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ch he had tried to get his mind on other things, his thoughts kept coming back to Harper moving to Las Vegas. For two months, he had been waiting for her to make a decision, hoping to hell she would decide to stay in River Rock. This was not the outcome he wanted. He tipped his head back against the wall, his eyes shutting tight as his mind returned him to a lesson he had never forgot.
On the porch of the farmhouse, Rick Blackshaw’s dark brown Stetson cowboy hat rested low on his face. His hard, brown eyes simmered with anger, while his finger pointed at Nash. “You made her cry, Nash. You made a sweet little girl cry because you were mean to her.” Chase and Shep stood next to Nash. That was how their father punished. When one brother got in trouble, they all got it. To learn from each other’s mistakes, Dad once told them. “What do you say for yourself?” he demanded.
A seven-year-old Nash cried, “I wanted the swing.”
“It doesn’t matter what you wanted, son. Blackshaws are not selfish and cruel to others.” His voice boomed across the yard, and Dad always seemed so big and tall when he was angry. “Tomorrow, you’re going to bring that little girl wild flowers you’ll pick before getting onto the bus. Then you will apologize to her for thinking of yourself over her. Tell me you understand?”
Nash bowed his head. “I understand, sir.”
Dad glanced between the three brothers with a long slow look. “Remember this well, boys. A man does not take someone’s happiness away; he does what he can to enrich the lives around him. Am I clear?”
The boys nodded.
His father gestured Shep and Chase toward the house. “You boys go wash up for dinner.” To Nash, he flicked his chin toward the barn. “Go muck stalls. When you’re done, you come in for your meal.”
“Yes, sir.” Nash turned, dragging his feet to the barn, head still bowed.
Chase and Shep glanced at each other, then booked it into the house, not wanting to be on the receiving end of Dad’s wrath.
The high-pitched voice of the weather person on the television pulled Chase from the memory. He had remembered that time his father came down hard on Nash. Not that Nash didn’t deserve it. He often caused the most ruckus in the family. Though Chase remembered learning a valuable lesson that day, seeing the harsh disappointment in his father’s eyes. Chase never wanted to hurt anyone. He also heard the message his father had spoken and believed in it. He wanted to enrich lives, not selfishly take any happiness away. Not from anyone. And certainly not from Harper.
Though at the same time, now that she had made her decision to leave, everything changed. He was not in danger of stealing her dreams anymore. Somewhere between the weather reporter chatting away on the news and the sports recap, clarity hit him. Eight days, that was all he had left with her. He would not waste them.
With his next steps becoming all too clear, he dropped his hands from his face, settling his cowboy hat in place again when the front door opened. Harper entered the clinic, her eyes fraught with worry. A River Rock cop, Darryl, from Chase’s graduating class in high school, followed her in. Clad in his blue uniform, Darryl hadn’t changed much from his days of being the star quarterback on the football team. Still in shape, same scruffy beard, same dark, hard eyes.
“You’ve had an interesting night,” Darryl said, offering his hand.
“You could say that.” Chase rose, returning the strong handshake. “Any word on the person responsible?”
“Not yet.” A disembodied voice sounded from the speaker of his radio attached to his shirt. He turned down the volume, then added, “I’ve got the team at the bar checking the security cameras. I suspect we’ll catch the person that way.”
Harper’s gasp drew Chase’s gaze. She pressed a hand against her chest, eyes bulging. “You think whoever did this tossed the puppy into the garbage before going into the bar for a drink?”
Darryl nodded. “Why else would the perpetrator choose that garbage bin? I suspect they thought the pup was close to dying and wanted the fastest way to get rid of him.”
“That’s disgusting,” Harper snapped, crossing her arms, drawing into herself. “This person deserves to hurt. Like pull - your - fingernails - off - one - by - one kind of hurt.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you,” Chase wisely remarked. Through the years of being Brody’s best friend, Chase had seen on a handful of occasions that an angry Harper was often a force to be reckoned with.
“Neither am I,” Darryl added dryly. “Believe me, we’ll catch whoever did this, and they’ll be punished to the full extent of the law.” He paused to scratch his beard, then asked Chase, “How’s the pup doing?”
“The puppy is fine.”
Chase glanced over his shoulder, discovering Leah, wearing a long white coat with her jet-black hair pulled up in a ponytail. She entered the reception area holding the puppy, wrapped up in blankets like a baby.
“He’s totally fine?” Chase asked in disbelief, considering the rough shape he had been in when Harper found him.
Leah offered Chase the puppy. “Well, I wouldn’t say totally fine, but he’s alive.” When he took the sleeping pup in his arms, holding him like a football in one arm, Leah turned to Darryl and continued, “I suspect the person who did this is a backyard breeder of purebred Labradors.”
Darryl took out his notepad and pen from the front of his shirt. “What makes you say that?”
Leah leaned against the reception desk and held up one finger. “First, no good breeder would ever do this to one of their puppies.” She held up two fingers. “Second, he’s most definitely a purebred Labrador, probably around seven weeks old.” She held up a third finger. “Third, he’s got juvenile onset diabetes mellitus. It’s why he’s so little. His brothers and sisters are probably double the size. But this condition will definitely make him worthless in the eyes of the breeder.”
“Why worthless?” Harper asked, kissing the top of the puppy’s head.
Chase forced his body to ignore her mouth being so close to him, and he focused intently on Leah as she explained. “Because diabetes in dogs is a lifelong condition that would cost upwards of a couple hundred dollars a month. I suspect they might not have even known he has the condition, simply that he wasn’t growing properly and was sick.”
Chase didn’t like the sound of this. “Does he need to be put down?” he asked gently.
