Laura Scott

The Thanksgiving Target


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car. And a ride on the bus would take too long, if they even allowed a dog on the city bus. He quickly considered their options. “Does Mrs. Henderson have a car?”

      “Yes.” Tara looked relieved and instantly rushed outside, headed straight for the house to the right, a robin’s egg–blue Cape Cod. She lifted her hand and pounded on the door.

      After what seemed like a long time, the door was opened by a squat, round woman wearing thick glasses and a bright purple fuzzy robe. “Tara? What is it?”

      “Beau is sick. My car has a flat tire, so will you let me borrow yours to take him to the vet?” Tara spoke loudly, making Max suspect Mrs. Henderson didn’t hear too well, and clutched the dog close to her breast as if it were her child. Max understood Beau was important to her. “Please? I promise to bring it back soon.”

      “Sure, but what happened?” The woman opened her door and gestured for them to come in. “Beau was fine when I let him out about an hour ago.”

      “I don’t know. Maybe he ate something that made him sick.” Tara looked impatient, and Mrs. Henderson must have noticed because she hurried over to her purse and dug out her car keys. Tara snatched them from her grasp. “Thank you so much. I’ll reimburse you for the gas.”

      “Don’t worry about it. Just take good care of Beau.” The woman’s expression was one of concern.

      Tara nodded. He reached over and took the keys from her. “Why don’t you let me drive?”

      She didn’t argue and hurried out to the garage to Mrs. Henderson’s large, ancient green Buick. He closed the passenger door behind her and then hustled around to the driver’s side. He backed carefully out of the driveway. “Which way?”

      “To the right, then left at the corner.” Tara gave him directions, dividing her attention between the road and her dog.

      Her love and worry for her pet was obvious. He assumed she lived in the house alone with only Beau as a companion. The news that Tara might not have a man in her life made him secretly relieved; yet he knew it shouldn’t matter. Not when her dog was sick and his sister barely clung to her life in the ICU.

      This wasn’t the time to think about the pretty social worker on a personal level. Hadn’t he learned his lesson before? He’d discovered the hard way that gratitude wasn’t the path to finding love and commitment. Besides, his future wasn’t his own; he’d be back in Iraq before long. He pushed the inappropriate thoughts of Tara away and centered his attention on the road.

      “There, on the right. That’s the emergency vet.”

      He saw the building she indicated and pulled into the driveway. He’d barely pulled the Buick to a stop when she jumped out of the car.

      “Wait,” he called, but she disappeared behind the glass doors without a backward glance. He sat there, wondering why he was here at the vet when he should be at the hospital sitting beside Lissa. His sister should be his highest priority.

      Yet he couldn’t simply abandon Tara. Not until he knew her dog was okay. She’d supported Lissa at the hospital, had tried to help his sister in the past, too. Tara deserved at least a little support.

      Besides, he’d left his duffel bag on the floor of her foyer, so he’d have to go back there anyway. Rubbing the exhaustion from his face, he turned off the car and walked into the building.

      Tara and Beau were already in the back, seeing the vet. Watching them in deep conversation made him hesitate, but then he decided he’d barged into her life this much, he may as well go for broke. He approached the desk. “I’m with Tara and her dog, Beau.”

      “Oh, sure. Come on back.” The secretary/receptionist buzzed him through, and he found Tara, her blue eyes luminous with tears.

      “I don’t understand how this could have happened,” she was saying in a low husky tone. “My neighbor Mrs. Henderson lets him outside for me, but she wouldn’t hurt him. And I don’t think she takes him out of the area between our yards. Are you sure he couldn’t have simply eaten something bad? Something poisonous to dogs?”

      “I’m sure.” The vet was an older man with a kind, gentle expression. “Leave him with me, and I’ll have him fixed up just fine in a few days. You can call to check on him anytime.”

      Tara didn’t say anything for several long minutes but then swiped more tears from her face as she nodded. “All right. Please take good care of him for me.”

      “I will,” the vet promised.

      She turned and nearly stumbled into him. Max lightly grasped her shoulders, holding her steady. “Tara? What is it? What happened to Beau?”

      “He was given some sort of sedative,” she whispered, her voice strained to the point of nearly breaking. “The vet believes someone drugged him on purpose.”

      THREE

      Numb from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, Tara sat beside Max in the car, her throat thick with overwhelming sorrow. She’d almost lost Beau. Her poor little puppy. Beau wasn’t exactly a puppy, since she’d gotten him from the shelter a few years ago, but he was so cute and still a puppy at heart. He’d always be her puppy, full of fun and energy, constantly happy to see her.

      Her eyes filled again. Beau had helped keep her grounded after Ted died. She didn’t know what she’d do without him. Beau just had to survive. She closed her eyes and silently prayed that God would allow Beau to recover quickly.

      It took her a few minutes to realize Max had stopped the car and was looking at her expectantly. She glanced outside, realizing with a start they were home.

      Or at least at Mrs. Henderson’s house.

      “Tara? Are you okay?”

      She shook her head but opened the car door and climbed out. Max moved fast. He met her before she could get too far. “Don’t go home yet,” he said, capturing her arm. “Not without me. Give me a minute to return Mrs. Henderson’s car keys.”

      It was easier to obey than to think. She nodded.

      Standing on the narrow grass lawn between her house and Mrs. Henderson’s, she shivered and clutched Max’s camouflage jacket tighter around her shoulders. Beau had looked so sick. She missed him already.

      “Tara, I’m going to go through your house. Wait outside for me.”

      She gave another weary nod as she huddled beneath his jacket. She couldn’t even imagine what Max might find. Yet she also couldn’t imagine why anyone would try to hurt Beau, either.

      “You can come in now. There’s no one here. But I do want you to take a look around, to see if anything looks out of place.”

      Reluctantly, she mounted the steps and headed inside to meet him. Trying to tell herself she was being ridiculous, she started in the living room, seeing nothing unusual, before heading into the kitchen where she’d found Beau. His food and water bowls were empty; she only fed him once a day in the morning. Max stood silently off to the side as she gazed around.

      “Everything seems fine,” she said, helplessly lifting her shoulders. “I don’t see anything wrong.”

      “Okay, but double-check the bathroom and bedrooms too, just to make certain. I’ll take another quick look outside and then meet you back here.”

      She did as Max asked, but there too, everything seemed to be the way she’d left it. She was a neat person by nature, and nothing was amiss. In her room, she collapsed on the side of her bed for a moment, suddenly exhausted. Her feet ached, and she longed to change into more comfortable clothes. She still felt numb, but some of the effect was beginning to wear off. As much as she wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and pull a pillow over her head to forget all the troubles of her day, she forced herself to stand and return to meet Max in the kitchen.

      His face was somber and she instantly