Foxfire (14 page)

Tiffany sniffed at the paper that had fallen
at Grace's feet.

Grace stooped and picked
it up. The words scorched her vision. Printed in block letters was
a name that made the bile rise in her throat. Gracie Jo. Only one
person had called her that. The man she'd been hiding from for
three years  Max Clayton. She read the note again.
Gracie Jo. I know you like silk. This is for you. A gift. Like
old times. How did you like the roses? Weren't they pretty? Such a
vivid shade of red. The color of fresh blood.

“No!” She ripped the offending article from
her neck and tossed it to the ground. Her hands trembled and she
spun in circles, staring into the trees, wondering if he was
watching. He'd found her. He'd found her. Oh, God, he'd found
her.

She wanted to run back to the house, lock
herself inside, and cower under the bed. She had thought she'd be
safe here, but nowhere was safe. Not even Foxfire. And that
meant...tears stung her eyes...no one was safe. Not Brad, nor
Harri, nor Tiffany. And God forbid, not even Tyler.

Grace snatched up the horrid scarf. “Come on,
Tiff.” Holding her chin high, Grace led the way back to her
house.

She had a job to do. She and Tyler were
taking Shane to Mr. Jacobson today. Tonight she'd deal with the
issue of Max. He was taunting her. He wanted her to cower, and she
wouldn't allow him to have that control over her. She wouldn't run
away. Not this time.

Tiffany seemed to sense Grace's fear and
stayed close by her side as she walked behind the house, lifted the
trash can lid and tossed the scarf and envelope inside. Grace
slammed down the lid, feeling a bit of relief having it out of
sight.

She splashed cold water over her face and
neck and changed shirts before heading down to the clinic. Tyler
had asked her not to schedule any morning appointments. He'd given
Shane a clean bill of health, purchased a new collar, and attached
an identification tag and the rabies tag, which jangled whenever
the dog moved.

When Grace reached the clinic, Tyler was
waiting for her beside the truck. His face lit with a boyish grin.
“Ready to surprise Mr. Jacobson?”

She nodded, eager to be on the way. She
pasted a smile on her face, hoping she showed no signs of the
stress twisting her stomach. Tiffany ran to the truck when Tyler
lifted Shane inside the cab.

“No, girl, you can't go,” Grace said.

Tiffany sat down, a forlorn look on her face.
“We'll be back soon. You go visit Brad.”

Tiffany's ears perked at the sound of Brad's
name.

Grace pointed at the path. “Go.”

Tiffany whuffed and bounded off.

Sitting next to Tyler, Grace felt the
darkness begin to lift. Of course it was the anticipation of
surprising Mr. Jacobson, not because Tyler kept glancing her way.
She pretended not to notice, but each time his arm brushed hers,
she received a jolt of awareness. Shane sat quietly between them,
but Grace kept her arm securely around the dog's midsection,
steadying him on the seat. The drive was endlessly long and
entirely too short. Her cheeks ached from the smile frozen on her
face when Tyler finally pulled into Mr. Jacobson's driveway.

Will came outside the moment Tyler stopped
the truck.

“Hi, Doc.” He shaded his eyes with one hand.
“Something wrong?”

Tyler opened Grace's door. She jumped down
and Shane followed. She held tight to the leash as the dog strained
to reach Mr. Jacobson.

“We brought you a visitor,” Tyler said.

The old man stepped carefully down the last
step. “Visitors are always welcome. Come on in.”

Shane sniffed Mr. Jacobson's trousers, then
licked his hand.

Will chuckled. “Well, now, you're a good
lookin' dog. You can come in, too.” He glanced at Grace. “Welcome
back, young lady. You folks feel up to some home made
lemonade?”

Grace kissed his cheek. “It's good to see
you, Mr. Jacobson.”

“Will,” he corrected. “Mr. Jacobson was my
pa. Now how about a cool drink?”

Grace smiled. “I'd love a glass of lemonade,
Will.”

“Me, too,” Tyler said.

Will led them into the house and pulled out
chairs encouraging them to sit. “What's your dog's name?” he
asked.

Tyler grinned. “That's up to you.”

“Eh? How's that?”

“He's all yours,” Grace said holding out the
leash.

Will looked from Grace to Tyler and back
again. Tears shimmered behind his glasses.

“Mine?”

Grace nodded, feeling tears smart behind her
eyes, too.

Will reached down and petted the dog's head.
“Well, now.” Will's voice cracked. “I'm pleased to have you, if you
want to stay,” he said to the dog.

Shane licked his hand.

“But I'm fresh out of names, I'm afraid.”

“We've been calling him Shane,” Grace
offered.

“Shane,” Will repeated.

The dog lifted his ears.

“Shane, it is then. That's a fine name for a
fine dog.”

Shane barked approval.

****

Grace managed to get through the rest of the
day without Tyler suspecting anything. He asked her to stay for
dinner, but she declined, saying she had chores and errands to run.
He seemed disappointed, but said he understood. When he leaned
forward as if to kiss her, she turned her head, pretending not to
notice.

As Grace topped the hill, she called
Tiffany's name. When there was no answer, her concern grew. She
hadn't seen her dog since this morning when she told her to go find
Brad. Grace placed her hands on each side of her mouth and called
again. “Tiffany!”

Grace ran to the back of the house, hoping to
find the dog sleeping in her favorite spot. The sight that met her
eyes stopped her flight. Tiffany lay in a pool of blood, the
discarded silk scarf knotted around her neck.

Fear and rage battled, fear that her beloved
pet might die, rage at the monster who did this, and above it all,
a sorrow deep in her heart. Grace dropped to her knees and placed
her ear against Tiffany's stomach. A slow but steady heartbeat gave
her hope.

“Thank God.”

The open hip wound was deep and long, the fur
matted with blood.

“It's okay, girl. I'll get help. Tyler will
know what to do.”

Tiffany's tail wagged once.

Retracing her earlier route, she flew past
the outreaching branches, ignoring the sting as they flogged her
face. “No, no, no,” she chanted with each heavy footfall. She met
resistance when she pushed against the clinic door. Locked! She
turned, ran down the steps and around the building. Taking the
stairs two at a time, she reached the deck and called out, “Tyler!
Help!”

****

“Dad, I'll call you later. I've got an
emergency.” Tyler hung up the phone and walked toward the kitchen.
He collided with Grace and grabbed her arms to keep from tumbling
to the floor. He touched a red welt on her cheek. “What's wrong,
honey?”

“Come quick. Tiffany's hurt. I think she's
been stabbed.” Grace tugged his arm. “Hurry, she's bleeding. You
have to do something. Please, Tyler, you have to come with me.”

By the time he retrieved his medical bag, she
was gone. He caught sight of her running toward the wooded path,
and though he was in great shape, he had a difficult time catching
up. He followed, and breathless, knelt beside the dog. She had a
large wound on her hip, and she'd lost a significant amount of
blood. He listened and heard a steady heartbeat. A good sign, but
he couldn't risk moving her until he stopped the bleeding. He
clipped around the wound and cleaned it as best he could. He
fingered the scarf knotted around the dog's neck wondering where it
had come from.

Grace yelled into the trees as if someone
stood there. “I swear I'm going to kill you.” Her hands clamped
into fists. “You stinking coward. I'll cut out your heart for doing
this. You hear me! You're a dead man!”

Chills ran down Tyler's spine. Grace tipped
back her head and emitted a scream that left him raw and wounded.
He put his arms around her, drawing her to his chest. Her body
stiffened against him. “It's all right, honey. She's going to be
okay, but we have to get her to the clinic right away.” He stroked
the wild silky curls on Grace's head, whispering over and over that
Tiffany would be fine. Slowly she began to relax, her body leaning
into him. He tipped her face to his and kissed her. His arms
trembled with the force of his emotions. He couldn't bear Grace's
pain. He looked into her eyes, now gleaming with unshed tears. “I
promise she won't die. I won't let that happen. You hear me?”

Her arms wrapped around his waist and she
dropped her forehead to his chest.

“Grace. Do you trust me?”

She nodded.

His heart felt like a heavy rock in his
chest. She trusted him, and he had to follow through on his
promise. But once she learned the truth about him, she'd never
trust him again. He couldn't think of that now though. Now he had
to help Tiffany.

“Can you get me a blanket?” he asked.

She sniffed. Her eyes met his and he saw
flecks of midnight blue far behind the surface, pulling him in,
drowning him in their depths. She nodded.

Moments later, she returned with a
lightweight blanket.

Together they eased Tiffany onto the blanket.
He wrapped it around the dog and carefully lifted her in his arms.
“Will you carry my bag?”

Grace grabbed it and followed him down the
steps.

“Tyler, is she really going to be all
right?”

The tremor in her voice tugged at his
heartstrings. He was positive the injury wasn't accidental. Someone
had stabbed the dog, and he was afraid he knew who had performed
the evil deed. “She's going to make it, babe.”

Two hours later, Tiffany lay sedated but out
of danger. Grace sat in a chair outside the cage, her hand resting
on her dog's head. Tyler kept an eye on her while he cleaned
up.

“Are you sure she's going to make it?”

“Absolutely. Tomorrow she'll be more alert,
but we'll have to keep her caged for a few days.”

Grace nodded. “Thank you. I'll pay you for
this, I promise.”

He gritted his teeth. Hadn't they gone beyond
being business associates? Hoping the frustration didn't reach his
voice, he replied, “I love that dog nearly as much as you. There's
no charge, Grace. Come on, let's get something to eat.”

“I'm not hungry.”

“Then keep me company while I eat. Tiffany is
fine. She's going to sleep through the night.”

“I'm not leaving her alone.” She glanced up
at him and the anger he saw made him step back.

He didn't blame her. What happened to the dog
wasn't an accident. “We need to notify the authorities about what
happened.”

“No. I can handle this myself.”

“Grace.”

“I said no.”

He took a deep breath and ran his hand
through his hair. She was in no mood to listen to reason. Did she
know who had done this? “Grace, did you put this on Tiffany?” He
held up the scarf he'd removed from the dog's neck.

Her face drained of color. “It's mine. I
think I left it at Brad's. He must have returned it via
Tiffany.”

She was lying. He read it in her posture and
in her eyes. Why? What significance did the scarf have? He tossed
it to her and she balled it up and stuffed it in her pocket.

“So why don't you want to notify the
authorities?”

“Why should I? Couldn't the wound be
accidental? What if she got into a trap? Or got into a tangle with
another animal? I mean, who would deliberately hurt my dog? It
doesn't make sense.”

“The wound was a clean cut. It looks like a
knife wound. That isn't accidental.”

She placed her hands on her hips. “And you're
an expert on knife wounds?”

He shrugged. “All I'm telling you is that it
looks too clean to have been caused by another animal. A trap would
have caused more damage, maybe broken her leg.” He held out his
hand when she opened her mouth to protest. “And if it was a trap it
would have been lower, not up on the hip.”

“And I'm telling you to let it go. There
isn't a soul in Foxfire who would hurt her, not deliberately. All I
care about is getting her back on her feet. Then I'll decide how to
protect her in the future.”

She walked out of the room and looked back
over her shoulder. “Didn't you mention getting something to eat?
Suddenly I'm famished.”

Tyler gave up. They went to his apartment and
he pulled eggs and bacon from the refrigerator. Grace started a pot
of coffee. They worked together and when the food was done, they
carried it to the deck. Tyler lit the gas torches. He couldn't let
Grace go back home tonight. His gut told him Max had something to
do with what happened, and he thought Grace knew it, too. He'd been
too aware of her reaction over the scarf. It wasn't hers. What part
did it play in the whole scenario? Damn. He needed to talk to Jake.
Maybe it was time to tell Grace the truth. She deserved to know. If
he could just get her to stay with him for the night, then tomorrow
morning he'd lay everything out on the table when she'd be ready to
listen. If it meant she didn't want to pursue the attraction
between them, he'd just have to accept it. The important thing was
to protect her.

“Will you stay here tonight? I know you'd
like to be close to Tiffany. My couch makes into a bed. I can sleep
there and give you my bedroom.” He tried to lighten the air. “I
promise not to let you seduce me.”

She glanced down at her rumpled blood-stained
clothing. “If you really don't mind, that will ease my mind. But I
can't let you give up your bed. I'll take the sofa.” He started to
protest, but decided not to push his luck.

“Okay,” he agreed.

She stood and carried her plate to the
kitchen. “Thanks for dinner. I'll just go shower and get a change
of clothes.”

“You're not going anywhere alone.”