Animal Prints: Sweet Small Town Contemporary Romance (Michigan Moonlight Book 1) (16 page)

“He doesn’t have me. It’s not like that.”

“Yet.” Lexy took a huge bite of sandwich which, for once, made her silent.

“I don’t know….”

“You aren’t interested?” Lexy asked with her mouth full.

“I’m interested.” Colette drummed her fingers against the edge of the table. Probably too interested.
 

“He is. That was clear.”

“Yeah?” Colette wanted to believe she and Ian had a future beyond a summer fling.

“Yeah.” Lexy grabbed Colette’s hand. “Stop worrying about the past. It’s been over two years and Ian has Nate’s stamp of approval.”

“What if Nate’s wrong?” The doubts about her former relationships still haunted her.
 

“Nate’s never wrong about people.” She squeezed her sister’s hand. “Now call him.”

“No need. There he is.” Colette gestured to the dark sedan pulling expertly into the parallel spaces outside the restaurant. He stretched as he got out of the car, broad shoulders strong under the shifting fabric of a button-down shirt. His appearance was a little more formal than usual: pressed khakis, a silk tie, shorter hair, and a freshly shaved face. Ian held the door open for a group of exiting middle-age ladies, giving them a charming smile. The women giggled as their gaggle turned in unison to watch Ian disappear into the café. The sisters exchanged a glance. They knew exactly what those ladies were thinking. He was a damn fine looking man.
 

Ian spotted them almost immediately and made his way through the crowd. He smiled at them both, then slid in with Colette, bumping her thigh with his. The physical contact reminded her of the kisses they’d shared out on the farm, stunning her with how much she’d missed him for the past few days.

“I guess it’s my lucky day to find you two together,” he announced.

“I was telling Collie about the flyers you showed me,” Lexy said.

“They were just mockups. The real ones will look better. I want to do my best for Colette.” He found her hand under the table and interlaced her fingers with his, as if re-enforcing his words.

“Really? I thought they were beautiful and…” A large crash came from the kitchen and Lexy gripped the edge of the table for a second, hovering between flight and finishing their conversation.

“Go,” Colette commanded her, laughing. “You know you want to.”

Lexy jumped up from the table and dashed across the room.

“Wow! Your sister!” Ian joined in her laughter.
 

“Amazing, isn’t she?”

“Must run in the family.” He leaned closer to Colette and kissed her on the lips. “Hi.”
 

“Hi.” She smiled at him and felt a pleasant flutter in her chest as she did. “I didn’t expect to see you in town today.”

His smile vanished and he reached to straighten his tie. “I have an interview with a veteran for my book at two. I was hoping you’d come with me. Lexy said it was your afternoon off.”

“I’d love to, but I don’t want to be in the way.”
 

“You wouldn’t be,” he said shifting in his seat a little. “I’d like you to see what I’m doing with this book and maybe you could help? The veteran, his name’s Ed Norris, has an assist dog. The family’s having trouble adjusting to a dog in the household and I thought you could help. If you have time,” he added.

“I’d be happy to. Why does he have the dog?”

“Ed’s right arm is amputated at the elbow and he’s partially blind in one eye and completely in the other from the blast of a percussion bomb. When I talked to him this morning, he said some of his vision is returning. He may not need the dog forever, but right now he does. His wife isn’t a dog person. The kids think the dog’s their playmate and I guess it’s a mess. Can you help?”

“Sure, but why hasn’t the dog’s trainer managed this? They’re usually very careful when they place a dog in a home.”
 

“Yeah, I’ve seen others with highly trained dogs. In this case, the trainer got called up for a tour in Afghanistan and left before they finished their acclimation process.”

“So everyone’s confused about the dog’s job, including the dog. What’s his name?”

“Gerry. Thanks for helping. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. I’ll need to stop by the clinic and get a few things.”

At the clinic, Colette got a kit to check the dog’s health and filled a small bag with treats and some dog toys, assuming Gerry probably needed some stimulation he wasn’t getting with the family. The Norris’s lived on the edge of Petoskey in a small ranch style home. Mrs. Norris directed Colette and Ian around to the back where her husband was waiting on the patio. The tiny fenced yard contained a swing set, an ancient grill, and a collection of garden gnomes. Gerry, a cross between a bloodhound and a lab, greeted them at the gate, panting in the summer heat. He had large intelligent eyes that switched between Ian and her. Instinctively, Ian reached down to pet him.

“No petting.” She caught Ian’s hand before he could touch the dog, “This is a working dog. He’s greeting you because he has a task.” She offered the dog her wrist. He closed his mouth around her arm and led her forward to the man who waited in the shade.
 

“Good boy.” Ed Norris dropped his left hand to the dog’s head for a brief caress before the dog took his place next to his master. “Hi, I’m Ed.”

Without hesitation, Ian offered his hand to Ed’s sole one to shake. “Nice to meet you, Ed, and thanks for having me. This is Colette Peterson. She’s a veterinarian. I thought she might be able to help with Gerry.”

Ed nodded at Colette. “I appreciate that, Ma’am. I thought about returning him, but he really does help me when I’m away from the family.”

“Why don’t you give me a rundown of your concerns? I’ll work with him while you two talk.”
 

“He does pretty good when it’s just the two of us, but gets confused when my kids are in the room. They want to play fetch and stuff, but he doesn’t respond to that. If you have any idea…”

“Sure, let me exam him and see what kinds of games he knows.” Colette moved with the dog a few paces away from where the men sat in the shade. Ian’s camera rested on a table, but he held a digital recorder in his hand and leaned toward the other man.
 

After some preliminary questions, Ian asked about Ed’s time in the service, where he served, what his job was while in Iraq. To put the other man more at ease, Ian told about his experiences as well, something he’d completely skirted with Colette.

Colette pretended she didn’t hear him while she went through some basic commands with Gerry, then gave him a quick physical exam. She checked his eyes and ears, tested his reflexes, and felt along his belly for any sign of distress. Finding nothing, she introduced the toys to him. He was quick and intelligent. With just a little instruction, Gerry and the kids could learn to play with the intricate toy she’d brought.
 

While she played with Gerry, she heard Ed’s voice floated over to her. She kept her focus on the dog, but listened to the man.

“I was sure I’d die right there in the road. My daughter had been born only a month before. Thought I’d never see her. It was the worst I’ve ever felt.” Ed wiped his brow with a handkerchief. “Well, you get it, you’ve been there.”

“Yeah, the fear’s almost as bad as the pain,” Ian commented.
 

He’d been injured? Colette stole a glance in his direction, but couldn’t make anything out from his expression.
 

“Where’d they ship you after that?”

“Germany. I was there a month before returning to the states. Finally, they transferred me to the VA hospital in Ann Arbor. I met my daughter when I got there.” He covered his face with his hand, presumably wiping at his eyes. “I couldn’t see anything yet, but I could hold her.”

Ian gave him time to recover before asking, “What’s the prognosis on your vision?”

Ed’s voice strengthened. “Long range estimate is complete recovery in the left eye. Maybe fifty percent in the right. It’ll be enough to get back to work.”

“Have you worked at all? You were a heavy equipment operator, right?”

Ed shook his head. “My wife works and with my benefits, it’s enough to live. Her folks been payin’ our mortgage. Pretty soon, I’ll be able to look for a job.”

Colette wondered what his prospects really were and understood more fully Ian’s motivation for telling the veterans’ stories.
 

Just then, two little kids, a boy and girl, stepped out the back door, and she waved them over to where she and Gerry played in the grass.
 

“Hi,” she said to them. “Gerry has a new toy. Do you want to see how it works?”

The kids watched as she hid a treat inside the toy and gave the command to Gerry to open it. She taught the procedure to Ed’s kids, plus some extra ways they might play with the dog. By the time she finished, the interview had ended and Ian stood with Ed and his wife, camera in hand.

“Are you ready for me to take some photographs now?” Ian asked the couple. “We’ll want some with your family and with Gerry. I’ll send you copies of all the photographs in a few weeks.”

Ian worked for several minutes taking shots of the veteran and his family. Afterward, he took pictures of the kids playing in the backyard. Colette realized that the photo shoot was a way of paying the veteran back for his time and willingness to talk. Before they left, Colette spent a few minutes with Ed and his wife explaining some techniques for managing Gerry, and she gave them her business card if they needed anything for him.
 

Colette waited until Ian put his car in gear, and it was rolling down the street before asking the question she could no longer contain. “You were injured in Iraq?”

“Yeah.” His tone was distant.

“First tour or second?”

“Second.”

“You never mentioned that.”

“No reason to.”

“Really?” She was a little pissed. It was irrational, but she couldn’t help it. “You were just going to skip it.”

“You’d have noticed eventually.” He stopped for a traffic light, but continued to stare straight ahead.

“How?” She persisted.

“Shit, Colette.” While the light was still red, he pulled his shirt from the waistband of his pants to expose the skin on his abdomen. He had a scar, about the size of a quarter, from a bullet wound on his side. The skin all around it was smooth and tanned, but the scar was a mix of white scar tissue and red flesh. Ian dropped his shirt when the light turned green.
 

“Does it hurt?” Colette wanted to touch and soothe it, but his actions made it clear he didn’t want her sympathy.
 

“Not anymore. I was lucky it went straight through.”

“That’s lucky?” The scar on his back must have been even larger….

“Didn’t hit anything important.”

Colette let it drop for now, but she wanted to keep him talking about the afternoon so she could learn more about his experiences. “Is Ed going to be able to work again like he wants?”

“I don’t know. There are a lot of vets like Ed. The fortunate ones can pick up their lives when they get home, but for the ones like Ed…” He trailed off, sighing. ”He’s disabled, obviously, which is tough enough for job hunting. And he’s a vet, which most people won’t understand. There’s a mental aspect to it, too…But no matter what, there will be people who say it’s his fault.” Ian gripped the steering wheel. “In a small town where people band together, maybe here, but all the others….”

The importance of Ian’s project struck Colette. “You’re doing this project for guys like Ed.”

“For all of us. The stories have to be told by someone.” He turned a corner, headed out of town. “Several years ago, I saw an exhibit of Mathew Brady’s Civil War photographs. Some of the photos had the stories of the men who were in them. You’ve seen those pictures, right? Brady told the truth with his camera. War is ugly and brutal. Everyone knows that, but they don’t know the faces involved. Brady told that story, the one of the people who fought, suffered, changed, or died. I decided then that I wanted to do this project.”

She thought about the time he’d spent capturing what he described and took a guess. “You’ve staked everything on it, haven’t you?”