Page 2 of Redeeming Harmony

His biceps bulging against his t-shirt, he carefully picked up the stray, cradling him against his chest as he headed toward his truck. She splashed ahead of him and opened the passenger door. The truck was high, and she felt like a little kid, stepping onto the running board and using the handles to help herself climb in before scooting over to the middle. The man eased the shivering, whimpering dog into the truck until his head rested on Harper’s lap.

The dog cried out again when the man shifted his back leg into a more secure position before closing the door. He slid behind the wheel and slammed the door shut. Now that she was sitting right next to him, she was acutely aware of just how big Mr. Sexy Lips was.

He was lean, but he was well over six feet and the hands gripping the steering wheel were twice the size of hers. Harper could feel every brush of his thigh against hers as he started the truck and drove down the road, peering through the windshield.

Both of them were shivering, and he turned the heat to high. She enjoyed the warm air blasting against her body for a few seconds before reaching across and angling the vent so that it blew directly onto the trembling dog draped in her lap.

“Steady, boy. Steady.” She rubbed the thick, wet fur of his forehead and neck when he shifted and yelped.

“I’m Nathan.”

“Harper.” She peered out the windshield into the darkness. “You’re going to take your next right in about five minutes. It’s a long winding driveway. Try to go slow. There are lots of potholes.”

She glanced up at Nathan. “Can I use your cell phone? I left mine in my car.”

He pointed to the phone mounted on the dashboard, and she grabbed it.

“Code is 175636,” Nathan said.

She punched it in and then dialed the number from memory, smiling a little as she held the phone to her ear. Her dad and Addie’s numbers were the only ones she actually knew.

Her father’s voice on the phone chased away some of the chill she felt. “Hey, it’s me. I’m about three minutes away, and I have a dog just hit by a car. Maybe a broken hind leg or some internal injuries. Can you meet me at the clinic?”

“Yes. See you soon, sweetheart.” Her dad ended the call without asking any other questions, and her smile grew. God, she loved him.

She stuck the phone back in its holder on the dashboard. “Once you reach the top of the driveway, take a left. You’ll see a brick building you can park in front of.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything. She petted the injured dog, her teeth clacking together and her body quaking from the cold. She was tempted to lean into Nathan to try to leech some of his body heat, but he was just as wet as she was and wouldn’t provide much warmth.

He turned right and drove slowly down the bumpy gravel driveway. Harper held the injured dog and tried to minimize his movements, breathing a sigh of relief when they parked in front of the clinic. It was already lit up with light, and a sense of being home covered Harper like a warm blanket.

Nathan jumped out and hurried around to the other side of the truck, opening the door and easing the dog out, doing his best not to bump the injured leg as he shifted him in his arms. Harper slid across the seat toward the door and jumped to the ground. She slammed the door shut as the clinic door opened.

Leaving Nathan and the injured dog behind, she ran over and hugged her father, burying her face in his shoulder. He smelled the same, a comforting combination of antiseptic and coffee, and her throat started to burn as she blinked back tears. God, she’d missed him. She hadn’t been home at all since she moved, and he’d only visited her once in New York.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi, Dad.” She kissed his cheek and scooted past him into the clinic, her sneakers making squeaks on the tile floor with every step.

Harper crossed the foyer to the swinging door that separated the waiting area and exam rooms from the clinic's treatment area. She held the door open as Nathan and her father walked through. Nathan eased the dog onto the green blanket spread out on the steel treatment table as her father brought over a muzzle.

He untied Harper’s scarf, setting it on the long counter that held the lab equipment before petting the old dog's cheek and chin. He examined the dog’s eyes, ears, and mouth then slipped the muzzle on and secured it.

“Pupils look normal. Harper, step around here and hold his head while I examine him, please.”

How many times had she done this before? Too many to count. It might have been over a year since she’d last helped her father in the clinic, but she fell into the familiar routine without missing a step. She buried her fingers in the shaggy fur of the dog’s throat and scratched gently.

She was right. The dog was a shepherd cross and horribly thin. His hipbones and ribs stuck out, and he had lost large clumps of fur across his body. She idly wondered when he had eaten last as he made a low sigh and closed his eyes.

She watched her father’s hands, crisscrossed with large blue veins, ease their way down the dog’s body. He prodded the dog’s stomach, and when the dog whined, he said, “Steady, boy. Steady.”

She rubbed the dog’s head again, picking out small burrs and twigs from his fur, murmuring soft assurances to the frightened animal. The initial warmth of the clinic had faded, and she clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering as water dripped from her hair down the back of her neck.

Nathan stood just slightly behind her, and she was more aware of his body than she should have been. Man, how tall was the guy anyway?

Her father hummed softly to himself, occasionally muttering small unintelligible words to the dog as he palpated the dog’s hips.

The dog whimpered and tried to sit up. Harper pressed against his head and shoulders, but despite how emaciated and weak he was, the dog started to slip free. Before she could shout a warning to her father, she felt the hard, warm bulk of Nathan press up against her. His big hand pushed against the dog’s shoulders next to hers, his other hand bracing the dog’s head against the table.

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