Baby, Hold On - By Stephanie Bond Page 0,24

the door and found Sheridan cowering under the bench as before. He sounded so panic-stricken, her heart went out to the animal.

“I thought you fixed him.”

Lacey turned around to find Mike standing there in boxer shorts, hands on hips.

“I thought you fixed him,” he repeated. His voice rang with accusation.

She was stung he could talk to her like that, especially after what had just happened between them.

Then realization dawned: He’d slept with her because he was happy—maybe grateful—she’d “fixed” his dog, not because he’d felt anything special for her.

“It’s not that simple,” she said, gritting back tears. “I told you, some things can’t be fixed.”

Lacey got down on her stomach and inched forward until she could hold Sheridan’s head and make him look into her eyes. It was dark under the piece of furniture, the dog wouldn’t care if she cried.

So she let the tears fall and said the same comforting words in his ear that she’d used to soothe her pet Max after her father had left when she was seven years old. During those unhappy days when her mother had been buried in melancholy and her sister had been busy consoling their mother, Max had been her salvation.

At length, Sheridan quieted and his tail thumped on the floor. She coaxed him out and back to his bed, where he circled a few times before settling down. The storm still raged overhead. Lacey pulled the curtains closed, scrupulously avoiding eye contact with Mike, who stood like a sentry in the dark, silent and condemning.

“I’ll leave tomorrow,” she murmured. “You can have a refund.”

“Lacey—”

“Don’t,” she cut in, chopping the air with her hand. “From the very beginning, you made it clear you don’t trust me. But I agreed to try to help Sheridan anyway, because I felt sorry for him and frankly, because I needed the money. But I told you there were no guarantees. I’m sorry you’re disappointed, but I won’t let you blame me for Sheridan’s setback.”

She turned and marched to her bedroom. Once there, she closed the door and exhaled heavily, then crawled into the bed and removed a handkerchief from her nightstand to wipe a fresh crop of tears.

This was a personal record, she mused—discarded by a man while she could still feel the imprint of his body on hers.

The storm raging outside rivaled the one in her head and in her heart. She shouldn’t care what the man thought of her…it was ridiculous to have feelings for someone so soon…it was her relative inexperience that made her feel this way.

A few minutes later, a knock sounded on her door. She decided to pretend she was asleep until Mike went away. Instead, he knocked again, this time louder.

“Lacey,” he called, his voice urgent. “I need your help.”

She frowned and pushed to her feet, then walked to the door. She opened it a few inches. “Mike, I don’t think—”

“A boy is lost.”

She realized he was fully dressed. “What?”

“Barry just called. A young boy is lost—Benjamin Tyler?”

Her mind went back to the towheaded boys who’d petted Sheridan. “I know him. He’s a twin. What happened?”

“Apparently he and his brother set a fire and he ran away, probably afraid to go home.”

Lightning crashed above the roof.

“He’s out in this storm?” Lacey’s heart rate picked up speed.

Mike nodded, his face grim. “I’m going to join the search party, but Barry asked me if Sheridan was ready for tracking.” He straightened. “What do you think?”

She swallowed hard, surprised and flattered he’d ask her opinion. She looked past him to where Sheridan lay sleeping, no doubt spent from the recent incident. “Aren’t other dogs from the center available?”

“He has two, but they’re area dogs. With this rain, time is of the essence because the scent is being washed away.” He dragged his hand down his face. “My gut tells me to take him out to see if he even responds, but…”

“But taking him out in a storm like this could result in a setback he might not recover from,” she finished.

“That’s what I’m afraid of. So…what should I do?”

Lacey pressed her lips together. “A little boy’s life is at stake. You have to try.”

He gave a curt nod. “Right. Will you go with me? You have such a way with Sheridan, I think it’ll help.”

She hesitated.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I was out of line. Don’t do this for me—do it for Sheridan…and the boy.”

Lacey nodded. “I’ll be out in five minutes.”

Chapter Twelve

The fact that Sheridan balked at walking out