Open Your Heart (Kings Grove #4) - Delancey Stewart Page 0,44

in this beautiful woman who I’d known as a little girl—here was a piece of my past that only she held. I had no siblings, and my childhood secrets were shared mostly with Annie, whispered promises and giggled ideas about everything from the salamanders we’d fish out of the stream to the someday weddings we dreamed about. Something loosened inside me when she hugged me, and I found myself feeling more centered than I’d ever managed to through any amount of yoga.

“It’s great to see you,” she said, and when Annie said something, you could tell she really meant it. Her authenticity radiated from her, making me feel included, understood.

“You too.”

“We’re going to have to catch up for real,” she said. “But first, I’d better take a look at mom dog over here.” Annie crossed the room and lowered herself next to the dogs. “Cam,” she said, as she picked up each pup and looked it over before replacing it at the big dog’s stomach, “I never pegged you for the soft-hearted rescue dog type.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” he said, settling in an armchair nearby.

“That’s not exactly true,” I said, earning myself a narrowed gaze from him. I plopped down in the chair next to him, watching Annie examine the bigger dog. “We heard the dog crying and howling, and he took her food and water. He pretends to be all tough and distant, but I suspect Cameron here has a pretty mushy interior under this hard shell.” I glanced at Cam and poked him in the arm. He looked surprised at my words, caught off guard.

“Guess you can think whatever you want,” he said, the hard edge of his voice missing.

“Thanks,” I teased, grinning at him.

I could tell he was trying not to let me in, didn’t want to smile, to banter, but I kept my smile aimed at him and after a few seconds, one side of his mouth lifted as he shook his head. Cameron was a tough nut to crack, but breaking through the protective barrier he erected around himself was a reward in itself—and I was a gold star kind of girl. Driven to achieve and to beat whatever challenges lay before me. Plus, when Cam smiled, my insides flipped over in a way I was coming to enjoy a lot.

“Mom’s dehydrated and probably exhausted,” Annie said. “And this wound definitely needs cleaning.” Annie went back to the door and picked up the medical bag she’d dropped there. She gave the dog a shot of something, “just to keep her calm,” she explained. And then she went to work, using a pan of warm water and some gauze to clean out the nasty gash on the dog’s tail end, and then stitching it up carefully after she’d shaved around the wound and injected some anesthetic. Finally, she smeared on some antibiotic ointment and covered the gash with a bandage. “You’ll need to change this each day,” she told Cam.

“If the dog will let me touch her,” he said, sounding doubtful.

“I can help,” I volunteered, kneeling by the dog’s head.

Annie attached the IV, and once the dog was resting, her babies nuzzling at her tummy, Cam offered us some coffee.

Seated around his small table, Annie said. “She doesn’t have a collar. You going to name her?”

“Don’t know that I’m keeping her,” Cam said.

“Well, you’re keeping her for six weeks or so,” Annie said with a mock-stern tone. “Until the pups are big enough to give away or sell. Might want to give her a name until then, at least.”

“Cinderella,” I suggested, shooting out the first thing that came to mind.

Cam wrinkled his nose at me. “No,” he said.

“Princess?” Annie suggested.

That wasn’t a good fit either though, and we all dismissed it almost immediately.

The conversation turned to other things, and Cam sat back as Annie and I caught up, though twenty years was hard to cover in fifteen minutes. She and I made plans to meet at the bar at the Inn later in the week, and then, when the IV was finished, Annie cleaned up and prepared to leave.

“I think you should keep her,” she told Cam.

“I’ll think about it,” he said. “Thanks for coming by, Annie.”

“Yeah, sorry I didn’t get your call,” she said. “I need to get that phone stitched to my hand or something.”

I stood as Annie got to her feet, trying to imagine a life in which my phone wasn’t basically glued to my fingertips. “Give me your number,”