Danger at Her Door. Beth Cornelison

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      Megan drew her brows together as she frowned. “No. It must’ve been a stray.”

      “Which means that dog could be anywhere now.” He sighed his frustration. “Great.”

      Despite her clear concern over the idea of a mean stray in the neighborhood, the tension surrounding Megan visibly eased. Her dog had been exonerated.

      The hope, relief and dawning of understanding reflected in Megan’s eyes were the mirror opposite of the feelings spreading through his chest. Remorse for his false accusation, dread that another vicious dog was loose somewhere in the neighborhood and compunction for the grief he’d caused Megan by jumping to conclusions about her dog gnawed at him.

      Megan’s eyes filled with tears, and she drew her bottom lip between her teeth.

      Jack expected to see gloating or accusation in his neighbor’s expression. But he didn’t. As her gaze clung to his, something passed between them, something beyond apologies or vindication. Something a lot like expectation.

      Now that Sam’s innocence had been established, where did that leave them? The attraction he felt for Megan had to be as plain as the wrinkles in his shirt.

      “Megan, I…” He fumbled for a place to start. “I’m sorry for the way I—”

      The harsh trill of the phone beside Caitlyn’s bed interrupted him, breaking the spell that had held her gaze on his for the past few electric moments.

      He expelled a disappointed breath through pursed lips as he snatched up the receiver. “Hello?”

      “Jack? It’s me.” Caitlyn’s mother sounded distracted, hurried. “Why is Caitlyn in the hospital?”

      Jack wanted to believe the inflection in his ex-wife’s voice reflected concern for her daughter, but all he could honestly identify was surprise, inconvenience. He absorbed Lauren’s tepid reception of the news about Caitlyn like a prize fighter’s punch in the gut. He rubbed the back of his stiff neck and wondered how he could have so totally misjudged the woman he’d once married.

      Had he missed the signs of her fickleness? Had he ignored clues that she could selfishly cast her child and marriage aside, claiming she needed her freedom?

      “Jack? Jack, are you there?”

      He sighed and pushed his troubling thoughts out of his mind for another time. “Yeah, I’m here.”

      “So what happened?” Lauren asked in a tone that she might have used to discuss the weather.

      What happened? Not “how is she?” Not “can I come?” But what happened? Jack squeezed the receiver tighter. He wanted to throw the question back. What happened, Lauren? What happened to us?

      “She was bitten by a dog.” He glanced up at Megan, who was clearly trying to give him at least the impression of privacy for his call. Her attention was now focused on Caitlyn as his daughter drifted back to sleep.

      “Is that all? You called me about some little dog bite?” Lauren’s impatient tone called his attention back to the phone.

      Flexing his fingers then balling his hand in a fist, Jack counted to ten before he answered. “She has twenty-seven stitches and a broken arm.”

      “So why is she in the hospital, for heaven’s sake? I’ve never heard of hospitalizing someone for a broken arm.”

      “Because she lost a lot of blood and went into shock. She’s better now and resting, but I thought you should know about it…in case you wanted to come—”

      He heard Lauren sigh. “Jack, I’m leaving for London in the morning. I can’t just drop everything whenever Caitlyn skins her knee.”

      Because he was already edgy from the afternoon’s events, Lauren’s dismissal of her daughter lit Jack’s temper. “This is a little more serious than a skinned knee, Lauren! You’re her mother, for God sake. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” His tone could have frozen the phone lines all the way to Lauren’s apartment in Texas.

      He should have known this conversation would go sour, should have waited until Megan wasn’t around to overhear.

      “Of course it means something, Jack! But like I’ve told you for months, I wasn’t cut out to be Betty Homemaker. It’s not me. I’m not mother material and don’t want to try.”

      “You should have thought of that before we had a daughter, Lauren.”

      He should have known better than to get into this argument with his ex again, but her blasé dismissal of her child grated, especially now.

      “If Caitlyn is too much for you to handle then my parents—”

      Jack bristled. “Never. I love my daughter, and I will do whatever it takes to care for her. Alone. Tell your parents I will not give them custody of Caity. Ever. Sorry to have bothered you with your daughter’s trauma. I won’t make that mistake again.” He wished he could slam down the receiver to make his point. Instead, the disconnect button gave an unsatisfactory blip when he jabbed it.

      His pulse throbbed at his temple, and he clenched his teeth until his jaw hurt. He stared at the floor, seething, until a gentle voice reminded him he wasn’t alone.

      “Maybe I should leave.”

      He jerked his head up and met a sympathetic green gaze. He pinched the bridge of his nose and released a harsh breath of frustration. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

      “She’s not coming, is she?” The sad, perplexed tone of Megan’s voice stood in such stark contrast to Lauren’s indifference that it caught Jack off guard for a moment. Made him ache all over for his motherless daughter. He needed to scream, to punch something. Instead, he cracked his knuckles and held Megan’s compassionate gaze.

      “No.”

      She licked her lips again and turned her eyes toward Caitlyn. A profound grief and disbelief filled their depths. Lifting her chin, she faced him once more. “I want to help, Jack. Please.”

      He pushed to his feet and paced restlessly across the room. “Thanks, but no. I’ll manage.”

      “You don’t have to just manage. Let me help. I can bring you some dinner or sit with Caitlyn. Do you have something you need to do for work?”

      “Nothing as important as my daughter. It’ll have to keep.” Jack slid his hand over his face, thinking of the unfinished article still glowing on his laptop screen at his house.

      His laptop.

      “Unless…” He pivoted to face Megan, who was straightening Caitlyn’s covers.

      Megan glanced up. “Yeah?”

      “Would you bring me my laptop? It’s on my kitchen table. I was working on an article when I heard Caity scream and…”

      “Oh, uh…sure.” Megan’s face brightened, clearly glad to be able to do something to help.

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