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How he wished she’d tell him what was going on in her mind! But he didn’t know how to draw her out or how much he could push her. He sure didn’t want to push her farther into her shell.
Josh ran his hand under Poirot’s chin. “You gonna let me carry you out now?”
He let out a throaty, affirmative bark.
“Good.” Josh gave the dog an affectionate head rub. Then let his hand drift to Chloe. At first, he reached for her face but redirected his touch to her shoulder. “He’ll be okay. He found Tasha and Rick because he pushed through. He’s a tough dog.” He wanted to add some sort of accolade to her endurance too, but everything felt contrived, so he kept his mouth shut.
Chloe opened the hatch of her SUV and stepped to the side so Josh could set Poirot in the back. She got the dog’s food and water dishes and filled them.
She scratched behind his ear. “You did such a great job today, buddy. We’ll get you to the vet soon. Just hang tight here. I’ll be back soon.”
Poirot laid his chin on his paws and looked like he was ready for a good nap.
She closed the hatch and turned to Josh. Words formed in her mind, but she couldn’t get her mouth to work. She wanted to talk and process all that had just happened, to explain to Josh her fears that had reared their Hydra-like heads today. But nothing.
They just walked to the debriefing area in silence.
Josh sat on the end of someone’s truck bed. She sat next to him, perhaps a little too close, but the strength that oozed from this man almost seemed to suck her in.
Kristinn brought cups of hot cider to everyone.
Chloe wrapped her cold hands around the paper cup and willed the heat to soak into her bones.
Josh must have noticed because he scooted a little closer. Almost touching, but not quite.
Her mind screamed at her to inch away from him, but she couldn’t. Something she couldn’t identify made her want to lean in. But she didn’t do that either.
The debriefing went well, and neither Josh nor Lance brought up why Poirot had injured his paw. She wasn’t about to either. She could barely admit to herself that her distraction and fear of heights had caused her to panic. It was stupid. Poirot should never have gotten hurt. He was sure-footed—practically a mountain goat—but only when Chloe didn’t startle him.
When the debrief was over, the group dispersed. Josh jumped off the truck bed and offered Chloe his hand. She didn’t need it, but he knew that. So what was with the gesture?
She took it and slid to the ground.
“Ready to get Poirot to the vet?”
She let go of his hand, but before she could answer, another member of their greater search and rescue team interrupted. “Hey, Chloe. Just so you know, I passed your card on to a couple of people who are looking for new houses.”
“Fantastic. Thanks.”
The person disappeared as fast as they’d appeared.
Josh hadn’t left her side. “Business going well?”
“It’s December. It’s going as well as it can, I guess. A couple new clients would help a lot.”
They walked to their cars, and Josh stopped instead of walking to his driver’s door, and it appeared that he was going to say something.
“What’s up?” She couldn’t believe she was actually prodding him to say something. It was almost always the other way around.
“I know you can’t go for our usual coffee since you need to take Poirot to the vet . . . but would you like me to join you?”
“If you do, we can get coffee afterward,” she said.
His smile revealed his teeth. “We could.”
His smile was so big she couldn’t help but reciprocate. “Then follow me.” She opened her car door and slid in. Poirot poked his head between the seats since the back seat was laid flat. “Can Josh come with us to the vet?”
Poirot barked.
