“Fine,” I assured him more firmly. I didn’t want him to feel conflicted, not when taking care of Hudson was far more important.
“Take care of her, Pete,” Travis instructed the police officer firmly. I wondered absently how he knew him.
“Will do, McAllister. I’ll tell the captain you said hello.”
Travis offered a chin lift, and with one final concerned glance my way, carried Hudson out the door.
I turned to Lindsey, offering her what I knew was a shaky smile. I had to keep myself together until the rest of the kids were picked up. I’d never in my teaching career wished more that throwing on a video was appropriate.
As though sensing something monumental had happened, the kids were remarkably well-behaved for the rest of the afternoon. I threw myself back into teaching, into reading to them and starting a painting project, and I forgot about the earlier incident for a time. That was one of the things I loved most about teaching—it was so much bigger than me. It was about them and their experience. I got to be a part of their childhood. To say that was empowering was an understatement at best.
Luckily, I didn’t have a yoga class to teach that evening and was able to go straight home. I was disappointed that Mabel wasn’t home, and after a hot shower poured a large glass of wine and huddled under my blankets on the couch.
With that innate sense animals always seemed to have, Buster and Able stayed close—even calling a truce, sharing the same blanket instead of fighting. I tried reading, but I was too preoccupied. Finally, I decided a movie was my best option for distraction. After a moment of indecision, I put onReservoir Dogs. It wasn’t the most cheerful movie, in fact it was downright gruesome, but at least it was familiar.
When a quiet knock sounded on my door halfway through, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
I headed for the door with shaking knees. “Yes?” I asked hesitantly through the door.
“It’s Travis.”
I took a shocked step back, looking down at my yoga pants and T-shirt that read “Yoga puts the ass in sassy” in dismay.
May had bought it for me last Christmas.
There was no time to change, or to put my hair into some semblance of order. I opened the door, peering out at him. “Um, hey,” I greeted him hesitantly.
“Hey,” he replied. “Sorry to show up unannounced. I didn’t think to ask Sam for your number. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
I was touched by his thoughtfulness. “I’m okay. Do you want to come in?” I gestured inside.
He nodded, stepping inside and looking around my place that was thankfully a bit more cleaned up from the last time he’d seen it.
“Don’t worry, you don’t need a hazmat suit this time,” I muttered dryly. “Do you want something to drink? I have some red open, or… water. And that’s pretty much it.”
He chuckled. “Red sounds good.”
I nodded, shuffling nervously toward the small kitchen as Able hopped off the couch to greet our guest.
“Is he a shepherd?” Travis called as I poured him a glass of wine.
“Definitely part shepherd,” I replied, returning with a glass in hand. I handed it over to him. “I think he has some collie in there too, maybe some lab. Do you have pets?”
He shook his head. “I’ve always liked dogs, but we never had one growing up. I work a lot and occasionally need to travel, so it just wouldn’t be fair,” he explained. “Sam has a dog, Trixie, a tiny little Chihuahua that’s surprisingly grown on me.” He chuckled.
I raised a brow. “I’ve met her.” I nodded. “And I can’t picture you anywhere near a Chihuahua.”
He laughed. “You’ll have to see it to believe it.”
I blushed at the insinuation that I’d see him again.
He stepped closer, his gaze zeroed in on the bruise that had formed on my upper arm. “I wish I had arrived a few minutes earlier,” he lamented, his fingers ever so gently tracing my bruise.
“I’m okay,” I murmured breathlessly.
“So you said,” he replied dryly. “You handled it well,” he added.
I shrugged. “I felt like a wreck, but I’d do anything to protect the kids.”
