“No!” Loree yelled as she began running toward the trees.
Austin surged to his feet, ran after her, and grabbed her arm, halting her frantic race to the trees. “Where’s my rifle?”
“In the corner of the front room, by the hearth.”
“Come with me while I get it.”
She shook her head vigorously. “I’ll wait here but hurry.”
He didn’t trust her to stay, but he heard the dog’s wounded cry, the cat’s victorious screech, and knew he had no time to argue. With his heart thundering, he raced inside the house. He grabbed his rifle, loaded it, and shoved a handful of bullets into his pocket. Then he tore back outside, rounded the corner, and staggered to a stop in the clearing.
The woman was gone!
“Loree!” Fear for her edged any rational thoughts aside. He stalked toward the trees where the dog had disappeared. “Loree!”
He no longer heard the thrashing of battle. An eerie silence settled over the woods. He tread carefully between the trees, his heart hammering. When he found the woman he planned to shake her every way but loose for scaring the holy hell out of him. How dare she risk her life for a stupid dog.
He found her kneeling between two mighty oak trees, rocking back and forth, silent tears streaming down her cheeks, her arms wrapped around her dog. Austin knelt beside her. “Loree?”
She opened her eyes, the golden depths revealing her ravaged grief. “He was all I had left,” she whispered hoarsely. “He was just a dog, but I loved him.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “You take the rifle and I’ll carry him to the house.”
“Let me hold him for just a minute … while he’s still warm.”
She buried her face in Digger’s thick fur. Austin scanned the trees, his ears alert. He didn’t like the thought of Loree living out here alone with wild animals. The deer he didn’t mind, but a bobcat was another story.
Gently, he touched Loree’s shoulder. “We need to get back before it’s too dark.”
She lifted her head, sniffed, and nodded. Blood had stained the front of her dress and panic surged through him. “You’re hurt.”
She glanced down before lifting a vacant gaze to his. “No, it’s Digger’s blood. The cat was gone by the time I got here.”
“You should have stayed by the house like I told you.”
“I was worried about Digger. He never backs—backed—away from a fight.”
“Christ, your mother was right. You put a dog before yourself—”
“I’d put anyone, anything I loved before myself. I don’t see that as a fault.”
He didn’t mean to sound harsh, didn’t want to lecture her, but the thought that she might have been the cat’s next victim had him shaking clear down to his boots. “Take the rifle.”
She grabbed it, and he slipped his arms beneath the dog. He ignored the pain shooting through his back as he strained to lift the heavy beast. With the darkness closing in around them, they walked in silence to the house, his boots breaking dried twigs, her feet scattering the fragile leaves that had died last autumn.
“Will you bury him near the garden? That’s where he liked to dig,” she said quietly as they neared the house.
“Sure will. You got a shovel?”
“In the barn.”
“I’ll get it. Why don’t you go inside and wash up?”
Nodding, she leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of the dog’s head. “Bye, Digger.”
Austin watched her run to the front of the house, leaving him feeling useless. Giving comfort had never been his strong suit, was something he hadn’t even known existed until Amelia had come into their lives.
He laid the dog on the ground. He walked to the quilt where he had shared a few peaceful moments with Loree. In her rush to get to the dog, she’d knocked over the bowl, spilling sugar over the quilt. Ants were having a picnic. Austin picked up the bowl and shook out the rest of the sugar, wishing he knew how to ease Loree’s grief as easily.
