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Mad Dog
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Mad Dog was in the war room with Church, reviewing some of the drafts he’d drawn up based on their planning meeting a few nights ago, when Cage sauntered in. He was holding a box and smiling as if he’d won the lottery or something.
“What do you have there?” Church asked.
“Special delivery for Mr. Sheppard.”
Mad Dog processed the words right about the same time the delicious aromas of garlic bread, tomato sauce, and seasoned meat reached his nose. His stomach rumbled. “Where did you get those?”
Cage’s grin grew. “Kate Handelmann.”
He felt a sudden rush of adrenaline. “Kate’s here?”
“Was. She’s gone now. Just dropped them off and left.”
Glancing toward the window, he saw that the snow was coming down even harder than it had been the last time he looked. “In this weather?”
“Guess she thought it was important.”
“You could have invited her in, asshat.”
“I did—once I knew who she was. She declined.” Cage set the box down on one of the worktables and then frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. “She seemed nervous. I think I might have scared her.”
Mad Dog glared at him. Kate hadn’t struck him as the type of woman who scared easily. “Why would you do that?”
Cage put both of his hands up in front of his chest. “Hey, I didn’t realize who she was until she asked for you.”
“What do I smell?” Doc asked, entering the room. “Did someone get takeout?”
Mad Dog grabbed the edge of the box and pulled it toward him before Doc could get his hands on it.
Cage was the one who answered, a little too gleefully in Mad Dog’s opinion, “Kate Handelmann just dropped off food for Mad Dog.”
“In this weather?”
“In this weather,” Cage confirmed.
Smoke entered with Sam right behind him. “I saw a blue Jeep on the security cameras. Who the hell is out driving tonight?”
“Kate Handelmann,” said Doc, taking up the thread.
“Kate?” Sam asked, surprised. “Why?”
“She brought food for Mad Dog.”
Sam lifted her nose and sniffed. “That’s right; the spaghetti dinner was tonight. I had seen signs for it plastered all over town this afternoon. They do it every year to raise money to purchase new equipment for the firehouse, and Kate always volunteers. I think a lot of people come just because they know she’s cooking. But why did she bring food all the way out here for you?”
All eyes turned his way. He didn’t like it.
“I bought a few tickets when I picked up the rock salt this morning.”
Heff, never one to miss an opportunity to bust some balls, snickered. “You did, huh?”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” he muttered.
“It was a good idea,” Sandy agreed, pushing past Smoke. “It demonstrates that you’re willing to support a good cause regardless of the fact that Jerry Petraski has been talking smack.”
Heff smirked. “Or that he’s trying to get into Kate Handelmann’s good graces and her ... other things.”
Mad Dog narrowed his eyes and shot him a warning glance, but the fucker just laughed, confident that he wouldn’t do anything in front of Sam and Sandy. That was all right. Sandy would stray off sooner or later.
“I think it’s sweet,” Sam said, “though she sure could have picked a better night for it.”
His thoughts exactly. While he was glad she’d made the effort, he hated that she’d put herself at risk. He also needed to know she was okay, preferably without a commentating audience.
He turned to Church, nodding toward the plans. “We’re done here, right?”
Their leader’s lips quirked. “Yeah, we’re done.”
“Good.” He lifted the box of food from the table and made for the door.
“Hey, Mad Dog, you’re going to share that, right?” Doc asked.
“No.”
He could hear them laughing behind him as he pulled on his winter gear. He didn’t care. Kate had brought the food for him, not them.
His concern increased as he made the trek back to his trailer in near-whiteout conditions. The wind had picked up, making it impossible to tell how much was new snow and how much was already-fallen stuff being tossed around by the gusts.
What the hell was she thinking, driving up here like that?
Once he got inside, he shucked his snow-covered coat, hat, and boots and then unpacked half a dozen takeout containers. Five, he put in the fridge. The other, he popped in the microwave. While waiting for it to heat up, he pulled out his phone and did a quick search. It didn’t take him long to find Kate’s cell number; it was right there on her Facebook page.
He tapped in the number and held his breath. It rang a few times before going to voice mail. “Hey, Kate. It’s Brian Sheppard. I just wanted to thank you for the food and to make sure you got back all right. Call or text when you get home, okay?”
The microwave dinged, signaling that the food was ready. It was a good thing, too. The delicious scents had filled the small space, making his mouth water. He put a second container in right away, knowing one wasn’t going to be enough.
Then, he sat down to eat and wait. Under good conditions, it took about half an hour to get down into town. He knew it was going to take a hell of a lot longer than that tonight.
An hour passed and then two. When three hours had gone by and there was still no word, he started suiting up with the intent of going out to find her. Best-case scenario, Kate had made it safely back to town and simply hadn’t returned his call. Worst case ... well, he didn’t want to think about that.
He was just on the way out the door when his phone lit up with Kate’s number. The sense of relief he felt as he accepted the call was overwhelming.
“Hey, did you make it home okay?”
“We did. Sorry. You must have called when I was in a dead zone, and it took us a lot longer than we’d planned to get home, but we’re fine.”
His gut clenched. Cage hadn’t mentioned anyone being with her. “We?”
“Duke came along for the ride. How did you get my number?”
The tightness eased, along with the realization that she might not appreciate his snooping. “Facebook. I hope you don’t mind. I just wanted to thank you for the dinners. You didn’t have to do that, especially on a night like this.”
“You’re welcome, and I don’t mind at all. As for the dinners, well, it was an impulsive decision on my part. I didn’t really think it through, and ... I’m sorry if I did something I shouldn’t have.”
“The only thing you shouldn’t have done was put yourself at risk.”
She was quiet for a moment, then said, “Are we talking about the weather or the fact that I showed up at Sanctuary, uninvited? Because I have to tell you, the dude with the hood was scarier than the snowstorm.”
“He was just being overly cautious,” Mad Dog said carefully. “We’ve had some incidents.”
“Yeah? How many of them have involved a woman and a dog driving up to the front door, armed with takeout?”
He chuckled after hearing the teasing lilt to her voice, pleased that she had a sense of humor about the whole thing. “Not many.”
“I thought not.” She yawned audibly and then apologized for it. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long night.”
He would like to talk with her longer but couldn’t be selfish. “I understand. You should get some rest.”
“Okay.”
“Uh, Kate?”
“Yes?”
“Would you ... like to have coffee with me sometime?”
Once again, he held his breath, each second feeling much longer than it was.
“I’d like that,” she said softly. “But our only decent coffeehouse burned down last year. How about we make it dinner instead?”
Doing a mental fist pump, he said, “Even better. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay. Good night ... uh, what should I call you? Brian? Mad Dog? Please don’t say Mad Dog. It just doesn’t feel right—at least, not yet. Maybe when I get to know you better ... assuming I do get to know you better. And ... I’m babbling. I’m sorry.”
She was adorable.
“How about Chris?”
“I thought your name was Brian? Resorting to aliases now, Mr. Sheppard?”
“Not at all. Brian is my given name, but I was named after my father, so most people called me by my middle name, Christopher, to avoid confusion.”
He didn’t know why he’d told her that. No one had called him Chris in a very long time.
“I like it. It suits you. I don’t have to tell you my middle name now, do I? Because it’s a lot more embarrassing than yours.”
Christ, he liked this woman.
“Only if you want to.”
“Hmm. We’ll work up to that, okay?”
“Okay.” He was smiling like an idiot. “Good night, Kate.”
“Good night, Chris.”