Hole Card
Always name your rifle. ~From the Deployment Survival Journal of Pete “Rabbit” Kincaid
Lin found her son sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle of his favorite soda. He didn’t look up when she entered, just sat drawing one finger through the beads of sweat on the green plastic.
“Hey,” she murmured, sinking into the seat at a right angle to his. “Want to talk?”
Saying nothing, Nate shifted and looked at the wall, presenting her with his back and left shoulder.
“I guess that’s a no.” Her hand ached to touch him on that stoic shoulder, but she knew better — he’d only shut down even further. “Okay, how about you listen?”
The presenting shoulder lifted then fell in a half-hearted shrug. Well, at least he was hearing her.
“Pete — Rabbit… you know he’s been in battle a lot, right?”
More shoulder movement.
“His meeting today…” She paused, frowning. What could she tell her son? It was logical to assume Peter’s meeting had gone awry, but since he hadn't said anything directly, it felt like she was repeating gossip.
Nate stopped drawing lines on his soda bottle and simply wrapped both hands around it, lacing his fingers together.
Lin sighed. He deserved some explanation. “I don’t think his meeting today went the way he was hoping. I think he may have gotten bad news.”
The shoulder slumped as though Nate was deflating emotionally.
“Nathan…” Lin curled her fingers against her palms, willing herself to stay out of his space. “Why didn’t you tell me it was you who wrecked the work area out there?”
His chin dropped to his chest, and he shook his head.
“Did Pete— Rabbit say something to you? Snap at you or something?” She blew out a long breath, frustrated that she could find no magic words to reach her own child and make everything okay again.
“I was ready to put the patch on the kayak. I wanted him to see what I did.” Nate spoke in a voice so low, she nearly missed the words. “But he just said, ‘not now, kid,’ and walked away.”
Lin held her tongue. Nathan’s approval-seeking strikes again. She rolled her lips inward so she wouldn’t open her mouth and stick her foot in it. Her son’s need for endorsement had started when she and Jeff had begun having problems. Nate had somehow felt responsible for their fights and had often put himself in the middle with a lot of “look what I did” statements.
“Well, now you know that he was having a bad day, right? He’s never been short with you before, has he? And sometimes people crack under—” Her lips tingled and a warm flush spread through her entire body. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing Nate was still looking away. “Sometimes pressure makes people say or do something they wouldn’t ordinarily… um, do.” Like dropping a uniform shirt in the dirt… or grabbing someone and kissing her senseless. The warmth blossomed into searing heat, and she scrubbed at her face.
“Cammie’s gone.” Nate straightened in his seat, but he kept his eyes averted. Abruptly, he grabbed his soda and twisted the cap. “She wouldn’t come in the house so I tied her outside.” He took a drink and then turned his pale gaze on Lin. “I left her a bowl of water. I didn’t just tie her in the sun.”
“Gone?” Lin frowned and shook her head as she tried to make sense of the turn the conversation had just taken. “Like she ran off? We can go look for her.”
“No, gone. Taken. He took her.”
Dread chilled her blood. “He? You mean Trev—?”
“Peter.” Nate spat the name like it carried a bad taste. Nor was it lost on Lin that he didn’t use the man’s nickname.
“Pete took his dog?” Confusion replaced her alarm and she drew in a deep breath. “I don’t understand. Why is it bad he took his dog?”
“To the pound!” Nate shoved away from the table and stood. The chair rocked back on two legs then slammed back onto all four as he stomped to the counter and snatched up a notepad. Hurt reflected in his eyes when he returned to the table and tossed the pad toward her.
It spun across the table, stopping in front of her. Lin turned it so she could read what was written. Bold blue printing flowed over the page, the lines straight, the letters perfectly formed, almost boxlike. She read the words out loud. “Took the dog to the shelter. Will be back later. –P”
“See?” Emotion choked Nate’s voice. “Mom, I didn’t mean to leave her tied out there. She wouldn’t come in, and I fell asleep.”
A sigh escaped as Lin fought tears of her own. “Honey, I’m sure it wasn’t because you tied her up. Remember, the plan was always to take her to the shelter.” She swallowed and took another deep breath. “She might be someone’s dog. Maybe they’re looking for her.”
His dark look suggested Nathan saw her reasoning as a betrayal. “She was tied in a storm drain. Nobody wanted her.”
“She might have been stolen,” Lin felt compelled to point out. Just shut up and stop trying to make sense of the senseless! But she didn’t seem able to follow her own advice. “We really don’t know how she came to be there.”
Nathan seized his soda bottle and stalked to the back door. “I’m going to clean up out back.” Before he could open it, the door pushed inward and Bella bounced through.
Which meant Trish wasn’t far behind with the little ones.
“Hi — Nate.” Bella beamed up at him. “Will you look — at my beach — collection with — me?”
Lin held her breath.
He smiled and ruffled the little girl’s hair. “I have to clean up the yard. But I can look after dinner.”
And Lin let the breath out again as he stepped around Bella and disappeared through the door.
“We’re here,” announced Trish unnecessarily, entering the kitchen with Greg under one arm and JR clutching her other hand. She laughed as she set her son down. “Mister Gregory had a little problem deciding to come inside.”
Lin waited until Bella had hung up her sweater and skipped out of the kitchen before holding out the note. “Peter took the dog to the shelter.”
“What a shame.” With a heavy sigh, Trish’s steadfast disposition seemed to crumple just a bit. Disappointment reflected in her compressed lips as she shook her head. “Those two need each other.”
At a tug on her shirt, Lin looked down. JR sent her a sly grin and pointed to the door. “Na… Ou…?”
“Yes, Nate’s outside.” She stooped and picked up the baby, suddenly realizing both her children needed her. Or maybe more important, in that moment, she needed both of them.
* * * *
Braking, Rabbit cringed at the whining of his tires on the causeway pavement. For some reason the high-pitched scream got under his skin and stayed there every time he hit that stretch of the drive home. For some reason, though, some days were worse than others. Currently, dread that had nothing to do with the road sound coiled in his gut, a cold knot of tension waiting for him to lighten his guard so it could spring free. He’d screwed up. No matter how bad his day had gone, he shouldn’t have blown off the kid. The boy had a crapload of something going on under that chill façade he presented for the world. Rabbit had recognized that from the start, and the angry and destructive outburst had only confirmed his suspicions.
It wouldn’t be possible to make up for his callous attitude from earlier, but maybe his surprise would help reopen the door — or maybe open a new door. Rabbit would take whatever Nate offered. He glanced over his shoulder at the bags and boxes occupying his back seat. Everything the well-appointed kayaker could need or want. Everything but the kayak. He’d looked at a couple of new ones in the showroom, but instinct told him it was critical to stay the course and finish restoring the one he and the kid had found.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he left the causeway behind, then cursed and hit the brakes when he found himself riding up the six of a dawdling SUV. Late afternoon sun lent the charcoal paint a smoky, almost transparent ethereal quality. Had it not been for a bright flash off the roof rack as the vehicle hit a bump, he might have ended up ramming the guy.
The SUV sped up, but Rabbit hung back, acutely aware that the hair on the back of his neck had just snapped to attention. Something was off… something… something.
The dark vehicle ahead slowed again then increased its speed, slowed…
Son of a biscuit! He was pausing at every driveway. Why? Memories of news stories about missing children surfaced, and visions of pedophiles trolling for victims jumped into his mind. He took his foot off the accelerator and followed, contemplating his next move. It seemed stupid and maybe a little paranoid to call the police and report a suspicious vehicle.
An arm appeared from the driver’s window of the smoky SUV and motioned for him to go around. Gritting his teeth, Rabbit lowered his passenger side window and pulled alongside the vehicle crowding it toward the side of the road until he wondered if the guy would stop or let himself be pushed into the ditch. Finally, he stopped.
A navy cap pulled low over the driver’s forehead shadowed his eyes, but a few wisps of nearly black hair poked out at the sides. Rabbit placed him in his early thirties — give or take a couple of years. A square chin and prominent jaw outlined his face, and for a split second, his lips compressed, but then he offered an amiable smile.
“Afternoon!” greeted Rabbit with an easy — and completely false — grin. “Are you having car trouble? Something I can help you with?”
“Oh… no. Sorry… I was…” The stranger peered into Rabbit’s car and his smile widened. “…looking for my wife’s lost dog.”
Rabbit’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel as he affected an exaggerated wince. “Oh, man, bad luck.” He eased his hand off the wheel and scratched his chin in a deliberately contemplative gesture. “Seems like I’ve seen a few dogs running loose around here lately. What’s he look like?”
The other man blinked once. Twice. “Oh, ah… a white dog. Um, fuzzy, kind of small.”
Rabbit angled his head thoughtfully and used the movement to scope what he could see of the SUV’s interior, which wasn’t much given its profile was so much higher than his Camaro. No passengers, though. An open bag of chips on the dash. And the sun had glared off the license plate but it hadn’t been from North Carolina.
“Do you live around here? If I find her, I can get in touch.”
“Oh, ah… yeah. Just the other side of the ah… the bridge.” The man shook his head.
Another lie, unless he’d recently moved there. Locals would never refer to the causeway as the bridge — since it wasn’t one. Rabbit huffed out a breath. He could hardly jump from his car, haul the lying jerk from behind the wheel and beat the crap out of him until he spilled his guts.
“Well, good luck. I’ll keep my eyes out.” He began to raise his window, paused as if he’d had an afterthought. “Hey, ah, what’s the dog’s name? In case I see him.”
“Ah… ah, Spot. Spotty. He has a black spot over one eye.” The man grinned and raised his window, ending the conversation.
But it didn’t matter. Rabbit had all he needed. He’d let Dan and Trish know, see how they wanted to handle it. As he pulled away, he glanced in the rearview, sighing in frustration when he saw no front plate on the SUV. Blasted glaring sun had kept him from getting the tag number when he’d been behind the guy, and he had no excuse to get behind him again.
As he turned onto Main Street, the pack of candy he’d picked up at the checkout counter slid across his dash and he grabbed it before it fell off. As he peeled back the outer layer, he checked out the top candy.
Orange. That figured. With one hand on the wheel, he worked the candy out of the package, taking care not to touch it. “Sorry, kid,” he mumbled as he flicked it out the window.
Slowing, he spun the steering wheel and hit the alley behind Montgomery House with a soft crunch of gravel. A smile slid over his face at the sight of Nate playing with JR and a beach ball. As he pulled into his normal parking place, he spotted Lin, sitting cross-legged on the ground behind JR.
She threw her head back and cut loose with a hearty laugh when the toddler pounced on the ball and ended up kicking it instead. Colors twirled and blurred as the ball sailed through the air toward Nate. Wearing a big grin, he bounced the ball off his forehead and sent it back to his baby sister.
Lin… Rabbit’s entire body tightened, half in remorse for his treatment of her, half in anticipation of just being near her again.
And then she looked up and their gazes collided with the force of two freight trains at a hundred miles per hour. Thoughts barrelled through his head, tumbling over one another.
I shouldn’t have touched her, shouldn’t have taken out my frustration on her.
I should look away.
I owe her an explanation… and a huge apology.
Look away, jerk!
I… can’t.
She smiled. A little wary, but it was a smile. Time slowed, stretched, as his vision narrowed to a tunneled focus.
I can’t… and don’t want to.
* * * *
As the silver car swept into its normal parking spot, Lin stiffened. Part of her had been awaiting Peter’s return. And now that he had… her heart wanted to jackhammer its way out of her chest. He opened his car door and stood, never breaking contact with her gaze. Electricity flowed between them like lightning in the clouds. Breathless, unable to remove her eyes from his intense stare, Lin pushed to her feet. Sheer effort of will propelled her rubber band legs to take a step forward… then another.
A dark blob erupted from the car behind him and streaked across the yard toward Nathan.
“Cammie?” Lin stared at the dog romping around her son’s legs. Shaking her head, she turned her confusion toward Pete. “I don’t understand. I thought— Your note— Didn’t you take her to the shelter?”
“Yep, I took her.” Pete’s lips twisted into a wry smile and he shrugged before sliding a glance toward his car. “She didn’t want to stay.”
Lin followed his look and her lips twitched as she fought a smile. The back seat of his car had been packed with a mass of items, and jammed against the window was a fuzzy plush dog bed in pink. “Did you leave anything in the store?”
“It’s not all for the dog,” he muttered, dragging one toe in the dirt. Did he have a clue how like Nate he was sometimes? “And it was on sale.”
“Nate,” called Lin, finally giving up and allowing the smile to form. “I think Peter needs help unloading Cammie’s things from the car.”
Grabbing his sister’s hand on the way, Nathan started across the yard toward them. “Wait,” he ordered Cammie, pointing at the ground. Then he pitched an orange tennis ball into the yard.
The dog tensed but didn’t more.
“Get it!” Nate pointed toward the ball, and the dog took off. When she scooped it into her mouth, he called out, “Bring it!”
Like a bee homing in on its hive, Cammie trotted back with the ball in her mouth.
“When did you teach her that?” And where had he gotten the tennis ball?
A big grin took control of Nate’s mouth, and he shook his head. “I didn’t teach her. She just knows it. She showed me earlier when you—” Lifting one shoulder, he lowered his voice. “When you were on the beach. I found the ball in the garden and threw it, and she kept bringing it back.”
Cammie sat in front of Nate and lifted her face, the ball still clutched between her teeth. Something flashed at her neck, and Lin angled her head for a better look. A pink tag in the shape of a bone had the name Cammie printed across it along with a telephone number. Behind it, an octagon tag in electric blue bore official-appearing letters and numbers.
“She has tags,” murmured Lin, blinking back tears. “You got her licensed.”
“I got her shots.” Peter didn’t quite meet her eyes. “And I might have gotten her microchipped… you know… just in case.”
“You’re keeping her?” asked Nate softly.
Pete clapped a shoulder on Nathan’s shoulder. “Her picture is on a found dog report at the shelter in case someone comes looking.” He shrugged again. “I had to do that — it’s the law. But no one’s reported her missing so far. And she didn’t want to stay there,” he finished in a strangled voice. Without warning, he bent and scooped up the toddler standing in front of him, planting his mouth against her cheek and blowing raspberries.
JR chortled and flung her arms around Peter’s neck.
It was a heart-stopping moment. In fact, Lin’s heart stalled for the space of a couple of beats before taking off in a rapid staccato rhythm. It would be so easy — too easy — to pretend they were a family.
Nathan wandered over to the car and peered inside. “Sweet!” He began hopping with excitement. “Kayak gear!”
A sense of insects crawling tickled Lin’s arms. She crossed her arms over her stomach and tried to rub it away, but the feeling persisted.
“Mama!” cried JR, leaning toward her.
The uneasiness would have to wait. Forcing the smile that only minutes before had been easy, Lin reached for her daughter.