Page 31 of The Convict Gets His Girl

Jewel glanced at him, her fingers on her lips and questions in her eyes, a blush staining her cheeks. He didn't know how to answer those questions and just remained silent, watching her.

Finally she said, "You can lead your horse around back to the barn, and we'll put her up in a stall with some food and water so we can take my truck to the McBrides."

His arms felt empty without her, but he strode through the clinic and out the door, leading his horse to the barn and securing her in a stall with a pat and a promise to return.

Minutes later, Chase hopped into the passenger seat of Jewel's truck, the engine humming a comforting tune beneath them. As they drove down the dusty road, Jewel glanced over at him, an unreadable expression on her face.

"Do you miss driving?" she asked, navigating a tight bend with practiced ease.

"Actually, not really." Chase watched the landscape roll by, feeling a strange sense of detachment from the man he used to be. "I miss being in control more than anything. Prison didn't offer many choices, and not driving this past year… it was like another form of confinement. Made me focus on what was right in front of me."

Jewel nodded, her brow furrowed. "I'm surprised you can talk about it so casually. I'd be a mess."

"Group therapy," he admitted, turning to look at her profile. "It helps. So did all the other therapies in prison. Talking about it… it gives you a kind of power over the past."

She was silent for a moment, then sighed, her hands tightening momentarily on the steering wheel. "Well, I'm glad you're not letting it rule your life anymore."

The rest of the drive unfolded with the hum of the engine and the rustling of thoughts that swirled through Chase's mind. He was about to come face to face with someone he'd hated for years, although therapy had helped him see that he was just projecting his guilt instead of accepting responsibility for his own actions.

The truck rolled to a stop, dust kicking up around the tires as they pulled into the weedy yard of the McBride place. The single-wide trailer sat lopsided, its windows grimy and the paint peeling away like sunburnt skin. Chickens pecked aimlessly among the overgrowth, scattering as Chase stepped out into the crunching dryness.

"Who are you and what the hell are y'all doin' here?" Andre barked from the doorway, his voice rough as gravel. His once lean frame had succumbed to years of neglect, a sagging beer gut stretching his dirty brown shirt.

Before Jewel could answer, a skinny woman burst through the door, her face drawn tight with worry. "Thank God you're here," she gasped, her voice trembling with relief and fatigue. "It's the dog. He's been barkin' nonstop all day, and I didn't get a wink of sleep. I was hoping someone would come look at her before my night shift."

Chase clenched his jaw as the woman led them around to the back, her words tumbling out in an anxious stream. He could feel the old animosity for Andre stirring within him like a coiled snake, ready to strike. But he pushed it down, focusing on staying close to Jewel, knowing that his past was just that—past.

"Stay close," he murmured to Jewel, his gaze darting between the long weeds and the dilapidated surroundings, vigilant for any sign of danger.

"Always do," she replied softly, her attention on the frantic woman.

In the backyard, tied to a stake, was a border collie that looked more like a ghost of a dog than a living creature. Its fur was matted and filthy, eyes filled with a quiet desperation—one brown, the other blue. A soft whimper escaped its parched lips as Jewel approached, her voice dropping to a soothing whisper.

"Hey there, sweetheart," she cooed, gently inspecting the malnourished animal while it shivered at her touch.

"Damn thing's more trouble than it's worth," Andre grumbled from behind them, his voice carrying a hint of menace. "Should be put out of her misery. Can't even keep the rats at bay."

Chase stiffened, but kept silent watch, crossing his arms and waiting.

* * *

Jewel kneeled in the dirt, her fingers brushing through the matted fur of the border collie, whose chain clinked softly with each shivering breath. The dog watched her with a weary resignation that tugged at Jewel's heartstrings. Malnutrition had whittled its body down to a fragile frame, and patches of irritated skin hinted at an untreated condition.

The woman twisted her hands. "Never mind him. Can you help her? She's been like this for a few days now, and I don't know that she's eaten anything today."

"I'll try my best," Jewel said, asking a few more questions.

Finally, the woman said, "I'm going to finish getting ready for work. I'll be right back," the woman said, disappearing inside the back door that didn't quite close all the way.

"Maybe she got into the rat bait. It's poisonous, and she's a dumb dog," Andre's voice sliced through the stillness of the backyard, grating against Jewel's nerves like sandpaper. She could feel his presence looming behind her, an unwelcome echo of a past she knew Chase would rather forget. "Useless mutt."

Chase's silhouette, tall and vigilant, remained unmoved, his gaze fixed on the potential threat in the weeds rather than the human one behind them. He didn't flinch as Andre stepped closer, radiating hostility.

"Didn't know the pretty vet had a boyfriend. Where'd Gemma find you?" Andre sneered, seeking a reaction.

Jewel ignored his comment, not surprised that he'd mistaken her for her sister.

Chase removed his sunglasses and tilted his head. "Don't recognize me, do you? Just as well. You've changed a lot in the past fifteen years too. Really took care of yourself."

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