Her Sister's Secret Son. Lisette Belisle
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a persuasive note, Jared said, “Children often cope better than we think they can.”
Rachel’s glance fell on the puppies. They tumbled over each other, trying to scramble out. She had to admit, they were adorable. They were odd sizes with different coloring—some tan, some black, some mixed with white patches. One pup scrambled atop the others and whined pathetically. Dylan picked it up, cradling it in the palm of his small hand. It fit snugly.
“I won’t get attached,” he promised, his hazel eyes full of puppy love. “Honest!”
Rachel sighed. “Oh, Dylan…I know you. I wish I could say yes, but I can’t.”
Rachel tightened her lips, refusing to belabor the point. After all, this man was a stranger. Easy for him to voice his opinion and claim children should be exposed to some hard knocks in life, but a degree in veterinary medicine didn’t make him an expert on children. Dylan was hers; he’d already “coped” too often and experienced too much loss. She knew all about Dylan’s insecurities, his fear of losing the people he loved. Only time would heal his losses. And hers.
A few days later, Jared was on hand when his father passed his medical physical with flying colors.
“Keep an eye on your blood pressure and watch out for cholesterol,” Dr. Peterson advised, fixing Ira with a stern look. “That’s an order.”
Ira calmly buttoned his shirt. “Thought that little yellow pill was supposed to take care of that.”
“Only if combined with proper diet and exercise.”
“Man don’t need exercise if he does an honest day’s work.” Ira patted his chest. “Besides, this here pacemaker keeps everything ticking. Never thought I’d be wired up like a time bomb, but there you go. You know, Doc, you ought to try it. Might recharge your battery.”
Doc Peterson scowled. “Oh, get out of here. You should have enough pills for a month. Jared can bring you back then.”
Ira frowned. “I can drive myself.”
“No, you can’t! And that’s final! Jared or Jessie can drive you around.”
Jared tried to defuse the situation. “Dad, you’re on the losing end of this argument.” His father had taught him how to drive when he was sixteen. Taking away the car keys was one of the hardest things Jared had ever done.
Ira was still sputtering when he left the doctor’s office. Fred Cromie had come into town with them to do a few errands. He was waiting outside. He’d worked at Stones End as a farmhand for as long as Jared could remember. His friendship with Ira went back even further. The elderly farmhand had been like a father to Jared—filling in wherever Ira failed.
When Fred heard the test results, he let out a whoop that turned a few heads in downtown Henderson. “How about grabbing some lunch at the diner?”
With an under-browed glance at Jared, Ira said, “Sounds good. I could use a square meal.”
Fred laughed. “Least the boy’s trying. Course there’s only so much you can do with food that comes out of a box or a can.”
Ira grouched, “Gotten so I can’t tell the difference.”
“The boy” grinned. Accustomed to his dad’s crankiness and Fred’s teasing, Jared ignored them both. His mood lifted when he caught sight of Rachel’s bright head and long-legged grace on the opposite side of the street.
Wearing a pale lavender dress that came short of her knees with delicate string sandals on her feet, she reminded him of a long, cool, thirst-quenching drink on a scorching hot day. She was on the end of a leash, with the other end attached to a yellow Labrador. Her nephew was with her.
She stopped by a small blue car, opened the back hatch and tried to coax the huge playful dog to jump in. When a cat crossed the dog’s path, the dog bolted after it, directly into the path of a passing truck.
For a perilous moment, Jared thought the dog was going to drag her along—but then she dropped the leash. Jared acted—tackling the dog, and rolling it into a nearby ditch.
Brakes squealed as the truck came to a screeching stop, missing them by inches. The driver was shaken. “Honest, I never saw the dog until it was too late! You hurt?”
“No harm done.” An acrid odor of scorched tires stung Jared’s eyes. His left shoulder had connected with the concrete curb. Before he could move, the dog straddled his chest and pinned him down. When the yellow Lab licked his face, Jared said with a weak laugh, “Good dog.”
“Thanks for saving her.” Dylan’s gruff little voice betrayed bottled-up emotion as he dragged the dog off Jared.
A yellow Labrador retriever, the dog was shorthaired with a bulky chest and regal head, a soft mouth and gentle eyes. Like most of her breed, she was clearly an active, good-natured dog. The dog brought back memories of Jared’s own youth, both good and bad.
Rachel’s face was white as she knelt beside Jared. “I’m so terribly sorry about the dog. Today was bring your pet day at summer school. I’m afraid Sunny got a little too much attention and a bit out of control. She didn’t want to leave. Are you all right?”
The color of her dress turned her eyes purple; the neckline was cut square and exposed her throat and shoulders. When she bent over him, a filigree locket on a long gold chain slipped into the mysterious shadow between her full breasts. Jared’s gaze followed the movement.
He’d seen that locket before—on Laurel. He didn’t want to think about Rachel’s twin. Laurel was temperamental and self-centered. Perhaps Rachel was the calm after the storm.
As if she felt his warm gaze, Rachel drew back. A tiny telltale pulse beat in her throat.
Jared’s pulse soared. “I’m fine.” Actually, he felt a little light-headed.
“Your arm is cut,” she pointed out gently.
At a glance, he dismissed the angry gash. “It’s nothing.”
She didn’t look convinced. “Well, if you’re sure?”
Jared had the distinct feeling she was treating him like a child. No one had mothered him since he was seven years old. He felt a bit bemused as a slow smile softened her perfect features. Today, she wore her hair free, curling around her smooth shoulders. Her mouth was frosty pink, and full. Her face grew flushed with concern for him, or perhaps the heat.
Jared lay there, feeling winded, yet oddly content. For the first time since they met, Rachel was looking at him with approval. Maybe risking life and limb to rescue damsels in distress—or their dogs—wasn’t a bad idea.
She said slowly, “I don’t know how to thank you.”
He could think of a dozen ways—unfortunately, none of them were suitable for daytime exposure, let alone public display, in the middle of Main Street.
“I’m glad I was on hand.” He nursed his sore shoulder.
“I thought you weren’t hurt.”
“Just an old football injury.” He couldn’t say it hurt like hell, or that sharp needle-like pains were travelling down his arm. “It acts up now and then,” he insisted.
The driver of the truck left. Rachel watched him drive off as if she’d lost her last ally.
Jared got to his feet. “How are the puppies?”
“They’re growing. As you might expect with bottle feedings every three hours around the clock.” She sounded exasperated. Apparently she hadn’t forgiven him for saddling her with the puppies. Or perhaps she was just cranky from lack of sleep.
Either way, Jared was to blame. “I thought I’d stop by. They’ll be needing a checkup. And puppy shots.” He had to admit it was a flimsy excuse to see her.
“I didn’t realize you made