him, Lacey gasped, then her face broke into a huge grin. It felt natural to pull her into a happy embrace, but the fullness in his chest at the feel of her small body jammed up against his felt…disquieting. He released her, then brought up Barry’s number on his phone. “Sheridan found Benjamin,” he said, hearing the pride in his own voice. “The boy’s alive. Get a medic up here.”
Chapter Thirteen
“A happy ending all around,” Rachel Hutchins said.
“Yes,” Lacey agreed while she rang up the bill for Nigel’s grooming session. Her heart still swelled when she thought of the moment she and Mike had found Sheridan standing over little Benjamin Tyler. The sheer determination and the teamwork of the man and his dog left her breathless with admiration. “I saw the twins out playing yesterday. Ben’s mother says he’s doing great.”
Rachel leaned in with a smile. “Good publicity for Sweetness, too. And for the dog training center. Barry asked Mike Nichols to stay here and teach at the facility.”
Lacey’s heart lurched. “He did?”
“But Mike said no.”
Her heart sank. “He did?”
Rachel nodded, oblivious to the cardio workout she was giving Lacey. “He’s leaving today, I think.”
That’s what she’d heard, too. They hadn’t seen much of each other in the two weeks since Sheridan’s famous rescue. With Sheridan recovered and back to his old self, there’d been no need for her to stay at the cabin any longer—fortuitous, considering how awkward things had been after they’d slept together. In the commotion of getting the Tyler boy to safety, she’d quietly peeled off and gotten a ride back to the cabin, packed her things and left Mike a brief, breezy note. Since that day, he and Sheridan had been swept up in the media coverage Rachel and the U.S. Army had arranged while Sheridan completed his refresher course at the training center. In addition to the joyous outcome for the Tyler family, Lacey was happy for Mike that Sheridan had recovered, and for all the attention the coverage of the search would bring to SAR dog programs.
Rachel angled her head. “I heard through the grapevine that the two of you were…close.”
Lacey managed a nonchalant expression. “His dog was having some behavioral issues. He hired me to work with Sheridan.”
The couple of times she’d bumped into Mike at the diner, she’d been cheerful and offhand, but left with her stomach churning and her heart bruised. She only had herself to blame, though—Mike Nichols hadn’t made her any promises. She’d known he was only passing through when she’d laid her heart open.
“He’s really cute,” Rachel offered, arching a perfect eyebrow.
“Yes,” Lacey said, then smiled. “Sheridan is a beautiful dog.”
Her entire life, she’d promised herself she wouldn’t fall for a guy who would leave her, and she’d done exactly that. Shame on me.
Rachel pouted. “Well, I can see I’m going to get no details out of you. But I don’t mind saying I’m glad you didn’t fall in love with an outsider and leave Sweetness. I have big plans for this town, you know.”
Lacey nodded. “Thanks again for your business.” She leaned over to rub the sweet-faced pug. “Bye, Nigel.”
“Have a great day,” Rachel said, then walked out on impossibly high heels.
“I will,” Lacey murmured to herself, somewhat unconvincingly. She tried to tell herself her life was no better and no worse than it had been before she met Mike Nichols—she had good friends, she loved this town and her business was thriving. And thanks to Mike, she now had those two new hydraulic grooming tables she’d coveted.
But she was still beset with a sense of loss that felt like a stone in her chest and weighed her down as she moved through her day. Scarily, she realized she was acting the same way her mother had behaved when her father had left, and she didn’t want to be near that place.
So that was why she was glad he was leaving today. It would be easier to put him out of her mind when she knew he was far away.
The bell on the door chimed. When she looked up, the man who had consumed her thoughts the past couple of weeks was standing there, with Sheridan. The black Lab held the pink stuffed bone in his mouth, but otherwise looked like a very different dog, with his head and tail high, his eyes shining and alert.
“Hi,” Mike offered, his expression unreadable. He was imposing, dressed in Army fatigues stuffed down into boots, and a faded T-shirt