Chapter Fifteen
brEANNA
GRABBING THE whelping box from the back seat of my truck, I follow Koda to the fence, but the stretched-out hole isn’t big enough for me to get through.
“You got any wire cutters?” I’m asking Mato, but I’m still trying to avoid looking at him.
Koda yells, “I do,” and he runs like the kid from The Incredibles to the building.
Mato is standing to the side of me, his presence feels as familiar as being at home, and that’s the last thing I need to feel. The more I’m around him, feelings I haven’t felt in a long time are pushing to the front. It’s pissing me off.
“Thank you for your help.” His deep, smooth voice still wraps around me like the softest of caresses, and I try to ignore the small shiver that skates up my spine.
The sound of puppies whining draws my attention to an old, abandoned train car about four yards away from us. Shielding my eyes with my hand against the setting sun as I take in the area, I respond, “It’s what I do.”
Shoes slapping on concrete has both of us turning to the little boy who almost broke my heart again today running across the parking lot.
When I saw him in the back of Mato’s truck, my first thought was that he was his son, and my second thought was that he looks just the right age to have been born when he left me.
In that brief, frozen moment, my stomach dropped as a dozen scenarios were created in my mind, and none of them spared me from the same feelings of betrayal and loss I felt all those years ago.
But now that I’ve got a good look at him, he’s obviously a child who’s been neglected.
The Mato I know would never knowingly neglect his child.
The boy is wearing clothes that look like they were partly from the lost and found and partly from the trash.
His shoes have a hole in them, and that bothers me because it’s getting colder outside every day.
He lowers to one knee in front of the fence and snaps through the metal links with a set of wire cutters that are missing the rubber grips on the handles. He takes less than a minute to cut a line high enough for me and Mato to get through.
Looking at the gaping pocket on his baggy jeans, Koda drops the wire cutters into the hole before he grabs one side of the cut fence and pulls it back for me to go through. Mato steps around me to grab the other side.
Crouching to duck-walk through the opening, I push the whelping box through first and turn to hold the fence so they can get through.
The whining travels on the cool breeze, making it louder, and I look around the area, my eyes landing on the older building Mato bought for his gym. At dinner last weekend, I heard him talking to Tucker about opening an MMA gym. I’m impressed with the building; it’s actually really cool for a gym.
As Mato moves through the hole in the fence after Koda, the muscles in his shoulders and back roll gracefully, and a warm sensation I haven’t felt in a long time swirls low in my belly. With a sharp intake of air, I tear my eyes from him and look across the abandoned stockyard.
Damn it. I just need to stop looking at him.
He quickly stands up to his full height and looks down at me. “What? What’s wrong?”
Heat moves up the back of my neck as I clear my throat and shake my head, keeping my gaze in the distance. “Uhm, nothing, I was just wondering how long it’s been since the puppies have eaten. They’re probably hungry.”
“We should hurry.” Koda picks up the whelping box without another glance at us and walks toward the train car.
“Wait, bud, we need to look out for snakes or any other wildlife that may be in those bushes.” Mato protectively follows the boy closely.
He would have been a good father. It doesn’t happen often, but for a split second, I wonder what our child would have looked like and what kind of family we would be.
Shaking myself out of my spiraling thoughts, I focus and catch up with Koda, who doesn’t even pay attention to the overgrown bushes around the train car. He sets the box on the ground and drops to his hands and knees to look through the hole in the shrubbery the mama dog wore down.
“There they are.” Excitement is in his voice.
Getting on my knees behind him, I try to look over his shoulder, but the bushes are too thick. Koda pushes through the hole before I have a chance to scope out the area.
“Koda, be careful.” I say as he crawls away from me. He’s so slim that he fits through the small hole with no issue.
He crawls on his hands and knees to where they are, and I notice old, ratty towels pushed around the area where the puppies are nestled together.
I’m pretty sure that Koda is the one responsible for that because it’s been so cold at night.
He also scooted through those bushes as if he’s done it before.
“Aww, their eyes are still closed,” he coos.
“How many can you see? Can you bring them to me one at a time, and I’ll put them in the box.” I slide the box closer to me as I keep my eyes glued on him.
Mato crouches down behind me to also watch Koda, shifting to his knees at my back so that they are on each side of me.
Koda whisper-counts as his finger points to each one. “One, two, three, four, five. There are five.” Tenderly, he picks one up and holds it against his chest as he pets it, the crying getting louder. “They’re so soft.”
Watching him reminds me of a younger me when we found a box of Australian Shepherd puppies at the end of our driveway at the ranch.
There were three of them, and I tried so hard to nurse them and take care of them, but only one lived.
Dad said it was parvo. I cried for days.
The surviving puppy ended up being our ranch dog, Wilson, and then my niece, Lainey Rai’s, dog until he passed away from old age last year.
Koda crawls back to me slowly, cradling the puppy against him and hands it through the bush.
Grabbing it with both hands, I turn it over.
“Girl.” She’s silver-gray with darker gray spots on her back and head.
Her eyes are still sealed shut and her pink tongue is still rounded as if she’s ready to suck her dinner.
As I lean toward the box to set her down, I bump into Mato’s chest, which is very close behind me, and I feel the heat of his body against my back. Turning my head enough to look over my shoulder, I freeze, and so does he. I can feel his gaze on the side of my face.
Back when we were together, one of my favorite positions when we would sit outside under the dark sky and bright stars was leaning against his chest, my head on his shoulder, with his arms wrapped around me. It felt like the safest place in the world.
Shaking my head to snap myself out of it, I take a deep breath and set the puppy in the box before I turn to get the next one.
Koda hands me two more girls and two boys. Most of them are the same gray color as the first one he handed me, but a couple are brown with black stripes down their faces. Then he excitedly crawls through the bush to sit on his knees next to the box.
Bending closer, he slides his small finger down their heads, one at a time. “They’re so little.”
“Well, they’ve definitely got their mama’s genes, so they’ll get big fast.” I say as I watch him marvel at the tiny lives in front of us.
His head snaps up and he looks at me wide-eyed. “Can I help take care of them?”
My heart sinks. “My hospital is kind of far away; I don’t see how you would be able to take care of them every day.”
His face falls with his shoulders, and he drops his eyes back to the puppies.
“He could visit on the weekends.” Mato offers from behind me.
Koda’s head jerks back up, and his eyes are wide as he looks at me.
“I’m on call on the weekends, so I wouldn’t be able to drive you…”
“I’ll do it.” Mato offers, stopping me from completing my sentence.
I clear my throat, knowing that if I agree to this, I will see Mato every weekend for the foreseeable future. But Koda’s eyes are so hopeful, and, in all honesty, I wouldn’t mind the help with them. Puppies can be demanding.
Then I remember Mato telling me he offers him odd jobs for cash.
I nod my head. “Okay, but if you’re going to be there anyway, maybe you could help with some other chores around the hospital and I could pay you?”
Koda’s head bobs, his eyes wide. “Yeah, I can help.”
“Okay, well, I’ll see you Saturday morning around nine or ten?”
Koda looks over my shoulder at Mato, and a silent transaction happens that I can’t see, and then his bright eyes move back to me. “Okay.”