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

and rushes to the door. I want to know what she was going to say, but before I can get the question out, she’s through the door and halfway to her vehicle.

I give Careful a perplexed look, and say, “Whelp, it's just you and me, boy.” I grab his bag off the couch and set up his water and food bowls in the kitchen. Pulling out a flannel blanket, I lay it down by the fireplace in the living room. I toss the empty bag on the couch and a tennis ball comes rolling out. With a slight bounce, Careful comes running into the room from the kitchen, and catches the ball in his mouth before sliding into my coffee table with a yelp.

“What the hell?” I roar as the dog scurries through my legs heading to the back door. My arms go up and I try to keep my balance by flinging them around, stumbling backwards, I gain my footing and give a chuckle. I follow Careful to the door, and open it. I watch him race outside with the ball in his mouth.

“Come here, boy. Come on, Careful,” I call out to the dog. He sprints to me with his tail wagging a hundred miles an hour.

“Drop it,” I command, and watch him drop the slobbery ball at my feet. Picking it up gingerly, I give it a good toss across the yard. He gives chase barking happily. He charges across the grass straight for me. I cringe at the thought of the dog slamming into me and sidestep just as he reaches me. I know he is supposed to be a service dog, but he doesn't seem very graceful around people.

We play catch for a few more moments before we head into the house and I fill his bowl with food. While he's eating his dinner, I step out front to walk to the mailbox and check the mail. I noticed down the street is a Jeep that looks extremely familiar, almost identical to the one Hope has. Giving it a second glance, I realize that it is Hope’s vehicle. I wonder why she is parked there. I stroll down to her car and notice that she is looking at her phone. I tap on the glass and startle her.

“Oh, Sam. What are you doing here?” she asked with a confused look on her face.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I remarked, giving her a knowing look. Pretty much figured out that I was watching the dog as a trial to see how I could handle having him in my house.

“I was checking my email before driving home. You know, no texting and driving, safety and all that.” She stumbled over her words to get them out. She looked guilty as hell. Maybe, I should just go ahead and put her out of her misery. Or maybe not. I think I'll let this play out just a little bit longer. It could mean more time together and a chance for me to build up the nerve to ask her out.

“Well, okay. I guess I'll see you at the end of the weekend,” I nonchalantly say before walking back to the house.

Careful’s done with his food and is laying on my couch when I walk in the front door.

“Oh, no you don’t. Off,” I command firmly and point to his pallet made from his blanket on the floor. He groans and flips over. “Careful, down,” I say in a sharper tone. With another groan, he slips off the couch and slinks over to his bed. After doing several circles, he lays down with a dramatic huff. I can’t control myself and burst out with laughter. He lifts his head to gaze at me and thumps his tail on the floor excitedly.

I cook a simple dinner of chicken and rice. As I clean up, I hang my dish towel on the handle of the door. Grabbing my bowl of food, I walk to the living room. Forgetting a drink, I set my dinner on the coffee table.

“I don’t guess you could get me a beer? Huh?” I ask rhetorically.

To my amazement, Careful stands with his ears perked up.

“Get me a beer,” I state again.

He walks to the kitchen and I turn to watch his progress. He steps up to the fridge and grabs the towel with his mouth and pulls back on it. The door pops open and he sticks his head inside. I’m halfway up on my feet to stop him from nosing around when he backs out with a beer bottle in his mouth. My jaw drops open and I’m flabbergasted at the sight. Plopping back down on the couch, I watch him trot back to me and drop the bottle in my lap. This weekend might work out for the best after all.

Chapter Four

Hope

I chew on my fingernails until they are down to the nub, I should go back and fess up. He seems to already know what I’m up to. No, I’ll give them tonight to bond and I’ll check on them in the morning. I drop my phone in the cup holder and start my car. Doubt races through my mind. But I need to stick to this. I know they’ll be a good fit; I just need Sam to let the bonding happen.

Before I can change my mind, I drive back to my house. It’s cold and dark by the time I arrive. I let myself in quickly and check the thermostat. Giving it a tap, I bump up the temp setting and amble into the kitchen. Flicking on the electric teakettle, I set out a mug with honey and some chamomile tea. I’m going to have trouble sleeping tonight. I’m so used to having the dog around, I’m not sure how I’ll feel when it’s bedtime and no dog to snuggle.

My mind drifts to thoughts of Sam and how he could replace the dog with some