No Easy Target

She nodded. “Is she going to lose them?”


“I don’t know. She’s severely malnourished. But I’ve seen cases like this where the unborn pups managed to survive by taking enough nourishment from the mother. She might have saved her pups by giving them what they needed at her own expense. But I’m not detecting movement. We probably won’t know until it’s closer to her time. But we have to make sure that we keep pumping nutrients into her. I’ll write you a prescription and you can—”

“You said that you knew her. You took care of her?”

He nodded. “From the time that she was a puppy. Great dog. Adored that little girl. It was wonderful to see them together.”

“Little girl,” Margaret said. The name that had been in the back of Juno’s mind all the time they had been linked. “Celia…”

“You know the family?”

“Sort of. Juno belonged to Celia?”

He nodded. “Her parents gave Juno to Celia for Christmas when she was about eight years old. She loved that dog. They were inseparable. A few months ago, she told her parents that she thought Juno would be happier if she had her own puppies, and so they arranged to breed her.” He shrugged. “I’m glad she had her for those two years. A dog can enrich life. Juno certainly enriched Celia’s.”

“Only two years?”

“That’s all Celia had.” He glanced at Juno in the anteroom with the tech. “She was in a car accident when she was ten and was in the hospital for three weeks before she died. Her parents even got permission to take Juno to the hospital. They thought she might help to give Celia a reason to live. They were trying everything they knew to keep her alive.”

“But it didn’t work,” Margaret said sadly. “Sometimes there’s nothing you can do.”

Sadness.

Loss.

Pain.

“How did Juno get down in that mine?”

He shrugged. “I have no idea. I only know that after Celia died, her parents couldn’t stand to even look at Juno any longer. The dog was mourning and they had to coax her to eat. And she was such a painful reminder of their daughter that they found it unbearable. A month after Celia’s funeral, they gave her to a young couple who were moving to Brownsville, Texas.” He added, “If I had to guess, I’d say that probably Juno ran away from them on the trip up there and came back here to everything she knew.”

Even though the most important person in her world was no longer here for her. “That would be my guess, too,” Margaret said. “And who knows why she wandered into that mine. As you said, she’s mourning.” She looked at Juno. “So Celia’s parents wouldn’t want Juno back, and Juno ran away from two virtual strangers. If that couple didn’t go to the trouble of looking for her, then they didn’t really want her, either.”

He nodded. “Though we could try to contact them and—”

“No, Juno knows that nobody wants her. We can’t throw her back to them.”

“She knows?”

“You’re a good doctor. You know that dogs sense things.”

Sadness.

Loss.

“Is it okay if I go in to see her?” Margaret asked.

“I don’t see why not.” He smiled. “After all, you probably saved her life.”

“She saved it herself. Maybe she didn’t want to do it, but there’s always instinct.” She went into the anteroom, where Juno was lying on a mat on the floor. She was clean now and her white coat gleamed under the strong lights. Lassiter was right: She was beautiful. Her huge dark eyes appeared to glow against that shiny white coat. But she didn’t lift her head when Margaret came into the room.

You’re going to be better now. The doctor said that you have to eat, though. You were probably not eating well even before this happened. It has to stop. You have to save the pups.

Juno still didn’t look at her. Loss.

Sadness.

Not better.

Not wanted.

Margaret knelt down beside her. You are wanted. I want you. And there will be others who want you. The pups will want you.

Gone.

I know she’s gone. Or maybe she’s not. Maybe she’ll always be with you. Love has a habit of staying around even if you can’t see or smell or hear it. But you can’t know unless you stop feeling sorry for yourself.

Sadness.

Yes, and it won’t go away; it will always be part of you. But it can still be good. And it’s time to think of the pups now. You thought of them when you were down in the mine, or you wouldn’t have called out to me. But you’re not finished yet. Celia wanted you to have these pups. She thought they’d bring joy to both of you.

Gone.

I’ve already told you that you don’t know that. But you do know what she wanted you to do. You’re not alone. I’m here to help you.

But you’re not her.

I know I’m not. But we can get through this together. You may even get to like me. Then, after the pups come, we’ll take another look to decide what you need to do. What she’d want you to do.

Confusion. Pain. Sorrow.

Juno?

She lifted her head at last and looked at Margaret. Maybe …

Not maybe. Trust me. Just do as I say and we’ll be fine. First, you eat. Then, when you’re better, exercise. Then we’ll go on from there. Okay?

Silence.

Okay? You’ll do as I say? We stay together? It’s what she would want.

Silence. Yes. We stay together. A pause. But you’re not her.

A tentative victory at best. But it was a victory.

Though she wasn’t certain Lassiter would consider it a triumph in any meaning of the word.

*

“How’s she doing?” Lassiter rose to his feet as Margaret came into the waiting room. “Was the leg broken?”

“No, just a sprain.” She looked at her watch. “It’s almost one. I suppose you’re eager to get going. I didn’t mean to delay you. Where’s Cambry?”

“I sent him to gas up the plane and get ready for takeoff.” He tilted his head. “Are you ready to go?”

“Almost. I have to get some prescriptions and nutrition supplements for Juno and then thank the doctor for his help. He’s a very good doctor. And he’s taken care of Juno since she was a few months old.”

“I gathered that when you brought the dog in and he welcomed her so enthusiastically. So he must know the owners. Is he going to return Juno to them?”

“Not exactly.”

He gazed at her warily. “And what does that mean?”

“Completely wrong,” she said bluntly. “We’re taking Juno with us.”

He stiffened. “I beg your pardon.”

“I told you that Juno has problems. Her owner was a ten-year-old child who died only a couple months ago. Juno is in mourning for her. Her parents are finding it too painful to keep her dog.” She paused. “And she’s going to have pups probably in the next few weeks. We have to keep her eating and healthy.”