Copper Lake Confidential - By Marilyn Pappano Page 0,47
on it.”
“That’s pretty cool. Do you like puppies?”
Her hair bounced with her emphatic nod. “Do you have any?”
“I have a dog. His name is Scooter.”
“Where is he?”
“At home.”
She pointed to the house. “In there?”
Of course she didn’t remember that this was her home, where she’d lived half her life. Granted, it had been a very short life. “No, my house is down the road that way.”
She looked to the north, gaze narrowed as if she could see through the fence and trees all the way to his little place, then turned that calculating look back on him. “Is it very far?”
“No.”
“Can we go see Scooter?”
Brent’s snort indicated he’d seen that request coming. Stephen didn’t mind introducing her to the dog. If he was going to help Macy pick out a puppy for her, it would be good to see how she interacted with him. “We’ll have to ask your mom about that.”
The kitchen door opened at that moment and Clary skipped over to meet Macy and Anne, each carrying a tray with drinks and plates of cookies. “Mama, he has a dog and we want to go see him. Can we, please?”
Macy’s expression as she smiled down at her daughter was enough to make Stephen’s chest hurt. Mothers loved daughters—no surprise there. But this look was so sweet, so intense, so...hell, so loving that he had to swallow hard to clear the lump from his throat.
When she shifted her gaze to him, the lump was right back. “You want to bring Scooter over? He can go for another swim.”
“Sure.” Stephen would have agreed to anything for that look. Go get the dog? No big deal. Flap his arms and fly the quarter mile? Easy. Slay a few monsters along the way? You bet.
With an excess of energy, he surged to his feet, pulling his keys from his pocket at the same time. Clary, cheering and swirling wildly, bumped into his legs and glanced up to give him a similar look. “Thank you, Dr. Stephen.”
He brushed his palm against her hair. “You’re welcome. We’ll be right back.”
“Thank you, Dr. Stephen,” Macy murmured when he passed her.
“You can repeat that later,” he whispered before stepping through the door.
He’d gone home after work to change clothes and walked back for lunch. His return walk was more of a jog. It took him maybe half a minute to wake Scooter and get his leash attached, then they headed for Macy’s.
“Home really is close,” Anne commented when the two of them came back onto the patio. She was sitting on the love seat next to Brent, a sweating glass of tea in hand. With straight black hair and a narrow face, she reminded him of an editor he’d once worked with, though Anne’s ready smile diminished the resemblance. That editor had had no sense of humor or compassion for brand-new authors.
“It’s just down the road,” he replied.
“Hey, Scooter,” Macy said, scratching between his ears. “We’ve got someone who wants to meet you, sweetie. Clary?”
The girl popped up from the carpetlike grass between two large beds of flowers, and her eyes widened to saucer size. “A puppy!” Scrambling to her feet, she ran across the lawn. At the last instant before collision, she stopped beside Stephen and Scooter and beamed at each of them. Excitement vibrated through her.
Stephen commanded Scooter to sit, then knelt beside them. “Clary, this is Scooter. He’s three years old, like you, and he likes to run and get tickled.”
“Like me!” she exclaimed. “Can I pet him?”
The dog had had plenty of exposure to kids, but Stephen stayed close anyway, holding her hand so Scooter could sniff her, showing her how to pet and where to tickle, explaining the importance of not startling or hurting him. When he was sure Clary understood as well as Scooter did, he stood and stepped back, letting them interact together.
“Have a seat,” Macy said, bumping his leg with her elbow.
He watched Clary a moment longer, then took the armchair next to Macy’s. A glass of tea had been placed on the coffee table in front of the chair, on top of a napkin that was soaked and dripping. After taking a long drink, he picked up a cookie, too, oatmeal with walnuts, and bit in.
“How’s it going with the packing?” Brent asked.
Macy’s slim shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I delivered a few boxes to the retirement center this morning. A group that helps young women is picking up the family room and some of the guest