For Love Of A Dog. Janice Carter

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       CHAPTER THREE

      NOT ONLY WAS she surprised by his arrival, Kai Westfield seemed seriously alarmed. He wondered why. Hadn’t McDougall let her know he was coming for the dog? Amigo. His squirming, enthusiastic body warm and familiar to Luca’s hand. The animal’s huge affection and loyalty for him was momentarily overwhelming. Luca bent as far as his knee permitted, lowered his head to Amigo’s ear and whispered, “Good boy.” He blinked away the dampness in his eyes before straightening. The woman, hands on hips and face flushed, looked ready to do battle. Luca summoned his best smile.

      “I’m Luca Rossi,” he said, extending his right hand. “And I assume you’re Kai Westfield? The photographer who brought Amigo home for me? Corporal McDougall has told me how gracious you were about taking Amigo and about the problem handing him over. I appreciate the trouble you went to, and the inconvenience of looking after him for these past few weeks.”

      She took a moment to respond, tucking strands of chestnut-colored hair behind her ear. Composing herself? Luca wondered.

      “I told Corporal McDougall that the dog had settled in here, and it wasn’t necessary for anyone to come and get him.”

      Wasn’t necessary? That nettled. “Well, after all the trouble my men went to so that Amigo could come to the States, I think it was most assuredly necessary for me to come and get him. Thank you again for your trouble, and if you were out of pocket at all as a result of Amigo’s transport here, I’m happy to reimburse you.”

      “There’s far more at stake here than compensation. No amount of money would make me relinquish Amigo.”

      Relinquish? Were they talking about a dog she’d had in her possession for a few weeks? Or some kind of war booty? “Miss Westfield, I’m not sure what the problem is here. You agreed to bring my dog to me, and I understand the complications—both on my side and on yours—that made delivery of Amigo impossible at the time. But now I’m here to collect my dog and—” Interrupted by the blast of a horn, he turned sharply to the highway, registering at the same time her own quick pivot and mild oath.

      “It’s the school bus,” she said. “I have to go get Thomas. We meet him at the end of the road. Amigo and I.” She’d just uttered his name when Amigo sprinted forward, heading up the long, narrow road to the highway. Then she took off after the dog.

      Luca frowned, watching the two of them jog up the drive. The whole scenario was getting more complicated by the second and wasn’t going at all as he’d planned. Still, flexibility could be necessary at times, and perhaps this was one of them. He’d adopt a more conciliatory manner when she came back with Thomas, whoever that might be. A son? McDougall hadn’t mentioned anything personal about the woman other than her profession, and he hadn’t noticed a wedding ring. But then his focus had been on her growing anger.

      His gaze shifted to the house before him and the surrounding area. He hadn’t noticed much of anything when he’d pulled up behind her pickup, other than her confrontational stance. But now he saw that the white frame, two-story house with its old-fashioned veranda could use a fresh coat of paint. To the far left was a bungalow clad in gray aluminum siding with a smaller porch and to the right of the farmhouse, a detached two-car garage. Behind that he saw two more outbuildings. The smaller one seemed to be a shed and the other a red-painted barn. The land behind the house stretched beyond his sight line. The fields were bare, speckled with what appeared to be weeds. Not that Luca knew anything about weeds or even crops for that matter, but to his urban eye, the place seemed to be in a state of neglect. That puzzled him a bit; surely farmers would be planting in May?

      At least, that’s what some farmers had done. He’d passed miles of fields neatly furrowed, some even sprouting small green shoots. The place just before his turnoff to the Westfield property had been immaculate, its fields and stately farmhouse a possible feature in some country living magazine.

      The rumble of the school bus continuing on its way drew his attention back to the driveway. Through the line of trees siding the gravel drive he could just make out Westfield and a small boy. Amigo was bounding back and forth between the boy and the ditches on either side of the drive. Bounding happily, Luca noted. That worried him a little.

      As the pair got closer, Luca saw that the boy—small-boned, red-haired and freckled—had spotted him and hung back. When they finally came to a stop in front of him, Luca said, “Hello. You must be Thomas,” and extended his right hand.

      The boy kept his eyes on the ground, ignoring Luca’s hand. Luca looked at the woman, who bent to whisper something in his ear. Without a glance at either of them, Thomas slouched over to the veranda, where he sat on the lowest step, elbows on his knees and hands cupping his lowered head.

      Luca didn’t know much about kids, but he recognized misery when he saw it. “What’s happening? Your, uh, son? Is he okay?”

      Her face was pale, and she looked as unhappy as the boy. “Well...Thomas—he’s my nephew, by the way—he’s feeling bad about you taking Amigo.”

      “But surely he knew I was coming for my dog.” He saw from the way she swung her head his way that his tone had annoyed her.

      “He didn’t know you’d be coming to take him back.”

      What a complete mess this whole situation was. Amigo, who had given up his sniffing around the garage doors, ran over to the boy. Leaping and whining failed to draw the kid’s attention, so Amigo trotted back to Luca. There had been few times in his adulthood when Luca hadn’t known what to do. This was one of them.

      She saved him the trouble of a decision. “Just take the dog,” she hissed. “Leave right now. I’ll explain everything to Thomas after.”

      The vehemence in her face stopped any token protest he might have made. He headed for his SUV, aware of Amigo panting behind him, and opened the passenger-side door. “Here, boy.” Luca snapped his fingers. Amigo sat on his haunches, cocking his head. “Inside.” Luca snapped his fingers again, pointing into the SUV.

      Amigo craned his head back toward Thomas, who was still staring at his feet, before leaping СКАЧАТЬ