“All right, you two. Move over and let me have a look.”
Shane pressed his fingers to the pale skin of her throat, relieved to find a pulse. Slow and steady, it seemed much stronger than her shallow breathing. Fortunately, an ambulance would be here soon. “Danica?” He smoothed her red-gold hair back from her face, trying to ignore the silky texture against his fingertips. “Can you hear me?”
One of the puppies whined, his tail sweeping across Danica’s face as he strived for Shane’s attention, and the other shoved his head under Shane’s elbow, seeking comfort. “She’ll be fine.” He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince the puppies or himself.
Glancing back, he saw Stumps watching as if such raucous displays were beneath him. When his corgi was working, that was true enough, yet Shane made sure he got plenty of time each day just to be a dog and give his innate silliness an outlet.
Drawing the puppies aside, he continued to look Danica over. She was slightly built, but her confidence in the training classes gave her such a big presence he always forgot that she was short. Lying at such an awkward angle, her hair tangled, she looked almost breakable. His temper flared at the idea of anyone assaulting her.
There was no sign of blood and he struggled against the urge to straighten out that bent leg. He wouldn’t risk moving her, in case there were injuries from the fall that he couldn’t see. Nearby, a siren wailed and flashing lights darted into the night sky. The police department was nearby but an ambulance dispatched from the hospital on the other side of town might take a bit longer.
“She’ll be fine,” he said again, gathering the leads on the puppies. He should take them back into a kennel, yet he didn’t want to leave her out here alone.
Needing a distraction, Shane picked up the puppies. “Stumps, come.” The corgi hustled into action, stopping at Shane’s foot. “Seek.”
He didn’t have any better direction to give the dog. If there was something that didn’t belong in the area, Stumps would find it. The stocky legs carried him all around Danica, and he snuffled where the puppies had rubbed against Shane’s running shoes and jeans.
As he systematically explored the rest of the yard, Shane soothed the puppies and tried to sort out what had happened that Danica landed just like this.
She moaned, her limbs shifting slowly as if she was moving through thick sand. The puppies squirmed in his arms, eager to reach her. Shane was surprised how much he shared the sentiment. He kept a firm hold on the puppies as her eyelids fluttered open. Eyes he knew to be the pale green of springtime stared up at the sky before darting about, finally landing on him.
“Relax, Danica,” he said. “You’re safe now.”
Danica knew that voice. Shane. Through the fog in her mind, she wondered why she wouldn’t be safe. This was Red Ridge. She’d always been safe here. She blinked, or tried to. Her eyelids were so heavy they just wanted to stay closed. Maybe she should give in. Sleep sounded like a good plan. Her arms and legs felt as if they were weighted or buried. As she rolled her head from side to side, her neck ached and the scent of grass tickled her nose. How had she wound up out here on the ground?
“What happened?” The words were hard to get past her parched lips. And why was he here?
“Stay still,” that deep voice rumbled, dark as the night sky overhead. “Help is almost here.”
“Help?” It didn’t sound like the worst idea to wait, but her pride was taking a beating as she lay here while he stood over her. She heard the yip of puppies and recalled the new Malinois. “Are you holding the new puppies?”
She would like a better look at the tough, inscrutable Shane holding a couple of energetic three-month-olds. Ignoring her aching muscles, she tried to make out his expression through the weak light and her blurry vision. She knew he lived nearby, but she was a Gage. It seemed more likely Shane would be here to gloat over a Gage in trouble than help her out of any crisis.
He didn’t like her or anyone in her family—with good reason.
Her gaze moved to the wriggling Malinois pups, one cradled on each of his forearms, his large hands supporting their chests. “Where is Stumps?” She tried to take a deep breath and sit up. Her body fought her on both actions.
“Stay put,” Shane said. “Stumps is working.”
This time when she looked up, she could see the hard line of his square jaw and the grim set of his lips. His blue eyes would be stern and cold. It was the expression she privately referred to as judge and jury. Since his return to Red Ridge several years ago, he seemed to look at the world through that singular mien. “Why are you here?” she asked. Of everyone in the RRPD, why did Shane have to be the first at her side? And who had called him in?
“I guess I’m that kind of lucky,” he replied.
Her thoughts were too muddled to make sense of any of this. Ignoring his suggestion to stay put, she sat up. “How did the puppies get out?”
“I assume you brought them out,” Shane replied, lowering himself to a knee as puppy feet pawed at air, scrambling to get close to her. “Do you remember anything?”
She took one puppy into her arms, soothing herself as much as the dog as she tried to think. “Not really.” Her eyesight cleared much faster than her mind. Logic said she was on the overnight shift for the new arrivals, but her memory was a blur. “Who called the RRPD?”
“I did.” His sandy eyebrows drew together. “Stumps and I were on a walk and he sensed something wrong here in the yard. RRPD and an ambulance should be here any minute.”
She glanced around for Stumps and found him sitting in an alert position, his gaze trained on the door to the kennels. “I’ll thank him later.” She tipped her head toward the building. “Looks like he’s still on the job.”
Shane’s expression tightened even more. “Is there another way inside?” he asked, his voice low at her ear.
“Only the front and back doors you know about.”
“Where is the ambulance?” he wondered aloud.
“You need to investigate,” she said.
“I don’t want to leave you out here alone.” He scowled. “Do you think you can stand?”
At her nod, he helped her to her feet, both of them dodging the antics of the excitable puppies. When she had the leads in hand and the puppies under control, they walked to the door where Stumps waited.
“Hang on.” He drew his gun. He and the dog went through the door first. He moved into the shadows, peering down each row. “Hit the lights,” he called.
She did. Several of the younger dogs were restless, whining, barking or up and pacing in their crates. The fully trained dogs sat quietly, or were stretched out, curious but patient. Somewhere out of sight, a beagle bayed pitifully. Danica recognized the voice of Stella, a sweet-natured two-year-old being trained for a tracking career.
Shane walked back into view, squinting against the bright glare of the fluorescent lights with Stumps trotting at his heel. “Best way to your office?”
She was a little surprised he didn’t know. “Straight ahead, through the door, second door on the right. Shouldn’t we kennel the puppies?”
“Not