Maybe she went out with friends, too. Maybe she dated these days. It wasn’t like she spent the entire night in her brother’s room.

  But it was pretty much certain that she was never going to be a favorite aunt to Duke’s kids.

  Wendy hadn’t responded, leaving silence between them.

  She hadn’t hung up, either, this woman who seemed to spend as much or more time volunteering in the Pets for Vets program as Julie spent sitting in Duke’s room.

  “He was on his second tour of duty in Afghanistan. Rank, second lieutenant. Conducting routine reconnaissance. The attack came out of nowhere. Shots coming down from a mountain peak. He never knew what hit him.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Her tone...it held understanding, not pity. Because of all of her work with vets?

  He started to tell her that he’d been there, too. But then, most likely the pity would finally come. She’d see more into his challenges than what was there—after all, she hadn’t expected him to be able to fly for her. She’d called but wasn’t counting on him as she’d always done. He was already appearing less dependable.

  No way he was going to be that guy. Afghanistan had already taken far too much from him. It wasn’t taking his identity as someone who could help, someone who could be counted on.

  “I’ve gone to see him every Wednesday since he came home.” Some mornings, some afternoons, a few times late at night after Julie had left, arranging visits around his schedule. Maybe Duke knew he came, maybe not. But if Duke was aware of it in any way, he’d be relying on Greg to be there.

  “I’m guessing that on some level he knows.”

  It was like she’d read his mind. Or his hopes. What was it with the woman, seeming to know him better than was logical? Knowing more about his private struggle than he was giving her?

  He didn’t want that, either.

  “Have you been up in the plane at all today?”

  A valid question, considering the circumstances. He should have gone up that morning. After the scare, he should have climbed down out of the cockpit, done his preflight check as he would normally have done, logged in the flight and headed up. Even if just for a few minutes.

  Instead, he’d hung up from her and run to Duke.

  “It was my day to see Duke.” The excuse was lame, and he was sure she knew it. He’d flown for Wendy on Wednesdays before and had gone to see Duke either before or afterward.

  “A dog could help, Greg.” Her tone came softly, but with the firmness he’d grown to expect from her. She told things like they were.

  One of the first things he’d liked about her.

  “I don’t need a dog.”

  He needed to quit giving in to his fears and fly. He was a pilot, damn it.

  Not a broken man.

  * * *

  Luckily Wendy had a busy day at the office on Thursday, with back-to-back appointments most of the morning. The work offered a needed distraction from the hurt and frustration that had been brewing since she’d hung up from Greg the evening before.

  Over the drive home from the shelter Wednesday, during dinner and throughout the miserable fail of an attempt to get through the pile of work she’d brought with her, the frustration had simmered, growing hotter, until it had bubbled up into something she had to face.

  And it gave her something to focus on other than the hurt—the tears that had sprung so shockingly to her eyes when Greg had rejected her offer to help him.

  Lord knew, her skin was tougher than that. All the vets she’d helped over the years...denial of any need for help was a common part of the process. There was no reason for her to take it so personally.

  Yet, she had.

  She was.

  Because he was shutting her out.

  Like Michael had.

  And her father continued to do.

  Greg wasn’t her family. But he was important to her.

  What was it with the men in her life? Why did they seem to think that it was okay to turn away from her as though she had nothing to offer?

  To banish her?

  Well, it wasn’t going to happen again. She wasn’t just going to turn her back while Greg hid his need from himself, as though admitting that he could use some help made him less of a man. What hiding did was let the insidious problem grow until his personhood became so diminished that he lost sight of its value.

  When that happened, there was too much of a risk of him deciding to just end his life. The way Michael had. The way their mother had, indirectly, via alcohol in the years after Michael’s suicide.

  Shaking as she walked to the corner pub for some dinner and a beer—and for some time not alone—she shut her mind down to Michael and that first devastating loss, to the horrifying memories of coming home from school to find her yard ablaze with swirling lights, the driveway and street filled with emergency vehicles...

  She pushed all of that aside and thought about what sounded good to eat.

  Looked for her usual corner table on the outdoor patio—the one set under a sourwood tree that provided shade to the rest of the patio—and gratefully took a sip of the beer that followed her to her seat. Along with smiles and a bit of catching up with the waitress who’d delivered it.

  It was nice to be known. To have one’s wants anticipated without having to speak them.

  It was nice to be appreciated.

  And maybe sometimes, it was necessary to fight.

  She’d been a kid when Michael had been struggling, when her mother had drunk herself to death, and her dad?

  She’d been so afraid of losing him, too, that she’d put up with his distance, never making an issue of it.

  Never letting him know how much it hurt.

  Never fighting for more time with him.

  Even as she sat there thinking about it all, she didn’t know how to bridge that gap with her father.

  But she wasn’t going to let Greg Martin push her away.

  And just like that, as though ideas had been stirring in her subconscious over the past twenty-four hours, the answer came to her. Without analyzing or even real thought, she pulled her phone out of her back pocket and dialed.

  He picked up on the first ring.

  Smart man.

  “I have a favor to ask,” she said before he’d even finished his Hello. “Not a flight. Something else.”

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  “I’ve been working with a dog at the Furever Paws Animal Rescue here in Spring Forest, an eleven-month-old German shepherd. He’s had service-dog training and from the very beginning has shown more promise than any dog I’ve ever worked with, but he’s got some continuing health issues that concern me.” She barely paused for air. Didn’t want him interrupting her while she was on a roll. Didn’t want time to think of all the reasons her plan wouldn’t work. “He needs to be fostered, to have more individualized home care, to help him recover more quickly and also to get him ready to serve—”

  “If you’re going to ask me to take in a foster dog, Wendy, stop right there. You think I’m that gullible? You can’t get me to agree to a dog’s help, so you’re going to foist one on me by framing it as a favor?”

  Pretty much. Yeah. “I wasn’t going to ask you to take him, Greg,” she almost bit out, frustration growing even stronger. How many times was the guy going to reject her?

  “He needs to stay in Spring Forest,” she continued with forced calm, while her knee bobbed faster than a drum could beat. “For veterinary care,” she added, so he’d know she wasn’t making it up. “He’s on a routine after transfusions, with medications and things.” She wasn’t going to get into all that.

  “An eleven-month-old dog had to have transfusions?” His tone, the surprised concern, gave her hope.

  “Among other things, yes. I spoke with Bethany yesterday, she’s the center’s manager, and Jedidiah’s bills are astronomical. They’re hoping to have a fundraiser soon to take care of the mounting costs for Jedidiah and the other animals that were rescued at the same time as him, and adoptions of other animals are happening very quickly, which brings in a little money, but they can’t continue to pay for Jedidiah’s training, and the girl they hired to do it can’t afford to work for free...”

  He asked what had happened to Jedidiah to begin with. She told him about the earlier arrest of the backyard breeder, and then she went straight to the point.

  “I’ve been working with Jedidiah, and I want to foster him, but there are days that I have to spend in my office, and I won’t have time to give him the training and attention he needs. I can arrange my office time so that it’s specific days a week, but there are certain clients I meet with in person and... Anyway, I was wondering, since you’ve been so eager to volunteer and you know the program...” she pulled out all the stops, shamelessly “... I was hoping you’d be willing to help out at my place, to work with Jedidiah at least part of the time I can’t be there—though, I have to say, it would be best if you could cover all the days that I work so he has consistency with his training. The sessions have to happen at intervals throughout the day. And he needs his medication at the same time every day, as well.”

  She paused for air and took heart when Greg didn’t immediately jump into the pause with more rejection.

  “Hearing you talk yesterday about Duke, I realized that you have an understanding of these vets that’s personal, something you can’t teach a person, and you could be a big help in testing Jedidiah’s level of training.”

  She paused again. To silence.

  “It would only be until Jedidiah’s ready to go to work,” she told him. “Could even just be a matter of weeks, if home care is as beneficial to speeding up his recovery as I think it will be.”

  “You’ve known the dog a while?”

  “Several months.”

  “And he really shows remarkable promise?”

  “More than I’ve ever seen. He’s aware, astute. He tunes in to people in a natural way.” All true.

  “Okay. Yeah. You’ll need to leave me with specific instructions—and I do mean specific, if there’s timing of medication involved, since I’ll need to be on top of that.”

  Okay? Yeah?

  Seriously?

  He was going to do it?

  “Fine,” she said, after a sip of beer meant to drown the joy coursing through her. “I’ll call Bethany at the animal rescue first thing in the morning, finalize arrangements and get back to you.”

  She needed to order dinner.

  And get Bethany on the phone. Why wait until morning?

  There were other things, too, like...getting a dog dish? And a bed?

  “I’m glad you called.” Greg’s words shocked all thought out of her brain.

  “Yeah, well, you know me, always begging for what I need for my dogs and vets...” She thanked him and hung up before she said something truly stupid. But mentally, she was doing a little dance of glee as she ordered a beef and cheese–laden enchilada for dinner, her future artery health be damned. Tonight, she was celebrating.

  Chapter Seven

  After a long day of board meetings for one of the nonprofits he managed—a national organization set up to match private pilots with service organizations, such as the Pilots for Paws program—Greg had stopped by his favorite gourmet sub shop to pick up dinner and had driven straight to the airstrip.

  He’d been sitting in his cockpit, enjoying the sandwich and scrolling on his phone, when Wendy had called. Eating something he particularly favored while looking over something pleasantly engrossing had been his plan to combat the panic that was threatening to ground him.

  He’d been sitting there with no preflight check and no logged flight, so no pressure to take her up. All purposeful steps in his self-imposed recovery program.

  He hadn’t thought to include a phone call in his regime, but as he hung up from speaking with Wendy, he definitely wasn’t experiencing any panic regarding the plane or the sky. He wasn’t even thinking about them.

  His chest was tight due to an entirely different stimulus—namely, the prospect of spending many hours, regularly, in her home.

  With the way she’d framed it, agreeing had been a no-brainer. She’d mentioned Duke and men like him benefiting. Greg had to do it.

  But he didn’t have to be feeling a lift in his mood over it.

  He didn’t have to be curious to be in her home again—to spend periods of time there.

  Didn’t have to be okay with seeing her again soon—and often.

  Where were his defenses when he needed them?

  Busy fighting off fake demons, that was where. He’d been told, many times, that the only thing he had to fear was fear itself...meaning that flying, the storm, a near crash weren’t keeping him from his first love.

  Fear was doing that.

  Not in that moment. He was good, sitting there with his phone and his picnic in the cockpit. Of course, he knew he wasn’t going to try to take the plane up.

  And his emotions were otherwise engaged. Lingering in a small home on the outskirts of Spring Forest, rather than in a storm. His mind, rather than replaying a near crash, was conjuring up images of low lights and soft conversation with a friend who was suddenly becoming a closer friend.

  But the landing, if he played out his mental scenario with Wendy, wouldn’t be any better than coming down in that deserted drive-in had been. And could be a whole lot worse.

  If he gave in to his urges to spend more time with Wendy, if he allowed himself to explore any possibilities...his own heart, his own life, wouldn’t be the only potential victim. When things couldn’t come to a natural conclusion, when he couldn’t offer Wendy any more than daytime and evening companionship, there’d be a crash. And there was no way he could take a chance on more, on sharing a life with her that included sleeping. He would not put her in that danger. Which meant he couldn’t let Wendy fall for him. Even a little bit.

  Still, while the day before, just being in the cockpit had brought on panic, there he was in his seat in front of the controls, calmly eating a sandwich.

  Which meant, by his calculation, he had a win! He’d successfully completed the first step of his program. Spending time in the cockpit without a panic attack. The next one, doing a preflight check without logging a flight, would happen...momentarily. As soon as he’d finished his dinner. And done some phone research on service dogs.

  And maybe, in the morning, he’d log a flight. Maybe even start the plane. Taxi in her.

  If all went well, he’d be flying again by the end of the weekend...

  And would be able to be of piloting service to Wendy again.

  While he couldn’t be her lover, he’d be back to being the friend who was there for her whenever she needed him. For flying. And now for the dog, as well.

  Hell, if all went well, he might just try to let himself need her friendship, too.

  * * *

  Wendy lived for pets. For the veterans that she served with her whole heart. For the townspeople who meant so much to her. She didn’t bring any of them into her home.

  And there she was, Friday noon, with an eleven-month-old German shepherd staring at her from the passenger seat of her SUV, on his way to move in with her.

  “I have to warn you, buddy, this is just temporary. I’m not your forever home. I’m in and out all the time, which is why I don’t adopt anyone. But I’ve made arrangements for you, don’t worry...”

  Jedidiah could leave the worrying up to her.

  She’d called Greg that morning, as soon as she’d confirmed through Bethany that the veterinarian had signed off on releasing Jedidiah to home care and she was welcome to come get him.

  Greg hadn’t picked up.

  Or called back.

  He was a busy man, she got that. And she had a case of the guilts over trying to get Jedidiah and Greg together—for both their sakes, not just the dog’s, as she’d claimed.

  Maybe it was wrong of her, not being completely honest with Greg, but...she’d rather have a dishonesty mark on her integrity than have another man die because she hadn’t been able to do enough.

  It wasn’t like she was forcing Greg to help her out. Or forcing him to take Jedidiah. She was just placing the two of them in proximity and then waiting to let nature take its course.

  And hoping.

  And if she was getting in too deep?

  If she got hurt in the process?

  She could handle it. Of that she was certain. She knew how to find her own happiness.

  Jedidiah nudged her elbow—looking for reassurance? He hadn’t left the shelter since he’d been rescued, receiving all veterinary care in-house.

  Reaching over to scratch behind the dog’s ear, she said, “It’s going to be good for you, Jedidiah, or I’ll take you right back.” The words were a promise. “You know me. You know you can trust me,” she continued. If he didn’t get the words, he’d get the tone of voice. “You’re going to meet Greg this afternoon, and he could be your forever love. Your forever family. I’m not promising that part, but I want you to know that that’s the plan for you. Forever love with a person you adore. And Greg...he’s one of the most decent human beings I’ve ever met.”

  The words flew out of her and stopped the path of her thoughts the second she heard them out loud.

  Instead of thinking about the dog’s future, she was thinking about the man she’d be introducing Jedidiah to. Greg had become a friend over the years. Someone who engaged in harmless flirting with her. Someone she could always count on. But there was more to what she felt for him than what she usually acknowledged.

  Greg really was one of the most decent human beings she’d ever met. The knowledge had grown on her over time without her even being aware...and yet, there it was.