Page 14 of Montana's Bravest

“Enjoy, gentlemen.” I hurry to the front door. Electrocution averted. Heart attack canceled.

“Excuse me!” Out of nowhere, a man stops me in my track. I recognized him, he’s the lone diner from a corner table. “What’s the deal with Cujo here?” he lashes out at me, and then throws his disgust at Maximus. “I didn’t pay to dine with dogs.”

“Hey!” Mr. Gray Diamond gets up. “You don’t talk to the lady like that. You’ve got a problem with my dog, you talk to me.”

I extend my hand and eyeball my sudden protector, telling him I’ve got this.

Complaints, unruly behaviors, threats, and provocations are part of running a bar. In this business, you’ve got to have thehead, the heart, and the physique to stay above the shit thrown at you, or you’ll sink. The man’s remark is an insult that hits my core. Maybe because of who Maximus is, or the magnetism of his handler, but the situation calls for me to raise my voice.

“There’s no Cujo here, sir,” I say to his face. I figure the guy isn’t smart enough to know that he’s got the breed all wrong, so I curb the urge to correct him that Cujo is in fact a Saint Bernard. “This is Staff Sergeant Maximus, and he isn’t just a dog, Sir. He’s a war hero.”

“Leave the dog alone!” I hear a voice curling from across the room, followed by a unanimous ‘yeah’ from others.

The grumpy man stands his ground.

“I’m the manager here, and I say the Staff Sergeant is allowed to dine here. If you’ve got a problem with that, you can leave.”

The man reluctantly goes back to his table. Head down, he continues with his late lunch. He might’ve been in a complaining mood, but no one—no one—leaves half a cheeseburger uneaten at The Fox.

“Are you coming back?” Lisa catches me before I walk out the door.

“I’m not sure. Grace tried to run away, so I’ve got to pick her up before she gets into more trouble.”

“Oh, the poor child. Don’t worry about coming back. I’ll take care of everything.”

“Thank you.”

As I hurry out, I give Mr. Gray Diamond half a glance, absorbing the last rays of his warmth.Damn me, damn him.After years of singledom, after believing no man will ever attract my attention again, there he is. Illogical, sudden, and absurd. But his sheer presence has dug out feelings that I thought I’d lost forever, and I welcome them without guilt, as if they’re my right.

In the absence of resistance, I leave myself exposed to a barrage of sensations—from desire, lust, and fondness, torespect and reverence. What follows is a feeling of freedom as the burden of maintaining ‘Hardy Cassidy’ evaporates. My inside softens, and I feel like a human again.

I allow a few more seconds for those feelings to stay. Then, as I drive away from The Fox, I shove them back into a dark corner, bury them, and raise my wall back up.

6

SAM

Maximus glances at me after a long survey of The Thirsty Fox’s comings and goings.

“She’s gone, buddy,” I drawl.

She works here, and this bar isn’t going anywhere, but to see her disappear just now is like suffering from an irreversible loss.

My hands clasp together, trying to preserve the sensation of holding her. She was lying on that alleyway behind the bar, next to a van which, fittingly, stamped with a Fallen Angel logo. Right there, she gave me the most profound gaze, like she’d just woken up from a dream and into another dream. It was admiration in her eyes, I’m sure of it, and I was the only one there to soak it in.

As if following my thoughts, my dog releases a low bark.

“Don’t even think about it,” I warn him as his hunter instincts kick in, his body tensing like he’s ready to sprint off. “Maximus, stay!” And just like the soldier he is, he obeys and settles down. “That’s my boy.”

Ordering a pair of Fox cheeseburgers, which the waitress swears are killer, I wonder what the hell got into Max earlier. He’s never so much as barked at a stranger before, let alone pounced.

It shouldn’t have happened. Either my fitness had gone downhill already now that I’m in between missions, or Max is hiding some kind of canine super strength. Regardless, Max was legit lucky this time—had he done what he did to another stranger, he could’ve been put down.

What drew him to her, I can’t figure out. I’m sure it wasn’t retaliation for what he thought was a violation of his ass at the vet. The dog sensed something in her, like I did. Was it the pull in her eyes, flickering between confrontation and retreat, or her voice, hitting notes that made the background jazz pale in comparison? Or maybe it was the affection that radiated out of her when she said ‘I love you’ to whoever was on a call with her then (I suspect it was her daughter, as I sawGrace’s Daycareon her phone screen; surely she wouldn’t say that to anyone else at a daycare).

Or maybe it’s in her strength. She’s not one you could easily cross. Case in point: the loudmouth looking to toss us out. She had the balls to put him back in his place and defend my dog.

The waitress goes on, “Drinks, guys?”

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