Over His Head. Carolyn McSparren

let out a tiny yelp.

      “Hey, Miss Nancy,” Big said, flashing her and Eddy his brilliant smile. “Hey, young’un.”

      Eddy’s gulp was audible.

      “Hey, Big,” Nancy said. “Eddy, Big here is our nursemaid. He’ll take really good care of your pup.”

      “But…” Eddy looked back at Nancy over his shoulder. She could see the fear and consternation in his face.

      “Y’all just come on in here,” Big said. “Y’all can help ole—what’s his name, boy?”

      “Just Pup,” Eddy whispered.

      “Okay, now you give me JustPup here and we’ll fix him up a nice soft bed.”

      “Can I pet him some?”

      “Lordy, yes.” Big opened the door to the ICU area and ushered Eddy, JustPup and Nancy through.

      “He’s shy,” she whispered.

      Big nodded. “Yes’m.” He looked down at his gigantic feet a little sadly. “Guess he’s sceert ’cause I’m so big.”

      Nancy patted his arm. “He won’t be once he gets to know you.”

      Big set up the ICU cage, sat on the air mattress in the center of the room and invited Eddy and the pup to sit beside him. Big held the little dog as though it were a baby bird while Eddy stroked it. With each stroke he inched closer to Big until he was leaning against his massive thigh.

      Nancy checked the large cages first. Wonder of wonders, the mastiff was sitting up on his own. In the small cages, the Jack Russell was already standing, wagging his tail and yapping. Bless Mac Thorn! He truly could work miracles.

      “What say we put JustPup here in his house and let him have a nap?” Big asked Eddy. “I got to let out my dog, Daisy, for a little run. Can you throw a ball? Ole Daisy, she does love to chase her ball.” He looked at Nancy and winked.

      She backed out. “I’ll come get you in a few minutes, Eddy.”

      He didn’t raise his head.

      She checked the charts for both the mastiff and terrier, saw that neither had a temperature and that they were receiving their antibiotics. She’d change dressings after she sent Eddy and Tim away.

      She met Tim in the reception area where he was still filling out forms.

      “Where’s Eddy?” he asked.

      “He’s fine. Big’s looking after him. If you’d like to get back to Williamston, I can bring Eddy home in a little while.”

      “You wouldn’t mind?”

      “It’s hardly out of my way.”

      He handed the papers to Alva Jean, the day receptionist and Big’s current girlfriend, then followed Nancy through the door to the examining rooms and down the hall toward the cavernous large animal area and the staff parking.

      In the pasture behind the building, Nancy saw Big with his back to them and his hands on his hips. She realized that Eddy stood in front of him only when she saw his thin arm lob a yellow tennis ball down the pasture. A sturdy beige dog caught it in midair and trotted toward the pair in triumph. Eddy clapped as Daisy dropped the ball at his feet and sat waiting for him to throw it again.

      “My God,” Tim breathed. “Who’s that? And isn’t that a pit bull?”

      “That’s Mr. Bigelow Little, kennel man, security guard and general associate, and his dog, Daisy. Yes, she’s a pit bull. She adores children. Don’t worry, she won’t attack Eddy.”

      “I—they have such a bad reputation.”

      “Any dog that’s abused and not properly trained can get a bad reputation.”

      At that moment Eddy spotted his father and called to him, “Daddy! Watch, Daddy!” He threw the ball. Daisy chased it, retrieved it and deposited it once more at Eddy’s feet. He dropped to his knees and cradled her head in his arms, then buried his face in her neck.

      Nancy heard Tim catch his breath, but all he said was, “Great, son.”

      “Eddy looks like he’s set for a while,” Nancy said to him before calling out again. “Eddy, you want to ride home with me? You can feed your pup again before you leave.”

      “Can I, Big?” Eddy looked up at the big man with the same trust Nancy had seen in the eyes of everything from wild deer to newborn kittens.

      “Sure. How ’bout we put Daisy back in my house and go do that little thing?”

      “Okay.” Eddy scooped up the ball, then did what Nancy was sure was a miraculous thing in Tim’s eyes. He grabbed Big’s huge hand and walked off toward the small bungalow at the back of the parking lot without a backward glance at his father.

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      IS THAT ALL it would have taken? Tim wondered. One puppy and Eddy was fixed?

      Obviously not. But for the first time since Solange had been killed Eddy was showing signs of behaving like a normal boy. Once the novelty wore off the puppy, Eddy might well fall back into his silent misery. Tim prayed that wouldn’t happen. He doubted the puppy would work the same magic with Angie and Jason, although they both loved animals. They wouldn’t get to meet it until it came home anyway. If it survived.

      Tim wasn’t surprised they hadn’t come downstairs earlier when they could have met the puppy. Like most teenagers, they could sleep through a riot. Even in their small Chicago apartment, nothing woke them on Saturdays before noon—not even police sirens.

      Maybe Nancy Mayfield would find the key to unlock the normal parts of Jason and Angie. For the first time since he pulled away from his city apartment, he felt absolutely certain he’d done the right thing moving his family down to Williamston.

      If he’d listened to Solange and gotten them out of Chicago earlier, she might still be alive.

      His pigheadedness had destroyed their marriage and killed her. He’d live with his guilt for the rest of his life, not only for her death, but also for the life he’d forced on her, the choices she’d made.

      No matter how much she’d demanded they all rely on her since Solange’s death, he knew he’d been right to get his children and himself away from his mother-in-law, too. He’d certainly used her, but then she’d used him as well. She’d tried to submerge them all in permanent mourning. Solange would have been furious.

      Tim had never called her anything except Madame, nor had she asked him to. The French term for mother-in-law was Belle Mere—Beautiful Mother.

      And Madame was still a beautiful woman, small, reed-slim, with that innate chic that French women seemed to possess as a birthright. Solange had been even more beautiful than her mother. She was also clever and funny—at least in the old days.

      Madame didn’t hesitate to tell him she thought Solange could have done better for herself than a workaholic high school vice principal and adjunct professor. He might never even become a full principal or a full professor.

      Solange had been three months pregnant with Jason when they’d married, so Madame considered her damaged goods. Madame had never forgiven Tim for that, either.

      Actually Solange had seduced him, not that he needed much seducing. She saw him as an up-and-coming graduate assistant with a Ph.D. and a prestigious academic career ahead of him. He saw nothing except her beauty and charm.

      “You never appreciated her,” Madame railed at him. “You have no passion. You work all the time for no money and no prestige. Why else do you think she went back to graduate school? Why else did she take a lover?”

      He’d endured her tirades and her guilt trips. The children needed her, and she had lost a beloved daughter.

      Had he lost a beloved