July 8, 1943
Lainie floated into the war dog office, a basket of Esther’s muffins tucked under her arm. “Get them while they’re hot, girls.”
She watched the girls enjoy the muffins and knew the day would be wonderful. Her lips still tingled from Tom’s kiss, and she didn’t think she’d ever forget the feeling of being gathered so safely under his arm or hearing his words. While not a firm confession of love, they matched her feelings. This might be love. But they needed time to explore it.
The morning flew by as she prepared honorable discharge papers for dogs who had failed some aspect of basic training. Not every dog sent to the fort met the Army’s requirements. Some were too short, others too aggressive, and still others too distracted by chasing anything that moved. Why couldn’t wonderful Mason be any of those things? Of course she would take to the instruction like a prairie dog to the hills. It was decidedly unfair.
Lainie shook her head and forced her thoughts back to Tom. Time to think about better things. “You look far away.” Mary leaned over the typewriter to see the stack of papers. “I know it’s not the paperwork. Not with that smile.”
“You’re right. It’s good to be back.”
Mary chuckled. “Sure it is, honey. Don’t worry. I have a feeling your soldier will be by soon. That man lights up around you.”
“Let’s just say last night was wonderful, and I hope he does come by soon. I already miss him.”
“I think that qualifies for over the moon.”
Kitty snorted. “Sappy’s what I’d call it.”
Lainie made a face and stuck out her tongue at the girl. Then she turned back to her typing and tuned out the girls’ conversations. Not hard to do when her thoughts kept returning to a rock under the clear night sky.
Tom watched another group of men parade their dogs through close-order drills. The men and dogs heeled like well-oiled machines. The dogs kept an eye cocked on their masters and followed the silent hand signals without a hitch. Time for the next challenge.
“All right, men. Close ranks for a minute.”
The groups shuffled into position, forming straight rows. One dog growled in the back of its throat, and Tom searched the lines until he saw the animal. Brutus had an attitude problem that kept him in the program—barely. And only because Sergeant Prescott had firm control of the animal.
Prescott looked at him and nodded. “I’ve got him, sir.”
Tom watched the dog another moment. Brutus’s ears remained swiveled to the side, but his hackles had begun to settle. Satisfied, Tom did a quick inspection of the teams. Mason sat two dogs down from Brutus. Despite Lainie’s concerns, Mason thrived in the Army. She’d picked up each new command quickly and showed an intelligence that would make her an asset wherever she served. She’d been paired with an Army Air Forces serviceman, so her destination was unsure.
“Since you’ve mastered the on-leash drills, we’ll move to off-leash exercises. When I command, spread out and then release your dogs. Make them remain at your side. Then we’ll run through some familiar commands to see how they do without the leash encouraging obedience. If all goes well, we’ll reward them with a round of the obstacle course.”
A cheer rose from the Marines. Leave it to Marines to love the idea of crawling through mud, leaping over obstacles, and running until you can’t see through the sweat. From the odor blowing his way, it smelled like many of them had already run several miles.
“Separate.” Tom waited until the men had spread out with enough space to keep each dog focused on its master. “Unleash your dogs and review sit, stay, and down with them.”
He walked among the rows, checking for any signs that a dog had readied to bolt. The last thing they needed this week was another dog or two going AWOL. The last one had finally been roped down by a former rodeo star who now served with the Veterinary Corps. And that was only after several men on horseback had chased the dog all over the parade grounds and other side of the highway.
A deep, grumbly growl pulled Tom’s attention back to Brutus. Brutus looked ready to attack. His ears were pinned against his head, his teeth bared, and he’d crouched. “Prescott, grab him.” Tom barked the order and prayed.
Another growl rumbled, this one louder. The dog looked coiled to spring.
“Prescott!” Tom rubbed his scar. Nothing would happen to Prescott on his watch.
The man stood as if paralyzed, staring at his dog. Tom caught movement to Prescott’s right and watched it out of the corner of his eye as he marched toward Prescott. Teams around the two put distance between them, all except for Mason and her owner. Tom grimaced. Airman Rush and Prescott had developed a friendship, and it looked like Rush wanted to intervene.
“Back away, Rush.”
The man ignored him, easing toward Prescott. “Come on, buddy. Snap out of it. You’ve got to move. Now.”
Prescott shuddered. Brutus followed his movements, then looked at Rush and Mason. Mason, still off-leash, followed Rush. The dog was too well-trained and obedient for her own safety. Brutus launched at Mason and wrestled her to the ground, teeth sunk into her neck.
“No! Rush, go get a tech. Now.” Tom screamed the word and raced toward the two. How could he disable Brutus long enough to pull him away without shooting? Mason fought back, but her size was no match for Brutus. Tom froze, watching them war, flashes of a former dog fight blazing across his mind. He rubbed his scar again, then forced himself forward. Mason didn’t deserve this mauling. He pulled his sidearm out of its holster and aimed.
A soft whistle whizzed past his ear and then a tranquilizer dart sank into Brutus’s flank. His actions slowed, then he collapsed on top of Mason. Tom tore his eyes from the mess of dogs to the vet tech who raced up.
“Took you long enough to get here.”
“I’m here now. Let’s get these two separated and to the hospital stat. We may be able to save the black one.”
Two more vet techs raced up in a Jeep. It took them several minutes to pry Brutus off of Mason and get her loaded. Rush and Prescott boarded the Jeep with their dogs and disappeared down the hill toward the vet hospital.
Tom rubbed his hand over his face. What was he going to tell Lainie? This was exactly what she’d feared since the moment Mason arrived. He didn’t think he could tell her but knew he couldn’t let her find out from somebody else.
He turned back to the remaining teams. The men waited, their dogs lounging at their sides. “Run through the obstacle course a couple of times. Nobody’s hiding along the course, so focus on clearing the barriers.” He followed the Jeep. The men would have to follow instructions without a babysitter.
When he reached the hospital a few minutes later, the techs had already whisked Mason away. All he could learn was she still lived. For right now that would have to be enough.
He stepped outside and took several deep breaths, trying to clear the heavy antiseptic smell from his lungs. He looked across the road. Less than a hundred feet separated him from Lainie. He had to tell her. Now. Even though he wanted to deliver any message but this one.
“Hey, Lainie. Look who’s here.” Kitty’s voice pulled Lainie’s attention from the file in front of her.
Lainie’s heart skipped to a faster tempo. A smile curved her lips. “Hi, Tom.”
He pulled his hat off and twisted it in his hands. He shuffled from side to side, and a bad feeling spread through Lainie.
“What is it?”
He just looked at her, emotions warring across his face. First a flash of concern. Then a tightening around his eyes and jaw. Followed by a visible effort to relax.
“Spit it out.” She looked at her hands, surprised to see them trembling.
“Could you come outside for a moment?” He swallowed, then looked into her, through her. “Please, Lainie.”
She glanced around the room, and Mary nodded, so she slipped from behind the desk and walked through the door Tom held for her. She wrapped her arms around herself and turned on him. “What happened? You’re scaring me to death. Did you change your mind about last night?”
Relief lit up his face. “No, nothing like that. Last night was wonderful. It’s about Mason.” He spoke the last sentence so softly Lainie leaned toward him to catch the words.
“Did you say Mason?”
Tom nodded. Before he could say anything else, Lainie dashed in front of a truck and across the street. The driver honked his horn, but she kept running. She stumbled up the few steps to the door and pulled it open. “Please, God.”
Tears tumbled down her cheeks as she whispered the words. Nothing could have happened to Mason. Not the sweet, obedient dog. She’d never done anything really wrong in her life other than chewing one of Mama’s tables in a fit of boredom. But that was years ago now.
“I knew this would happen.”
A man sat behind a desk in front of her. She skirted around it, but he stood to block her way. “Miss, you can’t go back there.”
Lainie pounded against his chest. “My dog is in there. I have to see her.”
“You can’t go back there.” His gaze softened. “Take the chair over there, and I’ll let you know when we know something. Which dog is yours?”
Which? More than one was hurt?
Her heart lurched.
Her handed fluttered to grasp her collar.
Her eyes smarted, and she covered her mouth.
She had to get Mason out of here.