Page 51 of Dangerous Secrets
“Damn it all to hell.”Cursing, and with Delaney’s hand still in his, Walker pushedforward, the beam of his flashlight fixed on a dark shape in thewater.The little dog sat huddled on a rock about three feet fromshore, fast-moving water swirling around him.The beam of theflashlight picked up his desperately pleading dark eyes.As theygot nearer the whining increased, then abruptly ceased.
“He fell in.”Walkershoved his light into her hand and surged into the current.Delaneyfollowed, the water coming to within inches of the top of herboots.Bud surfaced, scrabbling against the rock as he tried toclimb back onto it.
“He’s got something tiedaround his neck.”
She kept the light steady as Walkerreached the little dog, scooping him out of the water as far aswhat turned out to be a thin rope around his neck would allow.Hethrust him into Delaney’s arms.“Hold him.”
Walker pulled his knife from itssheath on his belt.She held the flashlight while he used the bladeto quickly saw through the binding.Once Bud was free, they wadedthrough the water to the bank.Walker opened his jacket and zippedthe sopping dog inside, his arm holding the shivering bundleagainst him.“Let’s go.You light the way and head to my place.Weneed to get him warmed up fast or he’ll die ofhypothermia.”
They moved quickly through the dark.Delaney’s mind spun.How could the little dog have gotten into thecreek and with a rope around his neck?The ugly possibilities madeher more alarmed.
Once on the farm road, they movedfaster, and soon a light from Walker’s cabin shone through thedarkness.They entered the cabin, which was blessedly warm.Walkerwent straight to the woodburning stove and opened the front to addmore wood from a box nearby.He nodded toward the hall.“There aretowels in the closet.Grab a couple.”
Leaving her boots at the door, shewent to the short hall between the bedrooms and pulled three towelsfrom a shelf, setting two by the stove to warm.Walker unzipped hisjacket, pulling out the bedraggled and pitiful-looking dog.Aftershedding her coat, she wrapped Bud in a towel, dropping to thefloor in front of the stove as she rubbed the cloth over his wetfur.The rope was knotted tight around his neck and Walker crouchedin front of her to cut it off.
“Ah—”
Her mind blanked.
She wondered if the words she’dintended to say had seeped out of her ears.
Walker had taken off his wet shirt andeven as preoccupied with Bud as she was, seeing Walker shirtlessderailed all coherent thought.An intricately designed tattooillustrating one shoulder intrigued her.
She wanted to trace the design withher lips.Or maybe her tongue.Then there was his wide, wide chest.She had to clench her hands in the towel to keep from reaching outto touch, from running her fingers through the wiry dark hairspreading from well-defined pecs until narrowing to a strip,disappearing below his belt.
His gaze caught hers as she struggledto remember what she’d planned to say.Her situation not helped onebit when his big hands joined hers rubbing the towel over thelittle dog.
“Yeah?”He halfchuckled.
She caught the glint of humor in thegreen depths of his eyes.He reached for one of the dry towels, hiscorded muscles rippling.
“Um, nothing,” shemumbled.
She shook her head and told herselfnot to be an idiot.
He wrapped the warm towel around Bud,dark brows lowering as he worked to dry his dog.
Delaney rose to spread the wet towelnear the stove to dry.The movement also helped her to get a littledistance from Walker before she gave in to temptation and licked aswath of that gleaming skin simply to learn how hetasted.
Apparently, her libido hadn’t listenedwhen her brain had been emphatic: Walker was a dangerousrisk.
Deliberately turning away from him toavoid the distraction, she took out her phone and did a quickinternet search.After scanning a page, she asked, “Do you have ahot water bottle?This veterinarian website suggests using a hotwater bottle to bring a dog’s temperature up if you suspecthypothermia.”At Walker’s head shake, she kept reading.“Okay, thenwrapping him in warm towels like we’re doing is good.What about aheating pad?Do you have a heating pad?”
“Yeah.I think Pop hadone.I’ll find it.”He pushed Bud into her hands and disappeareddown the hall.She thought the little dog was shivering less.Shehugged him when he licked her chin.Tufts of mottled fur stuck upfrom his head.
She sat at the end of the couchclosest to the stove with Bud snuggled against her chest.Shecrooned softly while stroking his head as she scrolled on herphone, the muted crackling of the fire a comfortingsound.
Walker came back and she stifled asigh of disappointment.He’d put on a sweatshirt.Not that itmattered.The image of him shirtless was permanently etched on herbrain.
Reading from her phone, she said, “Theveterinarian website says we should put the heating pad on a lowsetting and wrap it in a towel so Bud doesn’t getoverheated.”
Walker crouched to plug in the heatingpad.He snagged another of the towels, wrapped the heating pad asinstructed, and placed it on her lap.Within minutes, Bud wascurled up and asleep, his body giving off the occasional quiver.“Poor little guy.”She spoke quietly as she stroked hishead.
“Be back in a coupleminutes.”
Walker disappeared into the darkenedkitchen, the back door opening and letting in a draft of cold air.The sound of a power drill followed.She figured he was placing aboard over the broken glass in the door.
Minutes later the door opened againand Walker returned.He had his phone to his ear, then disconnectedand dropped next to her on the couch, bringing the smells of thenight air with him.
