likelihood I wouldn’t see Nick again, or if I did it would be an awkward and uncomfortable farewell. To my surprise, I heard Rover whining outside my door.
“Rover?” I scooted off the mattress and came to the door. Sure enough, it was Rover. He sat on his haunches and stared up at me.
“What’s wrong?” I asked when he continued to whine.
As if answering me, he barked once and came into my room, turned his head around, and looked at me as if to say I should close the door and join him.
“What do you want, boy?” I asked, doing as he commanded and closing my door. I sat on the edge of the bed and Rover raised up on his hind legs and placed his paws in my lap.
His dark brown eyes looked up at me with the saddest expression I’d ever seen on a dog. Then he rested his chin on my knee and let out a soft whine.
I stroked his head, and as I did, I realized this was exactly how I felt. As if the only friend I had in the entire world had deserted me.
Mark was making good progress, gaining strength every day. He was able to walk an entire block now and forced himself to go farther every day. Rover and I strolled along with him, my arm tucked around his. I insisted we go together. My fear was that Mark would push himself to the point he was too weak to make it back to the inn on his own.
I enjoyed our morning walks. We often held hands. I knew Mark was healing when he started teasing me.
“I see you’re still spoiling Rover.”
“I don’t spoil Rover,” I insisted.
“Do, too. All he has to do is look at you and you give in.”
“Not true,” I fussed.
“Jo Marie, honestly, do you think I didn’t see you feed him from the table last night?”
“It was a onetime thing. He likes cooked carrots.”
Mark arched his brows as if he didn’t believe me. “You could have put them in his dog dish.”
He had me there. “Yes, I could have, but Rover likes them better warm.”
Mark burst out laughing. “You claim you don’t spoil your dog and yet you feed him cooked carrots from the table because he likes them still warm? I rest my case.”
“Maybe I spoil Rover just a little.” But that was all I was willing to concede.
Mark frowned at me. “You spoil him a lot.”
I could see we weren’t going to be able to settle this. “Let’s agree to disagree.”
He squeezed my hand and dragged me closer to his side. “You’re as stubborn as you always were.”
“No comment.” I swear no man could irritate me as much as Mark, and at the same time no one made me laugh as much, either.
He wasn’t an easy man to love. If matters turned out the way I wanted, our life together would be full of passion and emotion. That didn’t bother me. What terrified me was the thought of living without him. One would think by now I’d have grown more comfortable dealing with loss. I wasn’t. When Paul died it felt like a giant hole I was forced to walk around each morning. I had the same feeling the year Mark was away, only this time the hole was deeper and wider.
I’d told Greg that I loved Mark and felt it would be unfair to continue to see him. No matter what Mark decided, I would wait it out. I hated the thought of it and as much as possible put Iraq out of my mind. We avoided the topic. As hard as it was, I didn’t feel I should use my love or threats to influence him. He already knew how I felt about him leaving again. I didn’t need to repeatedly hit him over the head with my feelings.
With Mark recuperating at the inn, our days had settled into a comfortable routine. We spent a lot of time together one on one. That time helped heal the pain and the hurts of the last year. I baked him cookies and sat with him in the afternoons while he napped. I hadn’t returned to my spin class and feared Dana had made it all the way to Paris by now and was biking back while I was stuck some place in the middle of North Dakota.
My relationship with Mark changed after his meeting with Greg. I didn’t know what the two had said to each other.