Rookie K-9 Unit Christmas: Surviving Christmas. Lenora Worth

said, “I’d gladly have traded those supposed rescues for Patrick’s well-being.”

      Why did bad things happen? She had no idea. But she was certain of one thing. The only way she’d have survived the tragic loss of her baby brother was through a belief that they would someday be reunited in heaven.

      And in the meantime, she intended to stand up for earthly justice as best she could. It was foolish to try to discern divine wisdom or assume she could figure out everything that was occurring. All she knew for sure was that she was glad Sean had come to her and brought his son. Anything beyond that would work out for the best.

      Zoe didn’t know why she was so positive, but she wasn’t about to argue with her conclusions. If it became necessary for her to act as the law enforcement officer she was, then so be it. Rookie or not, she was ready.

      Mulling over the recent call about the fingerprints in the stolen truck, she realized Sean was right. The figure they had seen get into it was no teenager. He’d not only looked like an adult, he’d moved like one. Heavy. Purposeful.

      Dangerous? Maybe. Probably. She felt a shiver climb her spine like a squirrel skittering up the trunk of a ponderosa pine. At the same time she was encouraging Sean to relax, she was going to have to double her guard. And keep him from realizing it.

       FIVE

      Their first stop the following morning was to be the training center. Sean had made pancakes for all of them while Zoe tended to the coffee and helped Patrick dress. He had only allowed her to assist the boy because the doctors had recommended changing off caregivers to encourage independence. It had apparently worked because when she entered the kitchen, Patrick was holding her hand and walking. His gait was stiff and somewhat awkward, but he seemed far more capable than previously.

      “We came for pancakes.” Zoe helped the boy into a chair and tucked a napkin under his chin.

      When she paused and looked to Patrick, Sean heard him say, “Please.”

      “My pleasure.” Deeply moved, Sean was turning away to tend the stove when his son added, “Please, Dad-dy.” The frying pan faded for a moment while he regained control of his emotions.

      When he looked back at the table, Zoe was beaming. “Good, huh?”

      “Very good. Thanks for helping.”

      “Freya helped, too. She pulled on the toes of his socks while he tried to put them on. Patrick had to really fight to get them up.”

      “By himself?” Sean was astonished.

      “Yup. All by himself.”

      “That’s wonderful.”

      Zoe joined him at the stove. “Why don’t you let me finish cooking while you two eat? I’m used to grabbing a quick cup of coffee and whatever I can chew on the run.”

      “Are we in a hurry?” Sean asked, suspicious.

      “You do want to get started with your new dog, don’t you?”

      His brows knit. “Yes. But I’m getting the idea that there’s more to your suggestion than you’re letting on. What is it?”

      “Nothing. Just...”

      “Just what, Zoe?” Instead of going to the table, he lingered close to her. “You may as well tell me. I’m not going to eat a bite until you do.”

      “All right.” As she raised her face, he saw concern mirrored in the dark depths of her eyes. “They got a hit on the ballistics from the bullet fired in your apartment.”

      “And?”

      “And that gun had been used before. In multiple murders. Whoever came after you was no novice, even if he did behave like one that night.”

      “Hit men? Somebody sent professional hit men after me? Why?”

      “It’s anybody’s guess,” she said. “The only good thing about the information is that they’re unlikely to have left the metropolitan area and followed you here.”

      If she had not been trembling slightly, Sean might have felt more comforted by her conclusion. Taking her elbow, he guided her to the table and urged her into one of the chairs. “Sit. I’ll bring you breakfast. And then we’ll go get my dog so I can be on my way.”

      “It doesn’t work like that,” she insisted. “If you’re paired with one of Ellen’s assistance dogs, you have to stay in Desert Valley for training.”

      Sean hesitated. Of course he had to stay. There was no way he’d get the help he needed unless he played by the rules. He filled three plates and delivered them to the table, then busied himself cutting Patrick’s food into bite-size pieces while he processed his dilemma.

      “I see your point,” he finally said. “And I suppose it won’t help if I keep running. I was just trying to remove the danger from around you.”

      “I’m not the one you should be worrying about,” she said. “After we see how Angel reacts to Patrick, we’ll take Patrick to the day care that I think is best.”

      “I don’t want...”

      “I know. You don’t want him away from you for a second. I get it. I do. But he’ll be safer mixed in with other kids than he is if he stays with you all the time. You’re the target, he isn’t.”

      “Apparently. I just wish I knew why. The only important thing in my life is my son.”

      Zoe frowned. “As far as you know. There has to be something else going on. Someone hired the hit men for a reason. And the guys who are after you seem to be high-end. Who do you know with money to burn?”

      “Sandra’s parents, Alice and John Shepherd. But like I said, they’d hire a lawyer, not a thug.”

      “If you say so.” She stuffed a bite of pancake into her mouth and licked her lips, momentarily distracting Sean and making him wonder what it would feel like to kiss that sweet mouth for real instead of only in his imagination. Shaking off the unwarranted thought, he said, “Okay. You’re right. We’ll go visit the day care. But I won’t promise I’ll leave him.”

      “Fair enough.” Zoe licked her lips again, then reached for his mug. “More coffee?”

      Sean was still staring at her tender, sweet mouth. “Huh?”

      “Pay attention, Murphy. Do you want a refill?”

      Sean merely nodded. He’d been paying attention, all right. To the wrong thing. The more time he spent with Zoe, the more he realized what a fool he had been to marry Sandra. He’d apparently been deluded by his youthful desires and had made the biggest mistake of his life; one it was too late to correct.

      Or was it? Studying Zoe and admitting his own shortcomings, he concluded they would never be a good match. Not now. Not when she was so capable and he was damaged goods. Sadly, their chance for happiness had passed. He was simply pleased she’d stepped into his life long enough to render the kind of specialized aid for which she’d been trained.

      Those thoughts led him further into the doldrums and left him wondering if she would consider looking after Patrick if something bad happened to him. It wasn’t fair to even suggest it, of course, yet he desperately wanted to be able to count on someone he trusted. To know his son would be loved and cared for if the assassins finally succeeded.

      Maybe later he’d bring up the subject, Sean decided. If he lived long enough.

      A gentle touch on his arm drew him back to the present. Zoe had put down his steaming mug and was leaning closer, staring as if he’d just had an episode of regression. If he turned his head just a little, maybe...

      “Earth to Murphy. Are you all right?”

      “Fine.” He swallowed hard.