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The dogs wolfed down their food and he led them to the back door.
“A quick run, you guys,” he said. “Then I have to go again. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”
He hoped Carrie wasn’t falling asleep in the car. Then again, maybe she needed it.
At the far end of the field, Gun let out an excited yelp and trotted into the underbrush. The other dogs stopped, lifted their heads and set out to join him.
Good. Let them chase a rabbit for a few minutes. That would make them happy.
Carrie was attracted to him – her response to his kiss had confirmed that beyond all doubt – but Ethan suspected it wasn’t him so much as the bad-boy image he represented. She wanted to break out of the rigid confines of her Cherry Lake persona and someone like him would be just the way to do it.
But if she was so bent out of shape about her pictures being seen by the locals, what chance was there that her interest in him was anything more than a bit of personal rebellion?
Hell, could he honestly say his own interest was legitimate? He’d been lonely for so long, he’d probably react like this to anyone as cute, friendly, funny, nice and sweet as Carrie. She was tough to resist. But for exactly all those reasons, she was not for him.
She was a joiner. He was a loner. Firewalls, barricades, blockades, those were his specialty. It’s what kept people and their information safe. He built them for others, he maintained them for himself. It was only smart. Sooner or later, even if Carrie was genuinely interested in the real Ethan, she’d see that the real Ethan came with a lot of baggage that she didn’t want to handle.
Best if he accepted this now, prevented the inevitable pain.
Unfortunately, every time he’d convinced himself of this, that damn blue vase popped into his mind.
Did he really have her pegged so neatly?
The way her hair fell over her pale shoulders in a warm, honey-gold waterfall, one wavy lock trickling over to tease her breast, that sweet half-smile, innocent and sexy all at once, all of it stuck in his brain, making him doubt himself.
Tempting him to take a chance on her.
A racket sounded at the far end. Whatever Gun had found, it had them all stirred up. Impulsive as he was, his enthusiasm was contagious and great for morale.
Ethan had been like that, once. Ready to take chances, risk being wrong, gambling that his skills and wits would outsmart his opponents.
He’d won. But then Vincent had tried to follow in his footsteps.
The barking escalated and Ethan walked out, shading his face with his hands. The low shrubbery rustled at the fence line as Gun pushed and snuffled, his tail waving like a flag. It was a strong alert. He’d definitely found something. Ashur and Mars stood back, stiff-legged, their lips twitching, their eyes pinned to something only they could see.
Suspicious.
“Dogs,” he called. “Here.”
At the sound of his voice, Gun went mad, barking and snarling, throwing himself at the fence. Then the other dogs leaped in as well, their hackles raised, their voices raised in frantic snarling.
Oh no.
But before Ethan could call out, the backlit greenery opened, and a black bear hurtled through the brush, straight for the young dog.
From the distance he was at, all Ethan could see was a snake-like head aimed low, jaws agape, muscles rippling, then a tangle of brown and black, tumbling, shrieking, rolling.
He raced for the shed, grabbed the shotgun he kept hidden behind the door.
“Carrie,” he yelled. “Stay in the car.”
He ran out to join the melee, his heart pounding.
Damn it! He should have paid attention to the reaction of the more experienced dogs and known it wasn’t just a rabbit.
Ashur and Mars were doing their best now, leaping off and on the bruin’s broad back, snapping and snarling wildly, twisting and turning to keep away from the sharp claws and white teeth.
Where was Gun?
Ethan fired once into the air and immediately, the bear threw off the dogs and bolted back into the underbrush, bawling.
Ashur and Mars chased after it and that’s when Ethan saw the younger dog, lying on his side, exactly where the bear had been standing.
He raced to his dog’s side, yelling for the others to return.
“Oh shit, oh damn, damn, buddy,” he muttered as he fell to his knees. “Hey Gunny, hey boy, it’s gonna be all right.”
