  “Yes, sir.” Thad’s mouth twitched, and his chest rumbled with a snicker.

  “Still a stubborn shit.” Bill snatched the money off the counter and shoved it into the cash register drawer. “It’s not much, but I’ve got a couch you can sleep on till that window comes in. You’d be warm at least.”

  Not looking for handouts. “Thanks, Coach, but I’m good.”

  “Figured you’d say that.” Bill placed the items in a brown paper bag. “We’re having a meeting tonight over at the lodge to discuss our volunteer rescue training calendar. Why don’t you stop by, meet some of the guys? We even have a few ladies in the group now.”

  Matchmaking? Please…not you too. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll pass. Besides, I need to find something I can do to put food on the table.”

  “The Army should have set you up with a pension with ten years in.”

  “They did, but money doesn’t stick around when there’s a family to support. My mom lost her job and hasn’t been able to find work.”

  “I’d give you a job, but—”

  “I’m not asking for charity, Coach. I’ve got enough for now.” He capped off his irritation by attempting a smile. “I’ll find something in time.”

  “I talked to the town council last month about creating jobs to keep our young folk here. Too many are joining the military and coming back busted up. It’s either working the ski resorts or construction, with not much in between. I heard they got some openings at the Elkridge Lodge.”

  “That snobby place? No, thanks. I’d rather do construction. ’Cause skiing is out.” Never could afford those lift prices.

  The store bell rang just as Bill was winding up for another soapbox rant.

  The storeowner shoved his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. “Hey, Rivers. I was just telling young Thad here about our meeting tonight.”

  Rivers Black walked toward them with a slow, methodical gait. With each footfall, he measured Thad—the boy then, and the man now.

  “Rivers,” Thad greeted.

  “Lopez.” Rivers’ eyes squinted to continue the assessment.

  Thad recalled the night his racist father tried to teach the “Injun” a lesson. His father misjudged the Native American, just like his dad misjudged most everything else in his pathetic life.

  “How was hunting season?” Thad asked to be courteous.

  “Freezer’s full.”

  “You still making jewelry, belts, and stuff?”

  “Yep.”

  The grunted responses were typical, yet soothing. Another reminder not much had changed in Elkridge. Thad nodded and waited until the stillness started to become uneasy. “I’d better get going.”

  “What about the meeting?” Bill looked to Rivers. “You’re the training coordinator, tell him what’s on the agenda, Black.”

  Rivers watched Thad like a hawk scanning the ground for its prey. “He’ll come, or he won't. A man must make his choices.”

  A déjà vu chill ran up Thad’s arms. One of his drill sergeants said the same thing. Over the years Thad had wondered how his life would have turned out if his dad hadn’t made so many bad choices.

  “Maybe I’ll stop in another time.” The way Bill was looking at him meant a lecture was coming, and he wasn’t in the mood. Thad grabbed his bag of supplies to disguise his growing anxiety and backed toward the door. “Thanks, Bill. Rivers.”

  Bill walked around the counter. “You know where to find me if you need anything.”

  “Yes, sir.” Thad gave him a friendly salute, then pushed open the door, laughing at the curmudgeon’s annoyed expression.

  He might be crankier than an old Buick, but Bill Mason understood. The Marine had brought his military discipline home to Elkridge, and used it to knock some sense into the high school football players. Fortunately, Thad was one of them.

  Thad dropped the supplies in the truck bed by Custer’s kennel. “Hey, bud. Want to go see Karly and visit all your friends?”

  Thad didn’t wait for a response, just slid in behind the wheel, and a few seconds later backed out of the parking space. Pulling into Helper Shelters dirt parking lot, he parked at one of the marked spaces denoted by a half-buried tire painted canary yellow.

  He paused to slow his breath and let his determination kick in. He pocketed his keys. He wouldn�
�t tolerate any more of that polite “howdy-do, and here’s a dog to train” crap. This time he’d get a truthful answer, one way or another.

  “Stay.” He opened the door of Custer’s travel crate. “Good boy.” He pulled a treat out of his jeans pocket and held out his palm. The dog lifted the nugget gently instead of lunging. “That’s a good boy.” Thad adjusted the dog’s lead.

  “Come,” he motioned. Custer jumped off the tailgate, but went no farther. The attentive dog’s stare gave him a jolt of pride. Now that’s progress. He shortened the leash strap for the dog to heel and made his way toward the building.

  He soaked in the sight of the old industrial shipping containers. The blue metal structures were lined up side by side, creating the inexpensive kennel framing just as he and Karly planned during their long-ago summer vacations. He was impressed, and a little sad. At fourteen, she’d shared her dream, and he hadn’t been here to watch it grow.

  Rows of wire fences surrounded the twenty-by-forty-foot kennels, and dogs could go outside or back into their holding pens through swinging doors drilled into the sides. A large, painted sign and old-fashioned lights, most likely also recycled, hung off the top of the first of six containers.

  Just inside the customer entrance, the scents of borax, lavender, and vanilla wafted and twisted together. Karly ran an orderly business—not that he expected anything less. An oversized corkboard displayed the current month's schedule of training classes, thank-you notes, and pictures of adoption candidates. He stopped at the tidy reception desk.

  “Karly?” he called out, then listened for a response.

  When there was no answer, he moved closer to the reception desk and spied a small office in the back, jam-packed with file cabinets, a desk and a computer. It, too, was empty. He moved across the lobby and pushed open the kennel door marked with an employees-only sign. “Karly?”

  A chorus of barks greeted him. He moved down the center of the wired cages. Custer trotted alongside with a look-at-me attitude while he ignored his former fellow inmates—the cocky bastard.