“Roomier.”
“Do you have a thing against dogs on the bed?”
“A double bed? Yes. A queen- or king-size? No problem at all.”
Wow, strange how important that one little question was to her. And even stranger to take hope from it, when they had such larger concerns waiting back in the real world.
“I can’t imagine life without my dogs. Everything feels… simpler when they’re with me. My PTSD patients tell their dog things they haven’t been able to share. And once the wall comes down…” She wasn’t sure how she would have made it through losing Caden without her own dog then. She’d been so alone, without her mother. “There are even therapy dogs in some schools to help children gain confidence in reading. Dogs don’t judge. Their attention—their love—is unconditional, no matter how crummy a past they’ve come from themselves.”
“Maybe I should have gotten a dog instead of getting married every other week.” His voice was hoarse, groggy even, as he toyed with her hair. “I could have saved myself a boatload in legal fees and divorce settlements.”
“Maybe you should have.”
“I was joking.”
“I’m not.” She looked up to meet his eyes, the steady beat of the rain on the roof echoing the sound of her racing heart.
“Helluva way to tell me Fang is my new dog.”
Again, he’d tried to deflect with humor, but she wasn’t so easily sidetracked. “I would never push a dog on anyone. A pet deserves to be welcomed and wanted unconditionally. So do people, for that matter.”
Dog nails clicked on the floor, tracking around to Liam’s side of the bed. Fang rested her chin on the mattress next to him. His hand rested on top of the pup’s head. “What’ll happen to her now?”
“I’ll find a good home for her,” she answered vaguely, trying to push down how much she wanted that home to be with Liam.
For Fang. Not for her. That would be too rushed, of course.
“You could keep her and train her.” His hand smoothed over the puppy’s knobby brown head.
So he didn’t want her to give the dog away, but he hadn’t stepped up to claim Fang for himself. What was holding him back from doing that now? And why was she so certain committing to the dog would be a big cosmic sign he was ready to settle down for real?
“It’s too soon to decide if she has the necessary traits for that kind of work.” She burrowed closer to his side. “Have you ever had a pet?”
“My dad was allergic. Then I was traveling too much…”
The hesitation in his voice made her ask, “But?”
“There was this one time, back when I was an Army Ranger in Afghanistan. A stray dog hung out around our compound. He was a brown mutt type, like a German shepherd with no markings other than one white paw, his left front one. We unofficially adopted him.”
All these years and he remembered exactly what the dog looked like. Rachel’s heart squeezed. “What was his name?”
“Rocky.” Lightning sparked, filling the room with light as he stroked Fang’s nose. “He was always there waiting for us on top of a rock pile, even warned us a couple of times of a land mine or approaching enemy. Until he didn’t…”
“Didn’t?”
“Animal control works differently over there… or rather not at all. The insurgents shot him.”
Rachel didn’t even respond. Words would be trite, and he wasn’t really with her right now. His mind was clearly in another time and place.
“Things—missions—were tougher to cope with after he was gone. Rocky didn’t have any formal training, but he sure helped a bunch of worn out rangers get through the day.”
She’d heard about the horrors that soldiers faced, as they poured out their stories while holding on to any number of dogs. For some reason, rescued dogs seemed to have a special affinity for the job. Shared pain, perhaps? A wounded vet tapped into that belief in second chances.
And above all, dogs didn’t judge.
Liam’s hand slid from the puppy. “I probably could have used this little mutt back in the day, but I’m getting out now.”
“How does the team feel about that?” How did she feel about that? She didn’t know.