Chapter 4 #2
Lyle exhaled, his features softening in the way they always did when he talked about the little girl.
“She’s hanging in there. Joe’s good with her and she seems to trust him.
But she’s still got days where the smallest thing will set her off.
I don’t always know if I’m helping or making it worse.
” He gave a faint laugh, though there wasn’t much humor in it.
“Pretty sure every time I think I’m getting it right, I step on a landmine. ”
Heather reached across and gave Muffin’s fur an absentminded stroke, her voice softening. “You’re doing better than you know, Lyle. It’s not about having all the answers. It’s about showing up. And you’ve done more for her than most men in your shoes would even try.”
Lyle looked at her then, really looked at her, and she felt the full weight of his gratitude mixed with something deeper, something that made her pulse skip in a way she wasn’t ready to name.
“You always did have a way of pulling people back from their edges,” he said quietly.
Heather swallowed hard, her thumb toying with the sandwich wrapper as she deflected, even as her heart threatened to betray her. “And you’ve always had a way of making things complicated.”
Lyle laughed, the sound warm and rolling like the low rumble of thunder on a clear day. “Fair enough,” he said. “Guess that’s one thing I’m consistent about. So tell me. What made you want to train search and rescue animals?”
She gazed off in the distance, a familiar oppressiveness washing over her, the ever-present reminder that life didn’t always work out the way one might want. That there was ugliness in the world—in so many forms.
“My roommate in college,” she said. “Becky Meyers. I’m surprised Frank didn’t tell you the story. It was in all the papers.”
Lyle frowned. He’d been so wrapped up in his own life, he realized he hadn’t ever really asked Frank about Heather over the years.
He vaguely remembered that she’d gone off to college, a remark Frank had made in passing, but that was the end of his curiosity.
She simply hadn’t been on his radar back then.
The only personal thing he’d gleaned about Heather since he’d been home was that she’d been living in one of the cabins for nearly a year, and other than owning a renowned dog training business, she pretty much kept to herself.
“She was my best friend as well as my roommate,” Heather said. “You would have liked her. She was studying to be a veterinarian.” She gave a bittersweet smile. Little wonder that the people she’d always surrounded herself with—except for Bret—were animal lovers like herself.
“The last time I saw her, she’d laced up her running shoes, slapped on a ball cap and plugged headphones in her ears, off for her usual five-mile run just off campus.”
“Which school was this?”
“Texas A&M in Kingsville.”
He nodded but kept silent, urging her to go on with the story.
“That’s the last time I saw her. We searched for days. The town, the school, the authorities. Becky’s mom. Man that was hard to watch. Becky was her only child.”
He reached over and took her hand. She hardly noticed.
“The authorities wanted to run with the theory that she’d taken off with a boyfriend or something.
But that wasn’t Becky. She was gorgeous, yes, but she was dedicated to her studies and didn’t have time for relationships.
We partied like any other college girls, but Becky wouldn’t have just taken off on a whim. I knew it and her mother knew it.”
She brushed a strand of hair back from her face.
“I don’t know why it took them so long, but after about a week, they brought in search and rescue dogs.
We’d had rain for two days, and even though well-trained bloodhounds and scent dogs can still follow a trail under those conditions, they never found her. ”
“She’s still missing?”
“Her body is, yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. Watching those dogs, though, so full of heart and determination is what motivated me to learn the teaching methods and start my own business. Even though we never found Becky, I’ve trained dogs who’ve gone on to have successful careers and have located missing loved ones.
They’ve made a difference, and through them, I feel like I’ve made a difference.
It’s my homage to Becky and her family.”
“That’s an amazing, humbling purpose.”
Before she could respond, the sound of tires crunching gravel broke the moment.
Heather glanced toward the parking lot and spotted her next client stepping out of an older model crew cab pickup.
Before the woman could orient herself, a particularly rambunctious spaniel bounded out of the back seat and enacted a game of ‘chase’ around and under the vehicle, its fur-mom making things worse by engaging in the romp.
“Well,” Heather said with a mixture of regret and relief, standing and brushing dirt off her jeans. “Duty calls.”
Lyle stood too, his expression unreadable again, though the corners of his mouth tipped up slightly. “That little manic looks like fun. Guess I’ll let you get to it. And Firefly? I’m really sorry about your friend.”
She froze for the briefest moment at the way he said the nickname, the softness of it, the gentleness, the intimacy that seemed so natural.
Good Lord she was getting fanciful.
“Thanks for the tea,” she said quickly, her voice all business again as she backed toward the new client and their excited dog. “And good luck with Charlotte.”
“You know where to find me if you need more sandwiches,” Lyle called after her with a grin.
Heather didn’t look back, but as she made her way toward the waiting client, she realized her hands were trembling slightly.
Trouble. That’s what he was. Always had been.
And maybe this time, she wouldn’t be able to outrun her yearning.
It was nearing sunset by the time Heather finished for the day and made her way back to her cabin.
Biscuit and Muffin nosed at her legs as she walked, their wagging tails and happy barks a welcome reprieve from the swirling mix of emotions she’d been wrestling all day.
She let the dogs lead her to the steps of her porch, where she sank onto the top stair and propped her elbows on her knees.
Talking about Becky made her sad, reminded her that her friend was reduced to a cold case in the basement files of a Texas police department.
She only hoped that what she’d created here with the animals would continue to ripple worldwide, that each one of these dogs who graduated and went on to do their important work would indeed find the loved ones who were lost, or at the very least, be able to give the families the closure Becky’s mom never got.
The evening sky was painted in shades of pink and orange, the kind of Texas sunset that felt bigger than anything the human heart could hold. For a moment, she let herself feel small against it, closing her eyes and letting the distant sound of cattle and crickets fill the silence.
But her peace was short-lived, interrupted by the familiar sound of boots crunching on gravel. She opened her eyes to see Frank standing at the foot of her steps, holding a six-pack of Shiner Bock and looking far too pleased with himself.
“Well,” he greeted, his voice playfully drawling. “I hear you’ve been stirring things up with the Watkins boy.”
Heather groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “Oh, for crying out loud. Please tell me you haven’t been talking to Mike.”
“Oh, honey,” Frank said, climbing the steps and sitting beside her. “I’ve been talking to the whole town. And let me tell you, it’s getting good.”
“The whole town? I’ve barely been off the ranch!”
“See how great you are? People want to know all about you and talk about it. Although, in all fairness, that might have just been my wife bombarding me with questions.”
Heather laughed despite herself, reaching for one of the beers and cracking it open. “You’re incorrigible.”
Frank grinned, but his tone softened as he clinked his bottle against hers. “And you’re hiding something.”
Heather hesitated, her grip tightening slightly around the bottle. “There’s nothing to hide. I’m just finding my feet.”
“Every man’s not like Bret, sis.”
“I didn’t—”
“Look,” he interrupted. “I know you don’t want to go into detail about what happened in your marriage, but I’m your brother. I’m pretty good at figuring things out.”
“Frank—”
“I saw the bruises, Heather. That night you showed up at my door.”
She sucked in a breath, felt an instant punch of shame. But this was Frank. Her big brother. Her ride or die since their dad had taken off to parts unknown, unable to handle the mastectomy and breast cancer that their mother had eventually succumbed to.
She laid her head on Frank’s shoulder. Her abusive marriage was ancient history, more than a year ago. That Frank had known, but had allowed her to heal at her own pace, without prying or adding to her shame, meant a lot. “I love you,” she said simply.
“I know.” Frank didn’t press her further, letting the weight of her words settle comfortably between them as they both stared out at the horizon.
And for a little while longer, Heather allowed herself the quiet company of someone who understood life’s harder edges, even as the memory of Lyle’s gaze—steady and unyielding—lingered in the corners of her heart.