No Man Left Behind: A Veteran Inspired Charity Anthology by Elizabeth Knox (black authors fiction TXT) 📕

when he’s comfortable,” I tell her, looking around at the pile of wood I’ve been chopping the past hour then down to the axe. Probably best to not freak Duckie out by swinging this thing around.

Putting that away, I’m stacking up the wood when I hear her car coming up the drive and can’t believe the nervousness I’m feeling. It’s a therapy dog, it’s basically trained to like crazy people, I think, grinning to myself as I continue my chore.

The gate screeches its displeasure when Lucy opens it and I have no problem staying focused on her and not the beautiful chocolate Lab that bounds into this fenced in yard. Her brown hair is loose today and it suits her face better than the bun she had it in the other day, I just wish to hell she wasn’t wearing sunglasses.

I have to bite back my grin when her eyes land on me and her jaw drops. What can I say? Of course I took my shirt off when I was cutting wood. Trying to look innocent and not like I’m showing off for her, I stride over to the post that’s holding my T and I pull it over my head as she’s mumbling something.

“What’s that?” I ask, arching a brow in her direction.

“Hi.”

“Oh, I thought you said something else?” I push her further, standing completely still as Duckie comes to investigate me.

“He’s not going to attack you, Owen. You can interact with him.” Now it’s Lucy’s turn to grin at me and she’s right, but Jesus, this feels like a job interview between the spark I feel for her and my need to impress this dog.

“Hey, Duckie!” I say, immediately turning to him and he lets out a playful bark when I scratch him behind his ear.

“There and his hind quarters are his favorite places for rubs,” Lucy tells me. “Oh! I see you have a water bowl out for him already!”

“Yeah, I hit up the pet store yesterday. I’m pretty sure the owner took the rest of the day off after my sale.”

“Shall we start working on some basic commands?” Lucy asks and I nod.

The next couple hours become the most normal day I’ve had in nearly a decade and it’s only when Lucy lets out a dry cough that I realize that I never offered her anything.

When she quickly takes me up on my offer of lunch, we move inside and I get to work on our sandwiches while she uses the bathroom. I keep an eye on Duckie while I work but instead of begging for scraps, he spends the time investigating the cabin.

“If I ask you something, will you answer honestly?” I turn to Lucy when she joins me; her shoulders tense up but she nods after a moment. “Did my application get pushed through faster than it should have?”

Lucy exhales, relieved I didn’t ask her a personal question and reaches for the plate I’m holding out to her. “Yes, with a nice sized donation. That’s why I was assigned to you though, my boss knew I wouldn’t let The Duck go to anyone who wasn’t deserving of him.”

“So, you will let me have Duckie?” I wonder how I should feel about cutting the line and getting special treatment, but I doubt it would benefit anyone to back away now.

“I insisted on a full transition period. Duckie, huh? Well, Duckie will still be coming home with me the next few nights. We can be back in the morning . . .”

“I have therapy in town at eight a.m.”

“We can meet you there, if you want to introduce him to your doctor?” she offers and my eyes widen. “You need to get used to the idea of Duckie going everywhere with you. The harness he wears and the ID card you’ll get permits it.”

“Can I ask you something else?” I try; knowing I’m pushing my luck and am surprised when she nods again. “Do you think he’ll come after you again?”

“What? How did you . . .” My question rattles her more than it should and that in itself is an answer.

“Keith is in private security, he ran a search on you yesterday,” I tell her, throwing him completely under the bus and not confessing that I nosed into her past also.

“He had no right to do that.” Her voice trembles as she fists her hand. Duckie knows her well enough to know that something’s up and looks between us, obviously conflicted. “I think we’re done for today.”

“Lucy,” I start, standing in front of her and Duckie starts whining. “It’s okay, boy. Lucy, we can help you. I’m sorry about your privacy, it’s just that Keith has contacts that can help you; if you think your ex will come for you again.”

Walking around me, with the therapy dog on her heels, she remembers his leash and doubles back for it. “He will. Look, I’ve met some cops through work, they’re veterans and foster the puppies. I wanted someone in the area to know about the restraining order and that I might be in danger. Just tell him he’s an ass for looking into me like that.”

“We’ve all told him at some point,” I say, grinning at her. “Don’t expect him to apologize, and he’ll always tell you what’s on his mind as bluntly as possible, but he does mean well.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Lucy says, turning back to the door and I’m really fucking sorry to see her go.

Letting Lucy know that I know about her past removes some wall between us and the visits over the next few days lack our initial awkwardness. I spend our hours apart studying the training guide that she smuggled to me and preparing meals that I can easily reheat, any excuse to get her to stay longer.

“Are you ready for your first overnight?” Lucy asks me just as I sip my chili off the spoon and I nearly choke on it, looking up at her