Abbey Harris climbed the stairs to the third floor at Cimarron City Hospital with Gabe, her black Lab, on a leash next to her. This was the only exercise she got all day. She worked long hours as a medical social worker at the hospital as well as volunteering to bring her dogs to see patients here to make them feel better.
At the door to the third floor, Abbey knelt and rubbed her Lab behind his ears. “Gabe, we’ve got a little girl who needs your love and care. Are you ready?”
He nudged her with his head, and she hugged him before standing and opening the door. The antiseptic smell and brightness from the fluorescent lights hit her as she stepped out onto the busy surgery floor in the middle of the day. A patient with a portable IV was strolling the hall, and she paused to let him pass.
When Abbey stopped at the nurse’s station to check in with the head nurse on the floor, Gabe sat beside her. “Hi, Caron. I got your call about a patient you think Gabe can help.”
Dressed in blue scrubs, Caron Wyatt looked up from reading a chart and smiled, her brown eyes twinkling. “I’m so glad you and Gabe are here. If anyone can help, it’ll be you and your dog. I’ve seen what you’ve done with other children on this floor.”
“Which girl is it?”
“Madison Winters. She lost both her parents in a plane crash six months ago.”
“I remember hearing about that. Greg and Susie Winters. What an awful story.” Abbey patted the top of Gabe’s head. She knew what it was like to lose someone close. She’d always miss her daughter, Lisa.
“Madison has come in for yet another operation. Hopefully it’ll be her last one, and she’ll be able to walk after it. That is, with physical therapy.”
“Has she spent a lot of time in the hospital?”
Caron nodded, smoothing her short auburn hair back from her face. “Over the past few months I’ve seen the child grow more depressed, which really concerns me. You know how important a patient’s attitude is to the recovery process.”
“That’s why I started bringing Gabe and my other dogs here to visit. It goes hand in hand with my job.”
“I’m hoping he’ll work his wonders with this little girl.”
“Which room?”
“Three forty-five.”
“How old is Madison?”
“Eight.”
Abbey’s breath caught for a moment before she released it. Her daughter, Lisa, would have been eight if she had lived. If only she hadn’t died from leukemia... She couldn’t go there now, not when someone needed to be cheered up. “We’ll try our best.”
When Abbey arrived at room 345, she stood in the doorway to the little girl’s hospital room, decorated in pink with purple accents and Disney characters painted on the walls. It was bright. Cheerful. Yet Madison sat in a wheelchair staring out the window with the saddest expression on her face.
Abbey tried to contain her emotions at the sight. She racked her brain, trying to recall what the reporter had said about the child and her situation. She had been the only survivor in the plane crash that killed her parents. Her half brother, Dominic Winters, had returned to Cimarron City to be with his little sister. Was he still here? Or was someone else looking after Madison?
Gabe nudged Abbey’s hand as though he knew instinctively he could help the child. If any animal could comfort and cheer up Madison, her black Lab would.
Abbey took a deep, fortifying breath, then plastered a smile on her face and entered the hospital room. “Gabe, look who I found. Madison.”
On cue, Gabe barked.
The girl glanced toward Abbey and her dog as they crossed the distance between them. The child’s blue eyes grew round. “You were looking for me?” she murmured, her attention fixed on Gabe.
He stopped at the side of the wheelchair and sat, looking up at Madison. She was a fragile-looking child, with short brown hair and long dark lashes. For a few seconds she just stared at him.
“You can pet him. He loves kids.”
“How did you get a dog in here?” Madison asked as she laid her hand on the top of Gabe’s head. Tentative at first, she then began scratching him behind the ears.
“That’s one of his favorite places to be rubbed. I’m Abbey, and he’s Gabe.” Abbey squatted down next to her dog. “I’ve been bringing him to visit different people in this hospital for a while now. I work here, and friends of mine let me know when there’s someone special he should meet. One of them thought you might enjoy getting to know Gabe.”
“Who?”
“Nurse Caron.”
“She didn’t say anything to me.” Madison leaned more toward them, now using both hands to pet Gabe when he put his head on the arm of the chair.
“I told her I wanted to surprise you.”
Madison grinned. “You did. I used to have a dog. A small one.”
Abbey’s heart swelled, thinking about what the little girl had gone through in the past few months. A picture of her late daughter hovered in her mind. She couldn’t go there, or she wouldn’t be able to cheer up Madison. She forced a light tone to her voice. “I have several dogs.”
“You do? Are they like Gabe?”
“No, the others are smaller, what I would call lapdogs.”
“Like Zoe was.”
“Was she your dog?”
Madison nodded, tears welling in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
Wet tracks coursed down the little girl’s cheeks. “She was in the plane with me when it crashed. I tried holding on to her, but...” The last of the sentence ended on a sob.
Abbey ached at the sight of the child’s tears for her dog. That piece of information hadn’t been in the news reports she’d heard. She opened her mouth to say something comforting but a booming voice stopped her.
“What’s going on in here?”
Abbey shot to her feet and whirled around to face a man over six feet tall with the same crystalline blue eyes and long black eyelashes as Madison. “I’m Abbey Harris, a social worker with the hospital. I bring Gabe here to see different patients. A nurse on the floor thought that Madison would enjoy meeting him.”
As though she’d given him too much information to process, he stared at her with a blank expression for a few long seconds before turning his attention to Madison. “You’re crying, Madi. What’s wrong?” His voice softened as his intense gaze did.
The child swiped her hands across her cheeks. “Nothing. Gabe is a wonderful dog, Dominic.”
So this was Dominic Winters, Madi’s older brother. For a moment she thought of her ex-husband, who couldn’t deal with his own child when she had been so sick. How very different these two men were.
He knelt by the wheelchair and held his hand out for Gabe to sniff. “I’m sure he is. I used to have a golden retriever when I was a boy.”
Dominic Winters’s commanding presence filled the room. He exuded power. Abbey couldn’t imagine him as a child. Maybe because of all the stories she’d heard about him.
“Madison, I need to talk to Gabe’s owner for a few minutes, then you’ll be going down for some last-minute tests. Okay?”
“Can Gabe stay while you two talk?”
Dominic finally looked back at Abbey. “That’s your call.”
“He’d love to. You can have him do some tricks while I’m gone. Roll over. Sit. Shake hands. He loves to perform. I think he’s a clown at heart,” Abbey said, giving the young girl a wink right before she followed Dominic from the room.
The second she stepped outside into the hallway, she knew this wouldn’t be a friendly little chat. He frowned as he moved a few feet from the doorway.
“What did you say to Madison to make her cry?” Though whispered, his question was full of forceful steel. His taller frame towered over her smaller one.
Abbey straightened, throwing her shoulders back. She had done nothing wrong. “We were talking about the dogs I have. She asked me if Gabe was the only one. I told her I also had two small ones. She mentioned she’d had a small dog. She didn’t exactly say it, but I assumed Zoe died in the plane crash.”
Dominic’s jaw visibly tightened. “I see,” he said between clenched teeth, peering down the brightly colored corridor as a myriad of emotions—first sadness, then anger, then something she couldn’t read—flittered across his face. “She’s gone through so much lately.” His murmured words, spoken so low Abbey barely heard him, held none of the forceful steel now.
In that moment Abbey realized Dominic Winters was hurting as much as his younger sister. “I understand she’ll have surgery tomorrow.”
“Yes. It’ll be her most difficult one to date, but I hope her last.”
“I’d love to bring Gabe to see her during her recovery. He’s helped a lot of patients, especially some who have been fighting pain and...” She held her tongue. It was only a guess from what she’d seen before going into the room.
“And what?”
Abbey doubted she would be telling him anything he didn’t already know. “Before I came in, she looked so lost and sad. I know that depression can be an issue with people who are dealing with the kinds of injuries she has, not to mention the loss of her parents.”
“Well, I don’t think it would be a good idea to have Gabe visit her. I don’t need her upset by anything. She’s been dealing with so much.”
“But—”
He started for his little sister’s room. “Thank you for your concern, but we’ll be fine.”
The controlled politeness in his words, his stiff bearing, shouted the opposite. She hurried after him to retrieve Gabe, deciding that the man hadn’t said anything specific about her not coming to see Madison. Remembering the loneliness she’d glimpsed in the child’s eyes only strengthened her plan to help her as much as she could.
Good thing she worked at the hospital as a medical social worker. Dealing with families of patients was part of her job. Although bringing her dogs to the hospital wasn’t technically part of her work, it helped when interacting with the patients and their families. As a child she’d learned the power of animals to help others when she’d assisted her father at his veterinary hospital.
Abbey spied her black Lab with his head lying in the girl’s lap while she stroked him over and over. “I’m sorry, Madison, but Gabe has to leave. There are some other patients expecting to see him, too.”
The child looked up at Abbey, that sadness dulling the color of her eyes. “Can’t he stay a little longer?”
Abbey tossed a glance at Dominic. “I believe you have some tests to do before your surgery. That’s very important. You can’t miss them.”
Madison pouted. “The last two operations haven’t helped. I don’t know why I’m having another one. They don’t even know if I’ll walk again,” she said in a fierce voice, then dropped her head, staring at Gabe, who scooted closer to her as though he sensed her emotional pain and wanted to help ease it.
Just like Gabe had done with Lisa. The memory intruded into her thoughts. She shoved it away again, the pain still raw.
“The doctor says you have a good chance of recovering the full use of your legs, Madi. It’ll take lots of work and physical therapy, but I’ll help you as much as I can.”
The child leaned down and kissed the top of Gabe’s head. “See you later, Gabe, then you can show me your tricks,” she whispered in a thick tone.
The defeat in Madison’s voice tore at Abbey. She peered at Dominic. His sharp gaze broadcasted that she needed to leave. As she called Gabe to come with her, she turned away, but not before she saw the man’s grief. His eyes connected with hers, and he quickly veiled his expression.
“I’ll be praying for you, Madison.” Abbey rushed from the room, knowing she’d probably overstepped her boundaries. That wasn’t wise considering Dominic Winters had the kind of power and money to make her life difficult.
At the nurse’s station, Abbey stopped to see her friend. “Caron, thanks for the heads-up about Madison. Gabe and she hit it off right away, as you thought they would.”
“When does Gabe not do that? Even Mr. Johnson couldn’t resist your dog’s charm, and my nurses have never dealt with someone so grumpy. But Gabe got him to smile. I didn’t think the man had it in him.”
“You’re exaggerating. Mr. Johnson has been in a lot of pain, but I think his meds are finally helping.”
“Nope, it was definitely Gabe. Are you working tomorrow?”
Abbey nodded, her gaze straying back toward Madison’s room. Dominic Winters, with a nurse’s aide, wheeled his sister out into the hall and headed for the elevator. For just a few seconds his eyes captured hers, but he quickly averted them and bent down to say something to his sister.
“Yes. I’ll be around. I want to make sure Madison’s surgery goes all right. Mr. Winters may need my services.”
One of Caron’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t see him needing anyone’s services. Every time I’ve dealt with him, he knew exactly what he wanted.”
That wasn’t the man she’d gotten a brief glimpse of, but she could have been reading more into their encounter. “Maybe. He’s probably anxious about Madison having another operation. Does that make three now in six months?”
“Yes. She had multiple fractures to both legs—a lot of damage to repair.”
Abbey inwardly sighed. Her daughter, Lisa, had come to hate going to the hospital those last few months of her life. “I’d better go. Mr. Johnson is expecting Gabe.”
“And we wouldn’t want him to get upset,” Caron said with a long sigh.
“No, we wouldn’t.”
Holding Gabe’s leash, Abbey headed for the other side of the third floor, where the eighty-year-old man’s room was located. The closer they got, the more Gabe pulled on the strap. The second she hit the doorway she unclipped Gabe, and he padded toward Mr. Johnson, his tail wagging frantically. The frail, hunched-over man sat in his wheelchair, his head down as though he had fallen asleep seated in front of the window. Tufts of gray hair lay at odd angles as though he hadn’t combed it since he got up.
Gabe nudged Mr. Johnson’s hand. He straightened, a grin spreading across his wrinkled face, an ashen cast to it. “It’s about time you got here, boy. I expected you fifteen minutes ago.” Mr. Johnson shot her a censuring look.
“Sorry about that. We paid another patient a visit before we came here.”
“Are you going to come see me at the nursing home once I’m transferred?” His gruff voice wavered.
“Of course we are. I thought others at the place would enjoy meeting Gabe, too.”
“Sure. Sure. So long as you come.” Gabe perched his front legs on the arm of the wheelchair while Mr. Johnson rubbed him. “If I have to be in prison, I need something to look forward to.”
“You can count on us. I talked to the Shady Oaks Nursing Home this morning. Everything will be ready.” Another one of her duties at the hospital was often making arrangements for patients who were leaving for some kind of long-term care.
Mr. Johnson snorted. “That’ll make my son happy. He won’t have to deal with me.”
“Now, Mr. Johnson, you know he cares about you. He comes to see you every night.”
Another snort preceded a series of coughs. Tears crowded the old man’s gray eyes. Gabe licked him on the cheek, and Mr. Johnson cackled as one tear slipped down his face. “He always knows what to do.”
Abbey took a seat in a chair in a room decorated very differently from Madison’s. The walls were pale blue with two generic landscape pictures. She watched as Mr. Johnson produced a ball he liked to toss for Gabe, one of her pet’s favorite activities.
She used to throw a ball to Gabe for endless hours after her daughter’s death because Lisa had loved to do that when she hadn’t been too weak. If it hadn’t been for her dogs, she didn’t know if she could have pulled her life together, to finally finish her master’s degree and become a medical social worker. But nine months ago, she finally did just that. She knew more than anyone the power of animals to heal a broken heart.
* * *
Later that evening while his sister slept, Dominic paced the hospital room. This was the last operation—at least he hoped so—the one the doctors said would give Madison a chance to regain her ability to walk. But there was no guarantee, thanks to the extensive damage to her legs. Each limb had multiple fractures from the plane wreck. When the rescuers had arrived on the scene, they had been surprised anyone had survived the crash. His father and second wife hadn’t, along with Madi’s beloved pet, Zoe. All the money in the world hadn’t been able to bring his dad back, and it might not be able to give his sister the ability to walk or run.
His cell phone vibrated. He strode to the corridor to answer the call. It was the one he’d been waiting for but dreading from the second in command of his clothing and textile company. “Yes, what’s happening?”
“Not good, Dominic,” Samuel Dearborn said, in a voice full of exhaustion that matched how Dominic felt. “Three of our employees were kidnapped. The rebels are demanding two hundred thousand each.”
Dominic’s stomach clenched. “We have to do whatever is necessary to get our people back. But this is it. I won’t be threatened again and again. We’re moving the factory back to the United States. We should have done that six months ago when the rebels grew stronger.” But at that time his life had fallen apart, and his focus had been on burying his father and stepmother. Then he had to take care of his dad’s business affairs, especially Winter Haven Ranch, as well as make sure his younger half sister got the care and medical treatment she needed.
“When will you be able to come back to Houston?”
“Don’t know. I’m still needed here. Keep me updated.” After Dominic hung up, he leaned back against the wall, the quiet in the hallway not the comfort he needed. But what would that be, exactly? His sister healed? Yes, but something else wasn’t right.
Was it the situation in Costa Sierra? Maybe. He’d never been totally convinced that had been the best move for his company. The profit levels had gone up, but look at what he was dealing with now. He couldn’t risk any more of his workers being taken for ransom.
His gaze fixed upon a scene painted on the wall across from him. A little white dog holding a ball in its mouth looking up at a boy. The dog reminded him of Zoe—the dog that had died in the plane crash, the one his sister had been crying about earlier when that woman—Abbey Harris—had visited with her black Lab.
For a few seconds an image of the social worker flashed into his mind. Her pert face, framed by medium-length chestnut-red hair, had held his attention, but what had kept him looking at her in the hallway were her eyes, looking like swirls of milk chocolate. Inviting. Full of concern. Could she and Gabe truly help his sister?
A scream pierced the air—a scream from Madi’s room. Dominic raced inside and scooped his sister into his embrace while she lay in bed. “I’m here. You aren’t alone.”
Madi shook against him, sobbing and clinging to him. It had taken the rescuers twenty minutes to get to her in the plane wreck. She’d been there alone. Trapped.
The only thing that seemed to calm her was his reassurances that she wasn’t alone, that he was there for her. The few times he hadn’t been, he’d gotten a frantic call from the housekeeper or a nurse at the hospital. That was why he always stayed in the room with her and hadn’t yet returned to his life in Houston.
“I won’t leave you, Madi,” he whispered over and over until her cries subsided. “Ever.”
She pushed her hair back, her eyes red, her face pale. “You weren’t here.”
“I’d only gone out into the hall for a minute.” He sat back in the chair near the bed and held her hand. “Go back to sleep. I’ll stay beside you. Nothing can hurt you now—not with me here.”
She closed her eyes, but a minute later they popped opened, then slid shut again. Slowly her tense body relaxed. He kept holding her hand until he was sure she had fallen asleep. Tomorrow would be a long day with her surgery. He needed to get some rest, too.
He moved to the cot he’d been using and eased down onto it, his feet planted on the floor, his elbows on his thighs, his hands clasped together.
Heavenly Father, if someone has to suffer, make it me. I can’t take seeing Madi go through this anymore. I’ve needed You these past months. Why are You so silent? I’ve gotten her the best doctors money can buy. It doesn’t seem to be enough. What should I do?
* * *
The next morning, Abbey entered Harris Veterinary Hospital, which her father owned, and headed back to the examination rooms where he saw animals. Spying her dad writing something on a chart, she stopped, taking in the white lab coat he always wore at work. Distinguished-looking, with short salt-and-pepper hair, he was one of the kindest men she knew. Her childhood had been filled with animals and loving parents.
“Hi, Dad. Why did you want to see me? I can’t stay long, or I’ll be late for work.” Abbey set down a cup of coffee from their favorite place on the counter for her father. “Who do you have here?”
“An abandoned dog. Someone left her on my doorstep this morning. She’s in pretty good health and hasn’t been on her own long. I wouldn’t be surprised if her owner left her here.”
She knew where this was going. At least once a month, they had this conversation. “I can’t take another pet. I have three dogs and a couple of cats. With my crazy hours lately I feel I’m neglecting them.” Abbey tried not to make eye contact with the white bichon frise with matted fur.
“I’m going to have to cut most of her fur off. She hasn’t been brushed in a while, but she isn’t too thin. She has fleas, but I’ll take care of that as well as her shots,” he rattled off as he checked the dog’s ears, teeth, lungs and heart. “But I need a home for her.” He fixed his dark eyes on her.
Abbey shook her head. “What part of ‘I can’t take her’ do you not understand?”
“Oh, I heard you. But she’s so sweet and loves to be held. Just ask around. She’ll make someone a great pet. She could easily be trained as a therapy dog. Here, hold her while I give her a shot.”
She started backing toward the door. “No, you don’t. You think the second I hold her, I’ll fall in love with her and take her. I know all of your tactics. Where’s Emma? She’s usually in here assisting you.”
Her father ignored her protests and thrust the animal against her. “Emma’s busy with another animal.”
Abbey sighed, put her coffee down and took the quivering dog into her arms.
“She needs extra love right now.” Her father finished with the shot and turned away rather than taking the bichon.
Just like Madison Winters. “You could always take her. Or Emma.”
“I already have five dogs and two cats, besides taking care of this veterinary practice. And Emma took home the last stray.”
“You already asked her, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “I have to keep my assistant happy. She’s the best there is. Almost like having another veterinarian working here.”
“I know.” When Abbey made the mistake of looking down into the dog’s brown eyes, she knew she was a goner. “Okay, okay. I’ll try to find her a home. But no guarantees.”
Her dad smiled. “Good. You can come pick her up after work today. Being at your house would be so much better than living in a cage here. Don’t you agree?”
She laughed. “I could say no, but it wouldn’t make any difference.” Approaching her father, she kissed him on the cheek, then turned to leave. “Now I really do have to go. A little girl is having an operation, and I want to check on her this morning.”
Abbey quickly left before her father found another animal for her to take home. In spite of her protests, she loved giving them a place to live. Along with the Lord, it was her dogs, especially Gabe, that had gotten her through Lisa’s death and her husband’s abandonment. But no pet could totally replace the emptiness in her heart.
Was that why she couldn’t shake Dominic Winters and his sister from her mind last night? She’d even dreamed about the pair. And she’d relived the grief and pain in their expressions in that dream. She’d seen that in herself when her daughter had died—and it was still there locked deep inside her. Seeing Madison yesterday had brought it rushing back to the surface.
When she pulled into her parking space at the hospital, an idea started forming in her mind concerning the Winters family. She knew what might help Madison, and perhaps even her older brother. Abbey had promised her dad she would find a good home for the bichon frise. What if the abandoned animal could replace the dog Madison lost?
As she strode toward her office, she remembered Dominic’s reaction to Gabe yesterday. Now all she had to do was convince him a pet would help Madison in her recovery.