Page 45 of Shelter for Martina

God, it was good to have somebody there with him! After he’d had a bowl of tomato soup Martina made for him, she helped him get into bed and sat with him until he fell asleep. When he woke at about eight or so, there was a weight on the foot of the bed, something he couldn’t identify, so he sat up and blinked until he could make it out.

It was the dog. Somebody had picked it up and brought it home. “Martina?”

She rounded the bedroom doorway and smiled. “Oh, I see you’ve found your friend!”

“Dog.”

“Yeah. She was ready to come home. Vet says she’s already been spayed. Mr.Emerson called the number on the collar, but nobody answered, so he went over there. The neighbor fella said she belonged to the people who’d lived there but when they moved away, they just left her behind. Said he fed her for a while but she disappeared. And then she turned up over here.”

“Hmmm. She’s pretty all cleaned up like that,” Bud pointed out, and the dog army-crawled up the bed and licked his hand. “Seems well-behaved too.”

“Yeah. I’d say she’s been inside before. Oh, and she had a collar. That’s where we got the old owner’s info. It’s on the nightstand there. Had her name on it, but I think you’ll want to rename her.” With that, she turned and walked out, leaving the dog on the foot of the bed with Bud.

“So what’s your name, girl?” Bud asked the dog, who wiggled even closer to him and laid her head on his leg. As he lay back down, he picked up the collar and read it. The address and number were on one side of the tag, but when he turned it over, he smiled.

Hi! My name is Becky!

He dropped the collar back on the gleaming surface of the nightstand and placed his hand gently on the dog’s head, feeling her tail wag through the blanket. Even as a tear rolled down his temple, he smiled. “Baby,” he whispered into the air, “if you wanted to send me a sign, you just succeeded.”

Chapter 7

Sunlight was streamingin the window of the bedroom across the hallway when Bud woke up, and the aroma of fresh coffee and eggs cooking filled the air. He tried to sit up. “Oh, gawwwwwd.” Jesus, he hurt all over!

“Hey, SuzySunshine! You’re awake!”

He pried an eye open. “What are you doing here? You should be at work.”

“Well, first off, I had nobody to take me.”

“Oh. Well, um—”

“And second, no way was I leaving you here alone today.”

“But you—”

“For once, would you just not argue with me, please? Can you get up? I made breakfast.”

“I’m not sure. There’s not an inch of my body that doesn’t hurt,” Bud moaned.

“I figured as much. But the sooner you start moving around, the sooner the soreness will work its way out. Oh, and your captain called to check on you. Said he’d be calling back in a couple of hours. So you need to be ready to talk to him.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

She fixed him with a piercing glare. “And I think you and I need to talk.”

“What did I do now?”

“Nothing. You just told me yesterday at the hospital you had some things to tell me, but not there. And I want to know what they are.”

“Can I just eat first? Please? And get some coffee?”

“Sure. Come on. I’ll help you.”

No doubt about it, he needed help. He thought he’d die before he managed to get out of bed, and bending down to put on pants was out of the question. It felt really stupid to stand there and pick up first one foot and then the other for Martina to help him put on pajama pants, but there wasn’t a lot of choice involved. It also hurt to lift his arms up high enough to put a shirt on, but he did it. With all that done, he was pretty damn proud of himself until he tried to walk, and then he was back to zero with nothing but shame to live through. Sitting at the table, he knew he was eating slowly, but he didn’t care.

And then came the third degree. “So what didn’t you want to tell me at the hospital?”

Might as well get it over with, he told himself. “Somebody shot out my windows.”

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