Puppy Kisses Read online

  Dawn saw nothing for it but to pull out her wallet and extract a business card. She was, in fact, exactly what Zeke was making her out to be. She worked with her sisters Lila and Sophie to take bright, eager puppies and train them to provide services to people of all kinds. Hearing service dogs, vision service dogs, emotional support animals—if a dog could do the work, they found a way to make it happen.

  “Here you go,” she said as she handed over the business card. It was a little ragged around the edges from being wedged in her wallet for so long, but the gist of it was there. “Our company is called Puppy Promise. We specialize in training young dogs so we can make sure they grow up to be a perfect fit. My sister Lila is the brains behind it.”

  Sheriff Jenkins took the card and eyed it carefully, almost as though he suspected her of carrying them around in case she someday got pulled over for speeding while caring for an emaciated golden retriever. “That so?”

  Zeke held up three fingers in a Boy Scout salute. “On my honor.”

  For a long, suspended moment, Dawn thought it was going to work. The sheriff glanced back and forth between them, taking in the driver and the passenger, the puppy and the card. Let us go, Dawn willed him. Send us on our way.

  Her hopes reached their zenith when Sheriff Jenkins gave a curt nod and returned her business card. He even handed Zeke back his ID. “Then of course you’re free to go.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff,” Zeke said, not wasting a moment as he turned the keys in the ignition. “And it won’t happen again, I promise. You won’t regret—”

  Sheriff Jenkins coughed, cutting Zeke short. “I’ll go ahead and follow you two to the ranch. You’ll want a police escort. An animal like that should be seen right away. We wouldn’t want you to run into any more setbacks on the road.”

  Dawn could only open her mouth and close it again, watching as the sheriff turned on his heel and walked away. She continued following his progress in the rearview mirror. He lowered himself into the driver’s seat of his patrol car, said something into his handset, and checked his mirrors.

  And then waited—patiently and calmly—for Zeke to pull out onto the road.

  “We’re in for it now,” Zeke accused. The engine gave an ineffective roar as he stepped on the accelerator before he remembered to remove the car from park. “Have you lost your ever-loving mind? We’d be better off going to jail than facing Adam. What in the hell made you introduce my brother into the conversation?”

  Dawn gently massaged the puppy’s silken fur, struggling to come up with a reasonable excuse. Desperation. Stupidity. An overwhelming desire to see Adam again.

  “I’m sorry,” she eventually said. “I panicked.”

  “Yeah, well, you might want to hold on to that panic a little bit longer.” Zeke glanced over his shoulder before pulling out onto the highway. The sheriff was visible behind them, keeping an exact six car lengths back. “The second we walk in that door with your stolen puppy and a sheriff in tow, Adam is going to eat me alive. No—he’s going to eat you alive while I’m forced to stand by and watch. Isn’t that how torturers do it?”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. I’m not scared of your brother.”

  Zeke snorted on a laugh. Now that no one was pointing a shotgun at him and his ID was safe in his wallet, he was back to his usual carefree self. “Yes, you are. You’re terrified of him. That and bees—the only two things in the world capable of bringing you down. And at least you have an EpiPen to fight the bees.”

  “I could probably use the EpiPen on Adam, too,” she pointed out. “If it came down to hand-to-hand combat.”

  He snorted again. “My brother? Felled by one tiny needle? You’ve got some strange ideas, Dawn, but I draw the line at that one.” He cast an obvious glance down at the puppy. “One of these days, those ideas are going to be the death of you. And me, probably.”

  “I’m not scared of your brother,” she echoed, more firmly this time. “I can handle him.”

  “The same way you handled Sheriff Jenkins?”

  She didn’t bother answering. Okay, so the good officer had proven impervious to her charms. It happened sometimes. Not often, but sometimes. Zeke, for example, regularly told her that he’d rather sleep with a tiger on fire than get anywhere near the disaster that was her romantic life. Clearly, the honorable Sheriff Jenkins was formed from the same mold.

  Adam Dearborn, however, wasn’t impervious. Not to her physical charms, anyway.

  “Now that I’m thinking about it, you weren’t too adroit with No-Pants Shotgun back there, either,” Zeke added. “For a woman who claims to be so good at manipulating men, you seem to have a pretty terrible track record.”

  “At least when an angry man runs after me with no pants on, I know what’s on his mind,” she retorted, nettled. “It’s when they keep their clothes on that I start to worry.”

  Chapter 2

  There were two things Adam really didn’t want to deal with today, and both of them showed up on his doorstep at the same time.

  “Sheriff Jenkins,” he said, tackling the lesser of two evils first. “Please, come in. It’s always a pleasure.”

  “No, it’s not,” the sheriff replied. His voice carried its usual gruffness, a gravelly tonality caused by his lifelong smoking habit. “The only time I see you is when there’s a meeting at town hall or your brother is up to some mischief. And there’s no meeting today.”

  Adam chose to ignore the implications of this statement. That Zeke was up to trouble—again—was no surprise. Especially considering the woman standing next to the sheriff. He’d have recognized that scent anywhere, though he’d have been damned if anyone asked him to point out how. Dawn Vasquez was the only woman he knew who wore no perfume, used no scented soaps or lotions, and even washed her clothes with an odorless laundry detergent. What he smelled were pheromones, plain and simple.

  Those, unfortunately, she had in abundance.

  “Dawn,” he said, still in his blandest voice. “To what do I owe the honor? Or is it better if I don’t ask?”

  He didn’t know why he bothered. As was usually her custom, Dawn pushed her way through the front door as though his opinion on the matter carried no weight whatsoever. She didn’t make contact with him as she moved past, but that didn’t seem to matter. Adam could always feel her coming. The air around her crackled with energy—most of it sexual.

  “Did you forget I was coming by this afternoon with your new service puppy?” she asked in the light, breezy tone that almost always presaged mischief of some kind. “I thought about having Lila call to remind you, but you’re always so organized. I thought for sure you’d remember our date.”

  Although he was already holding himself perfectly still, those words caused him to grow even more immobile. “Our date?” he echoed.

  “She’s in much worse condition than we feared,” Dawn continued. “Do you mind if I set her on the couch?”

  For the first time since he’d heard the crunch of two pairs of car tires in the drive, Adam wondered if he had, in fact, forgotten an appointment. Most of his days were so busy that he had to keep to a tight schedule or risk being out with the cows at all hours of the night. Phoebe did a decent job of keeping him apprised of his calendar, but she hadn’t mentioned anything about Dawn stopping by today.

  He definitely would have taken note of that.

  “Zeke, be a love and make sure the vet is on her way, would you?” Dawn asked. Adam could tell, from the location of her voice, that she’d decided not to wait for permission and had moved straight toward the couch. “Sheriff Jenkins, would you mind terribly getting a bowl of water? I’d like to get some fluids in this puppy sooner rather than later.”

  To Adam’s complete and utter lack of surprise, both men went off to do her bidding. Zeke, because his brother never said no to Dawn, and Harold, because, well, he was male. It didn’t seem to matter that the
man was married and old enough to be Dawn’s grandfather. When she issued a request in that sweetly lilting voice of hers, it was impossible not to want to move the sun and the earth to carry it out.

  “I’ll get the water,” Adam said. Part of it was a perverse desire not to let this woman have the handling of his household, but most of it was his reluctance to be left alone with her. As he wasn’t married and only had four years on her, he had none of Harold’s protective armor in place. “Food, too, I presume?”

  Dawn’s approval was evident in the slight hum at the back of her throat. “Yes, actually. If it’s not too much trouble. Some kind of canned beef or chicken, I think, and if you could mash it up to a soft consistency, that’d be great. I’m not sure what condition her teeth and gums are going to be in.” She paused before adding, “Something to clean these wounds would also be a help.”

  Wounds? “What did you do to that poor animal?”

  “Oh, she’s been beaten, dehydrated, and starved,” Dawn said in a voice that was strangely cheerful for such a macabre list. “But her spirit’s strong. With the right training, she should make you an excellent service puppy.”

  That was the second time she’d said service puppy, and it didn’t make any more sense this time around. Adam wasn’t in the market for a service animal. He liked dogs just fine, but he had yet to meet a single one who could keep pace with him around the ranch. They always ended up being more of a hindrance than a help.

  Kind of like a certain woman he knew.

  “Anything else I can do for you while I’m at it?” he asked.

  If Dawn noticed his note of sarcasm, she blithely ignored it. “I’d love a drink of water myself, actually. It’s a hot one out there today. Sheriff? Can we offer you anything?”

  There was no verbal response, so Adam assumed Harold must have shaken his head. At least, that was how he planned on interpreting the silence. He wasn’t going to play the gallant host unless someone told him what was going on.

  It was in a mood of budding annoyance that he moved to the kitchen and began assembling the items Dawn requested. The kitchen, like the rest of the single-story ranch house, was neat and organized, every item in the same location it had been for as long as Adam could remember. Keeping the saltshaker and water glasses in the exact same place didn’t make for a very exciting life, but it did make for an independent one. At least where Adam was concerned. He might not have been able to see the kitchen in a literal sense, but the map was laid out in his mind’s eye just fine. Bowls. Glasses. Water. Antiseptic wash. Paper towels.

  Zeke was there, too, hovering in the hallway that led from the bedrooms to the living room. He was probably looking for a way to sneak past without Adam hearing him.

  Taking pity on his younger brother, Adam began to hum “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” under his breath. It wasn’t much, but it gave Zeke the boost of courage he needed to slip past him and return to the safety of the living room.

  Adam almost ruined it by laughing out loud. Poor Zeke. So many of the things his brother did around here were far less secretive than he thought. He and Phoebe both. From the way the pair of them skulked around, speaking in whispers and sneaking out when they thought Adam was asleep, you’d think he was running some kind of prison camp instead of the family ranch.

  Unfortunately, that was what came with being the eldest—and with being the boss. Even though he was only four years older than the twins, it might as well have been forty.

  “Oh yes. Golden retrievers make excellent service dogs. They’re one of the smartest breeds out there, and they can concentrate on a task better than most humans. They’re my favorite animal for this kind of work.” Dawn was holding court when Adam returned to the living room, which was no surprise to anyone who knew her. She had a way of drawing all the attention in a room.

  Determined not to fall into her inevitable orbit, he set the tray of supplies on the coffee table and wordlessly settled himself on the arm of the couch.

  “And what kind of work is that?” Sheriff Jenkins asked.

  “Ranch work. Manual labor. Traveling long distances to hunt down rogue cows.” Dawn shot them off as if reading from a list. “You need a lot of strength and intelligence to keep up in a place like this. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Although Zeke, who’d also been born and bred here, could have easily answered that question, Adam had the feeling he was the one being put on the spot. What he didn’t know was why.

  “I’ll have you know that my cows don’t go rogue,” he said by way of answer. “They’re exceptionally well behaved.”

  “All two hundred of them? That isn’t possible.”

  “Well, there is one that’s been causing us a lot of problems near the west field lately. She keeps breaking down the neighbor’s fence and forcing herself into places she’s not wanted. We named her Dawn.”

  Although Zeke’s laugh was unmistakable, Dawn hid hers behind an outraged gurgle.

  “Because she usually escapes right before sunup,” Adam explained. He held himself on the edge of the couch arm, his posture upright. “She’s cost us a fortune in repairs already. I’m thinking about getting rid of her. Don’t tell me that’s what brings you all this way, Harold. I didn’t know you were interested in animal husbandry.”

  “Actually, I was escorting the youngsters,” Harold said. “Seeing as how this puppy is in such terrible condition and they were determined to bring her here rather than to Marcia’s. What made you take on an animal like this one?”

  “I told you already,” Zeke interrupted. “Adam hired Dawn to help him find the perfect canine companion. He needs help around here.”

  On the contrary, he needed no such thing. The books were balanced, the expansion plans were shaping up, and Adam was in the best physical condition of his life. Considering that he ran one of the largest family-owned-and-operated cattle ranches in this part of the state with almost zero percent vision, this was no small feat.

  But that clearly wasn’t the story he was supposed to be selling here.

  “That’s right,” he lied cheerfully. “I’m getting on in years. Unlike Dawn, I’m ready to start making myself less of a nuisance and settle down. Dawn the cow, that is.”

  He could hear Dawn the human struggling to keep her feelings to herself. More silence than sound, there was a definite sense of laughing indignation coming from the other side of the couch.

  “So this really is your new seeing-eye dog?” Harold asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  “And you ordered them to bring her to you?”

  “With all possible speed,” he said with a calm perjuring of his soul. Unless he was mistaken, things were finally starting to make sense. Zeke always drove with a lead foot, and Dawn always had a way of getting exactly what she wanted. If her goal had been to talk her way out of a speeding ticket, this was one way to do it.

  A tortured, tangled, ridiculous way to do it, yes, but when had she ever done things any other way?

  “I hope Zeke didn’t take me too literally about the speed thing,” he added, somewhat perversely. “We wouldn’t want him putting his safety—not to mention the safety of his passengers—at risk. But what am I saying? I’m sure you would have told me straightaway if that were the case.”

  All three of them coughed at once. They also began talking at once. Harold murmured something about needing to go on his way. Zeke offered to walk him to the door. And Dawn was encouraging the puppy to eat something in a low, soothing tone.

  From the sound of it, she wasn’t having much luck. Casting aside all other considerations, Adam shifted from the arm of the couch to the floor, crouching near the warm, panting body laid out on the middle cushion. The first thing he noted was that the animal’s temperature was high—too high—her breathing rapid, and her nose dry to the touch. The second thing he noted was that beaten and starved had been gross understatements.
He was much more of an expert on cows than dogs, but the painfully bony rib cage and rough patches of balding skin were more than enough to convince him that his brother and Dawn had done right to bring the dog here—speed limits and Harold Jenkins be damned.

  “Was Zeke able to get hold of Marcia?” he asked as his fingers prodded gently at the puppy’s stomach. The animal gave a whimper of protest as he encountered several hard lumps. “I know, girl. I’m sorry. I’m being as gentle as I can. Where’s the antiseptic?”

  “I don’t know,” Dawn said. As she placed the bottle in his hand, she added, “About Marcia, that is. But if she’s busy, I can always ask our vet to come out. Or even Lila. She’ll know what to do about a dog in this state.”

  Adam had never met Dawn’s older sister, Lila, but she had a good reputation when it came to animals. He could have easily—and guiltlessly—handed this problem over to her.

  He didn’t.

  “No, thank you. I’d like one of my own people to tend to her.” He began cleaning the worst of the puppy’s wounds, a large abrasion on the downy fur on her belly. He worked gently but firmly, refusing to let the animal squirm her way out of the necessary care.

  That was kind of his specialty. Adam Dearborn was the man who got things done—even if it hurt sometimes.

  “What she needs is rest, not a bunch of strange people tramping in and out of here,” he added. “It would only scare her. I don’t treat my animals that way.”

  “She isn’t your animal.”

  He ignored her. “Don’t force any more food on her, please. I think she may have swallowed some rocks.”

  “She isn’t your animal,” Dawn repeated, more insistently this time. When he only continued working his hands over the puppy’s body, gently testing her joints and bones for breaks, she asked, “How do you know she ate rocks?”

  It had been his intention to tend to the puppy’s wounds and leave Dawn to the full and solitary possession of the couch. He hadn’t made any physical contact with her other than the light brushing of fingertips as she handed over the antiseptic, but he was still acutely aware of her presence. It was impossible not to be. Her body was warm and crackling with energy, her breath disturbing the air around him.