Threat of Darkness(67)

 Still, it was all she could do to keep from adding a silent But…?





EIGHTEEN

John had participated in the drug raids. All in all, the combined sheriff’s and police departments, with the help of the state police, had arrested seventeen criminals from three counties and there were outstanding warrants for more.

 That left only one critical task to complete as far as he was concerned. He had to find Brutus. Unfortunately, no one who had been arrested would admit to taking the dog so John had begun cruising the back roads in his free time. It didn’t matter how slim his chances were. He had to keep trying. For Samantha’s sake.

 Reporting that he’d had no success was one of the hardest things he’d had to do in a long time, yet he knew it wasn’t fair to keep her hopes up, especially now that Sunday’s deadline had passed.

 She came out onto the porch as soon as he pulled up in front of her house. Her expression was expectant until he shook his head.

 Climbing the steps he reached for her hand, clasping it gently. “I tried my best. None of the raids turned up any clues about Brutus. I’m so sorry, honey.”

 “It’s okay. I’m not very good at accepting no as an answer to my prayers but I’m working on it. It’s really hard.” She sniffled and blinked back unshed tears.

 “If there was anything I could do, Sam, anything at all, you know I’d do it.”

 “I know.” She gave his hand a tug. “Come on. Let’s sit on the swing out here. It’s stuffy in the house.”

 He let her settle first, then joined her and gave the glider a push to set it in motion as he gazed out across the green, grassy hills and native hardwood forest. “It’ll be winter soon. The walnut trees are already shedding their leaves.”

 “I know. The Purple Martins migrated months ago, too,” she added. “I miss their singing, especially in the mornings when I’m getting ready for work. Hearing something cheerful like that would help distract me from what may have happened to Brutus.”

 The catch in her voice made him slip an arm around her shoulders and pull her closer. Part of him wanted to reassure her that the old dog was fine in spite of suspicions that they’d never see him again. Another urge kept insisting that he offer to buy her a new puppy. Neither seemed right. Not at this point.

 Samantha rested her head on his shoulder. “I know life is full of disappointments. I just can’t help wishing I had Brutus back. He’s already lived longer than big dogs like him are supposed to and I’d like another chance to make his golden years special.”

 “I doubt he’d have had nearly as long a life if you hadn’t come to his rescue when he was little. You gave him a wonderful home and plenty of love.”

 “But I wasn’t done,” Samantha protested. “I suppose I’ll have to get used to being alone.”

 “Well, don’t get too used to it. You have promised to marry me soon,” John reminded her, planting a quick kiss on her hair. “Have you talked to Brother Malloy about performing the ceremony?”

 “Yes. You should have seen the expression on his face when I brought it up. He said he’s been praying for us for years and…”

 When she broke off in midsentence, John was afraid she might be fighting tears again. He was about to reassure her of his undying love when she pushed him away and jumped to her feet.

 Mouth agape, eyes wide, she leaned over the porch railing and used her whole arm to point. “Look!”

 At first he didn’t see what had gotten her so excited. Then, there was a swaying in the tall weeds that bordered the pasture to the west. He squinted. Noticed a dark shadow. Was he seeing things? If he was hallucinating he wasn’t the only one!

 Samantha bolted, hammered down the steps and raced across the lawn.

 A bedraggled, matted dog with its head held low and tail barely flagging met her at the fencerow.

 She fell to her knees and threw her arms around its neck. “Oh, Brutus, where have you been? What happened to you?”

 John was grinning from ear to ear as he jogged up to join them. “Too bad he can’t tell us. I imagine it’s quite a story.”

 Rocking back on her heels Sam used her hands to do a cursory physical exam. “He’s covered with burrs and probably loads of ticks and chiggers but he seems okay otherwise.” She lifted the frayed end of a piece of rope that had been looped around his neck. “It looks like he chewed his way loose and escaped.”

 “Which is probably why nobody would own up to taking him. They didn’t have him anymore and hoped they wouldn’t be blamed.” Chuckling and sharing her joy, John added, “If you want to give him a bath I’ll be glad to stay and help. Either that or you may have to fumigate your house.”