Beneath the Scars (6 page)

No Dixie.

A chill raced down my spine as I called out to her, searching the whole house. She wasn’t there. Panicking, I shoved my feet into some sneakers and ran down to the beach. Becoming frantic, I searched as my heart pounded and tears spilled down my cheeks. I called her name over the sound of the crashing waves, scanning the water in fear of seeing her lifeless, little form.

Darkness was falling, and I didn’t know what to do next. She never went out without me. She had never been alone. More tears gathered in my eyes as I stood, wringing my hands, lost and scared on the sand.

I couldn’t lose her. Where could she be? I looked up at the house on the bluff, hesitating. Maybe she had gone to find Elliott. After our last conversation I knew Zachary wouldn’t be very welcoming, but this was about Dixie—not him. I turned and started to run toward the stairs. Twice I slipped going up, landing painfully hard on my hands and knees, the tears making it difficult to see where I was going. When I reached the top, I looked around and called, but no little ball of fluff appeared. I rushed to the house, climbing the steps and banged on the door. Maybe Zachary had found her and taken her inside, knowing I would come and get her. There was no answer, so I banged again, swiping under my eyes as the tears flowed, my chest threatening to burst with the ache inside.

She couldn’t be lost. She couldn’t.

Just as I raised my hand up again, the door was flung open and Zachary filled the frame, somewhat hidden behind the door. The encroaching darkness surrounding me and his dim hallway made it difficult to see, but his harsh voice made it clear he wasn’t happy to see me.

“What?”

“Dixie… Have you seen her?” I gasped.

“No. Why would I?”

“She isn’t here?”

His voice became impatient, his accent even stronger than earlier. I could see one of his hands curled into a fist at his side; I knew he wasn’t pleased to be having this conversation with me. “Why would she be here?”

“I fell asleep…the screen opened up…I think she went outside…I can’t find her…” I babbled, my voice quivering.

“She isn’t here.”

I braced myself on the doorframe, my legs shaking. “I don’t know what to do.”

He shrugged. “Not much you can do. It’s almost dark.”

“I have to find her! I can’t leave her out all night!”

“How long has she been gone?”

“I don’t know. I was asleep.”

He stepped back, his hand on the door, beginning to push it shut.

“I can’t help you.”

“Please, Zachary; she’s so little. She must be lost…and so scared!”

His voice was angry when he spoke. “You should have taken better care of her, if you loved her so much.”

I gasped at his hurtful words.

“I had a migraine and she was beside me when I lay down—” I protested. I looked around wildly. “Oh God, what if she wandered off into the woods?”

His voice was cold. “There’s nothing much you can do at this point. You’ll have to look in the morning. The only thing you can do is pray a coyote doesn’t get her first.”

Then the door slammed shut.

CHAPTER FIVE

I stumbled back from the door, my hand covering my mouth.

That man wasn’t only rude or unfriendly. He was cruel.

I made it to the top step before my legs gave out on me and I fell down, wrapping my arms around my legs as I sobbed.

My little Dixie.

I had gotten her from a shelter when she was about nine months old. She’d been found in an alley—dirty, scared, and so thin. We’d made an instant connection when Dixie’s paw had reached through her kennel, stopping me as I walked down the aisle. I bent down to say hello, and I was in love. The staff at the shelter had named her Dixie since she loved to run around with one of the small cups clasped in her mouth, using it like a toy. It suited her, so I kept the name and she’d been with me ever since—the one real constant in my life.

I felt a few raindrops start and my tears became harder, my sobs wrenching out of my chest in loud gasps. From behind me, I could hear a low whimper, which caused me to lift my head.

Elliott. He heard me crying and was answering me in his own way.

Showing that, unlike his cold-hearted master, he did care.

I had to find Dixie.

With a new determination, I jumped up, wiped the tears away from my face, and ran down the steps. I raced as fast as I could across the sand, stumbling over my own feet in my haste, the space between the two houses seemingly vast all of a sudden. Once my steps faltered as his words “you’d better pray a coyote doesn’t find her first” flashed through my head. I lurched forward as nausea washed over me, and I dry heaved onto the sand at the thought of Dixie being hurt because of my carelessness. When I reached the empty house, my hope of finding Dixie waiting for me on the deck, was crushed, so I grabbed two things: my jacket and the flashlight. I had no choice; I had to try and find her. I had seen a path the other day in the woods behind the house—I would follow it as far as I could. I prayed I would find Dixie before I had to turn around.

I tore out the back door and stopped at the edge of the forest. Taking a deep breath, I plunged into the woods. Gloom instantly surrounded me as I hurried forward, calling out Dixie’s name. Branches grabbed at my clothes, tearing at my hair as the woods closed in—the denseness around me muffling the sound of the ocean. The way ahead was unclear, and I stopped, panicking. How was I ever going to find Dixie in all of this unfamiliar darkness? I turned, realizing I no longer even knew where the house was located. I had no choice but to continue the way I came. Pushing forward, I began to pray.

I was unaware of how much time had passed when I fell over an exposed tree root, twisting my ankle, crying out in the dark. I had been searching and calling, stopping to listen, praying I would hear Dixie’s bark. All I heard, though, were the sounds of the forest around me, the rain as it hit the trees, and my own sobbing breaths. I had been heading uphill for a while and the sound of the ocean was still to my left side, but otherwise, I knew I was hopelessly lost. I should never have come into the woods. The trail had petered out rather fast, but I had continued pushing ahead, my need to find Dixie overriding all my common sense.

Now, I lay sobbing in the wet mud and dead leaves left by the cold winter. Why didn’t I bring my cellphone? Why hadn’t I waited until daylight? As much as I hated to admit it, Zachary had been right to say I needed to wait until the morning, but it had been his harsh remark about the coyotes that had sent me running in here, in a tailspin of fear.

Gingerly, I climbed to my knees, wincing as I pushed off the wet ground in an attempt to get to my feet. My jeans were torn and my hands and knees were both covered in scratches and cuts. I stood, my legs unsteady, but collapsed back down when my ankle gave out as soon as I put weight on it. Crying, I crawled my way over to the closest tree, leaning up into it, hugging my good leg to my chest while my injured one stayed outstretched. The flashlight was lying beside me, its beam focused on the torn leg of my jeans, so I left it on as a form of comfort. Even though I knew the batteries would run out, I wasn’t ready to be in total darkness yet. I took in several breaths, trying to calm myself. I needed a plan.

No one knew where I was, so I had to get myself out of the forest. I closed my eyes and listened. The ocean was in front of me, which meant so was the beach. If I went straight ahead I could get there and then get back to the house. If I’d been going uphill, as I thought, that meant I must be headed toward the bluff. I needed a stick to lean on, a good firm branch that would hold my weight while I inched forward. I only had to rest for a few minutes before I attempted to get to my feet again. I felt fresh tears gather when I realized I couldn’t look for Dixie anymore. I would have to call Mrs. Cooper in the morning and ask for help.

Hoping, as Zachary so
kindly
suggested, we found her before another animal did.

Shivering, I closed my eyes and hugged myself.

I’d rest for a few minutes, gather some strength and then I’d get up.

I had to get up. I had to find Dixie.

A sound woke me. Something was moving quickly across the ground, shuffling dead twigs and leaves that covered the forest floor. I pushed back into the tree, gripping the flashlight, ready to use it as a weapon. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep—I’d only meant to rest for a moment and gather my strength.

I swallowed, fear racing down my spine as the noises came closer, and I shut my eyes when the sound stopped, too terrified to look at what was now right beside me. Shaking from cold and panic, I bit down on my lip to stop the terrified scream that was building. The brush of fur on my hands startled me, but it was the long wet lick of a rough tongue that caused me to gasp, my eyes flying open as I stared into Elliott’s face. My fear was instantly replaced with relief and I flung my arms around his great neck, sobbing. It was when I heard Zachary’s impatient voice, and realized he was right behind Elliott, that I raised my head.

He stood, looking down at me, bathed in semi-darkness. With a muttered curse, he kneeled beside me. “Are you hurt?”

I could only nod; too shocked at his sudden appearance to speak.

“Aside from the obvious, where?”

The obvious
?

I pointed a shaking finger to my ankle.

He leaned down, his fingers prodding and checking. I winced when he tried to bend it and he placed my foot back down. “I don’t think it’s broken, but I’m not sure you can walk.”

“I know.”

He sat back on his heels. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“Dixie—” My voice trailed off as his anger exploded.

“…was lost.” He finished my sentence. “So you decide to compound the problem by charging into the woods and getting yourself lost, as well? Do you have any common sense at all? What good would it do her if you were hurt? Jesus, if I hadn’t found you—” He paused, only to start berating me again. “Do you have any brains in that head of yours, Megan?”

I took in a shuddering breath, startled by his fury.

“You are an awful man.”

He laughed—the sound dry and bitter. “Hardly a news flash, my dear.” He stood up and reached for my hand. “We need to get you out of the woods and somewhere warm.”

“Dixie—”

“She’s safe and sitting by the fire, in my living room. I found her not long after you left.”

My gasp of relief was almost painful and the tears started running down my face again. I buried my face in my hands, huge sobs ripping from my chest. Zachary’s voice was softer when he spoke again. “Megan, we need to get you out of these woods. I’ve been looking for you for over an hour; we need to get out of the cold. Give me your hand, please.”

He’d been looking for me?

I wiped my eyes and held out my hand, allowing him to pull me up. When I was standing, my legs wobbling, he hesitated. “If you help me, support my weight a little, I think I can walk,” I insisted.

He moved closer, wrapping his arm around my waist, allowing my weight to settle into him. Despite the reason he was holding me, my body reacted. Warmth surged through me at his close proximity and I trembled from his touch.

“Try a step.”