Kimberly Cates

The Perfect Match


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paddled to safety.

      “Could your dog do that?” Charlie asked.

      “I’ve been working with Clancy on water rescues. I hope next summer his new owner will take him for even more training.”

      “You mean he’s not your dog?”

      “Not for keeps. See, I always get this feeling about who a pet should belong to. I don’t feel that when Clancy is with me, so I’m just taking care of him until I find him the right home.”

      Charlie’s eyes widened, something sparkling in them for an instant before the little girl put the emotion out.

      “Somebody’s going to be so, so lucky,” Charlie whispered, slipping her arms around the dog. “You’d never have to be scared if you had him around.”

      The child sounded so sure of it, her voice filled with yearning. Rowena felt Charlie’s small hand close around her heart.

      Charlie pressed her cheek against Clancy’s side. She gasped. Shyness evaporated. The dread Rowena had sensed in Charlie’s glances toward the door disappeared. “I can feel his heart beat!” Charlie marveled.

      Rowena dropped to her knees beside the pair, her intuition singing. “I’ll tell you a secret, Charlie.” Charlie raised her head to peer into Clancy’s face. Clancy tipped his head to one side, examining the little girl bare inches from his licorice black nose, as entranced with Charlie as Charlie was with him.

      Rowena’s heart nearly pounded its way out of her chest, the roaring of instinct inside her so loud she barely heard the bell above the shop door jangle behind her.

      “Clancy’s been wishing for someone to love him for a very long time.”

      “I’d love him,” Charlie’s so-sad eyes brightened, her pale face almost beautiful.

      “I know you would.” Caution struggled to surface in Rowena. Don’t get the child’s hopes up…don’t set her up for disappointment…

      But look at her, Rowena reasoned. How sad she looks, how small…what kind of a parent would deny such a woebegone little girl a pet who could make her feel safe? Bring her back to joy? If she were my little girl…

      But she’s not, her sister Bryony’s voice chided gently.

      Rowena tried to stop the words, but they spilled out in spite of her efforts. “It’s obvious you’re a very responsible girl. Maybe you’re old enough to take care of a dog now.”

      Charlie shook her head gravely. “My daddy said no more.”

      “Maybe when he said that he didn’t realize what a remarkable young lady you’d grow into. Maybe he didn’t know…” Rowena hesitated.

      “Know what?” Charlie asked with such hope in her eyes Rowena couldn’t stop herself.

      Rowena shoved back the last vestiges of caution as she cupped the girl’s soft cheek, peered into Charlie’s solemn eyes. So deep she could see the child’s soul.

      “Do you know what I think, Charlie?” she asked, more sure of what she was about to say than she’d ever been of anything before. “I think Clancy has been waiting for you his whole life.”

      “Really? But how-how do you know?”

      “He told me.” Whoa, Rowena, she thought. A little too much honesty there. The kind that tended to get her in trouble.

      Doubt warred with a desperate need to believe in the little girl’s eyes. “Dogs don’t talk,” Charlie said at last.

      “Not like you and I do. But Clancy told you he likes you, didn’t he? His tail wagged. He licked you. And just look at his eyes. He hasn’t taken them off you for a second.”

      “Charlie!” A sharp masculine voice from the shop behind them cut through the magical web of understanding between Rowena, Charlie and the dog. They all three jumped, Charlie with a dismayed squeak, Rowena with an oath as Clancy’s massive head slammed into her nose.

      The big dog surged to all fours in front of them, instinctively putting his bearlike body between Charlie and the angry man stalking toward them.

      “Daddy!” Charlie exclaimed, leaping to her feet as the thundering footsteps on the tile floor drew nearer.

      Half blinded by the dog hair in her eyes, Rowena looped her arm around Charlie’s shoulders, hating how stiff they’d become.

      Rowena blinked hard to clear her blurry vision. When she managed to do it, she wished she hadn’t.

      Deputy Cash Lawless stormed toward her, another little girl in his arms, fury blazing in his eyes.

       CHAPTER THREE

      ROWENA TRIED TO REMEMBER how to breathe as her nemesis stalked toward them, six foot two inches of angry male. The child in his arms was swathed from hood to shoes in a purple unicorn raincoat, but Cash Lawless looked as if he’d stepped out of his morning shower fully dressed. His dark hair plastered to his head, the angles of his face even more forbidding gleaming wet.

      His jacket, caught back by one of the little girl’s legs, had left the front of his body exposed to the elements. His wet shirt stuck to the rippling muscles of a chest so broad he could probably bench press Rowena’s weight without breaking a sweat.

      And at the moment, he looked as if he’d like to toss her out of his way, Hulk style, to get to the little girl trembling in the curve of Rowena’s arm.

      Cash Lawless was Charlie’s daddy?

      Rowena’s mind reeled as she tried to grasp the undeniable truth. This lost, lonely child who had already won Rowena’s heart belonged to the hard-nosed deputy. The man who had a personal vendetta against the dog Charlie loved.

      Rowena’s ill-advised words of moments before played mercilessly in her head. She’d built the child’s hopes up, so sure she could make Charlie’s dream come true.

      She’d have a better chance of turning Clancy into a cat.

      “Charlotte Rose Lawless,” the deputy snapped, “what do you think you’re doing sneaking off like—”

      Rowena could tell the instant he recognized Clancy.

      “Charlie, get away from that dog!” Lawless ordered. “It’s dangerous!”

      “He is not!” Rowena exclaimed, as the deputy’s long stride ate up the space between himself and his daughter.

      “He gave me this black eye!”

      Charlie nibbled on her lip, a little doubtful. Obviously the black eye had made an impression.

      “It was an accident!” Rowena rushed to explain to the little girl. “Clancy just got overly excited and banged a door into your dad.”

      “Charlie, get over here right now,” the deputy roared, flinging open the playroom gate.

      “Yeah,” the child in the deputy’s arms piped up. “You are in big trouble, little girl.” The mite thrust her hood back from a face straight out of the fairy book Auntie Maeve had sent Rowena from Ireland.

      “Do you have any idea what could have happened to you, running off like that, Charlie?” Lawless demanded.

      To give the man credit, he looked plenty shaken up. And Rowena tried to remember that, as a cop, he would have seen plenty of examples of bad things happening to children running wild. He had that if-you’re-not-dead-in-a-ditch-I’m-going-tokill-you-myself-for-scaring-me-spitless parental expression Rowena had seen on her mother’s face a time or two.

      Rowena searched for something to say, anything to defuse the situation. “We have to quit meeting like this, Deputy,” she said, fighting a ridiculous urge to fold her arms over her breasts. “I’m happy to say, your eye is looking