Miami Attraction

Once the dog was out of the cage and climbing all over Dusty, Mikayla released a breath she’d been holding.

“She likes you.” The slight surprise in Mikayla’s voice indicated that this was not typically the case.

Dusty pushed Angel back down on her bottom and began trying to examine her, while she continued to climb on him, attempting to put her paws over his shoulders. All of a sudden her busy motion stopped and she sat down on her rump, tail wagging, but beyond that she was calm.

Dusty looked at the dog and was surprised to see her just watching him in silence. “She seems in good health.”

After much resistance, he managed to get her mouth open and looked at her teeth. “What is she, about six? Six and a half?”

“I think so.”

He glanced at Mikayla and looked away. What a beauty, he thought, trying to keep his mind on the dog.

He knew about the author and motivational speaker, Mikayla Shroeder. Who didn’t? In fact, he’d read her first book a few years ago. He’d picked it up at the airport, just wanting something to read on the plane while traveling to a veterinarian conference in Portland, Oregon, not realizing at the time that it was Christian inspirational nonfiction. The book, Reclaiming Your Soul, had been a national bestseller within weeks of coming out, and launched the formerly unknown author into instant superstardom. That day in the airport, he had wanted to see what all the fuss was about. In fact, as far as he knew the book was still selling in record volumes.

Surprisingly, he’d enjoyed reading it at the time, but he had given little thought to the author, and what thought he’d given had not come anywhere close to the gorgeous, young woman standing in his office.

She’d only written the one book that he knew of, but nowadays you couldn’t turn on the radio without hearing a promotion for one of her upcoming seminars.

He’d assumed she was older. Much older. Why, he wasn’t sure, just something about the way she wrote spoke of a maturity beyond her years. He thought about the book he’d read and didn’t think there’d been an author photo along with the brief bio.

He was so occupied by his thoughts of Mikayla that what came next took him by surprise. Angel sprang at him in joyful delight, all two hundred pounds of her, and together they hit the floor with Dusty on the bottom.

Before he knew what had happened, Angel was standing on his chest, smiling down at him. She barked once, a loud, happy bark as if to declare she’d won.

“Angel!” Mikayla was pulling on the leash, trying to get the dog off him, but Dusty was more successful in just pushing her to the side and climbing to his feet. Except for a bruised ego, he was none the worse off.

“Bad girl!” Mikayla was scolding her, even as she petted her head. Dusty wondered if she understood how contradictory her actions were.

He dusted himself off. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“You’re disciplining her with words, but rewarding her with action.” He motioned to where her hand was running over the dog’s head. Angel’s tail wagged as she enjoyed the petting.

Mikayla looked down at her hand as if it had taken on a life of it’s own. “I hadn’t even realized it.” She snatched back her hand. “It’s just habit.”

Dusty glanced down at the dog who was once again sitting, this time at her master’s side, her tail still wagging happily.

Dusty thought he better lay down the ground rules now. He’d seen this before. People who could not bear the idea of being apart from their pets for any amount of time. Just watching her behavior with the dog, Dusty thought Mikayla Shroeder might be one of those people.

“Ms. Shroeder—”

“Mikayla.”

“Mikayla, you need to understand that my training methods are different from others. If I accept Angel as a client, she has to stay here with me.”

Her eyes widened. “For how long?”

“Eight weeks.”

“Eight weeks? Why so long?”

He braced his weight against the examination table and folded his arms across his chest. “What I do is less training and more deprogramming. I need to be her complete focus for a while. After two weeks, you can come visit her and then after that I need you to come in once a week for training.”

“What kind of training?” she asked.

“You have to understand that Angel is half the problem. You’re the other half. Your behavior toward her has to change as much as her behavior toward you.”

She glanced down at her dog, who gazed up at her with adoring eyes. “I don’t know about this. Eight weeks is a long time. We haven’t been separated that long, since…I just don’t know.”

Dusty caught the pause, but said nothing. Most people who came to him never went through with the program for this very reason. They did not want to be separated from their pet for such an extended amount of time. But separating them was the only way to get the dog’s complete attention, and getting the dog’s complete attention was the way to retrain them.

“I tell you what.” He walked over to her and took Angel’s leash. “How about I give you a tour of the hospital and training facility and then you make up your mind?”

Chapter 3

Dusty led her down a series of hallways, pointing out the various rooms to her, showing her the hospital was a lot bigger than it looked from the entrance.

“We are a full-service hospital and can accommodate up to twenty-five patients overnight.”

“Are you the only doctor?”

“Yes. I do allow other local vets to use the facility on occasion. We have two operating rooms, both are state-of-the-art in their components.”

The pride in his voice was evident as he guided her around his hospital, and Mikayla couldn’t help but be impressed by the place and the man.

They reached the back entrance where a set of automated double doors led to the emergency entrance. As they walked out of the back entrance it was like they were walking into another world.

From the front entrance the Warren ranch looked like a comfortable tract of land, big enough to hold the hospital and make a kennel, but behind the hospital its secret was revealed. The place was huge.

She stood on a slight incline overlooking acre after acre of green, open fields. In the distance, she could see another tall two-level building, made of the same light brick that the hospital was made of. Beside the two-story building was a smaller building that Mikayla could not quite make out from the distance.

He gestured to two golf carts sitting nearby. “If you want we can take one of the carts, but if you don’t mind I would rather walk.” He gestured to Angel, whom he still held by the leash. “Give her a chance to burn off some of that energy.”

As if sensing the possibility, Angel was pulling at the leash, straining to get out in the open field.

“Lead the way,” Mikayla said, and they headed across the field.

The more she saw, the more impressed Mikayla became. On one edge sat a stable and barn. Several horses pranced and stood in the gigantic pen just outside it. On the opposite end sat a large, three-story brick house.

Once they started walking, Angel stopped pulling at the leash and skipped along, sniffing at various things in the grass and taking in her surroundings. It didn’t escape Mikayla’s notice that Dusty seemed to have her pet well in hand.

Maybe, she thought, his way of doing things, keeping Angel on the ranch for eight weeks, would work. At least, no one had ever tried anything like that before. And she seemed satisfied to stay at his side.

“Do you board horses here?” she asked, gesturing to the stables.

“Yes, but we also raise them. I have some of the finest trainers in the country and three young colts, one of which I think could take a title.”

“Vet, dog trainer and horse breeder. Wow,” she said with a shake of her head. “You’re a busy man.”

“And you’re a busy lady. I have to confess I’ve read your book.”

“Oh? What did you think?”

“It was excellent, very thought provoking. It’s just you seem too young to have such an in-depth understanding of human nature.”

A brief sadness crossed her eyes, and Dusty regretted his words.

“Hard times do not have an age limit.” She pointed toward the large house. “Is that your home?”

He nodded, his attention distracted by Angel who’d gotten wrapped up in the leash. “Yes. I have three dogs of my own, by the way. So along with the dogs in the kennel, Angel will have lots of company and opportunity to interact with other dogs.”

“That would be good. She doesn’t get that chance very often.”

Before she realized it, they had reached the training facility. She glanced back up the hill where the hospital sat, still amazed that the large building somehow hid all this from the main road.

Dusty introduced her to the staff of trainers and gave her an overview of what a typical day would be like for Angel. He showed her the area she would be kept in, and Mikayla had to admit that as far as kennels went, this was quite elegant, with padded floors and more toys than Angel could ever play with.

Outside, she was shown the large play area where several dogs lounged, enjoying the sun.

“Most of the dogs spend the majority of their time outside, so don’t think she will be sitting in a kennel all day.”

She shook her head. “No, I didn’t think that. You have a great place here and I’m sure she would be fine. It’s just we’ve never been apart for very long periods of time.”

Dusty stopped walking and turned to face her. “Mikayla, I can help Angel, but you’re going to have to trust me. I know eight weeks seems like a long time, but it’s the minimal amount of time necessary to deprogram her bad behavior.”

Mikayla glanced around once more, and could find no fault with the ranch. She looked at Dusty and could find no fault with the man. “Okay.” She nodded.

She bent to Angel’s level, and the dog pulled on the leash to get to her. “I wish you could understand that I am not abandoning you.” She kissed the dog’s furry head and fought back the tears.

“I’ll take good care of her. You can come see her in two weeks.”

She stood. “I know.”

“Let me take her inside to Sam and I’ll be right back.”

She nodded and looked away as Dusty led Angel back inside. At the door the dog stopped and looked back at her, expecting Mikayla to follow, and when she did not, Angel turned to go back to her, prompting Dusty to tug on her leash.

The dog finally surrendered and followed the man inside. Once they were out of sight, Mikayla walked to the six-foot fence surrounding the play area and released the tears she’d been holding back.

She knew her behavior would seem extreme to Dr. Warren or anyone there. After all, they would only be separated for eight weeks. But no one else understood what this separation meant. It wasn’t just a few weeks apart, it was a broken promise.

Only one other soul in the world knew the truth, that the relationship between her and Angel went deeper than just owner and pet. They were best friends. Not only friends, they were each others saviors.

On the worst night of her life, five years ago, as she lay bleeding to death in a deserted alley, she’d made a promise to the stray dog that rescued her from her attacker. The dog, even after the attack was over, stood over her wounded body like a sentinel, watching, guarding from all comers.

The dog refused to leave her side, even as the blood from her own injuries coated her fur and dripped onto the concrete. That night, she’d promised the dog a home for life. No one would ever separate them. And now, for the first time she was about to break that promise.

Sure, she took trips to do speaking engagements, but Angel had always remained safe and sound in her own home, knowing Mikayla would return. But this was different. This time, Angel would be living away from her home for two months, and Mikayla had no way to assure her she would return.

She felt like the worst kind of betrayer. Hearing the door open behind her, she swiped at her eyes. This was going to be the longest two weeks of her life.

“Okay, she’s all settled in.” Dusty came up beside her, and the surprised look on his face told her she had not gotten rid of all the evidence of her sorrow.

“Hey, relax. I promise you, Angel’s going to be just fine. I’ve been training dogs for over ten years. I know what I’m doing.”

She forced a smile. “I’m sure you do.”

“Come on.” He gestured to a nearby golf cart. “I want to show you something.”

The pair climbed in and Dusty guided the cart toward his house. The closer they came to the house, the more her tension grew.

“Where are we going?” she asked, looking directly at his house in the distance.

Despite the fact that he was certain she knew, still he pointed to the house. “My home. I have some friends there I want you to meet.”

Her eyes widened in terror, and Dusty could literally feel her fear like it was a tangible thing.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean friends you want me to meet—I just met you!”

“It’s okay, trust me.” Dusty was split between her reaction and the strong emotions swirling in the atmosphere around his head. It was the most bizarre thing, but he knew with complete certainty he was feeling her emotions. And what she was feeling was not good.

“Trust you? I don’t even know you!”

He stopped the cart, and she was instantly out of it, walking quickly back up the hill toward the hospital.

“Mikayla!” he called to her, then turned the cart around and followed until he could come up beside her. “Did I say something wrong?”

She shook her head. “I just remembered something I have to do.”

He stopped the cart again. “I just wanted to introduce you to my dogs!” he called after her.

She stopped in her tracks. She turned to look at him. “Your dogs?”

He hopped out of the cart and walked to her. “I thought if you saw them and heard how far they had come it would be encouraging to you.”

The heavy air surrounding them began to thin as she smiled. “Your dogs.”

The calm expression on her pretty face could not wipe away the terror she’d felt a moment ago. He’d felt it as surely as she did. It was the strangest phenomenon he’d ever experienced, but he knew it was real.

He gestured to the cart. “Do you have time?”

She nodded and climbed back into the cart.

As they approached the house, Mikayla could see it was even bigger than she’d thought. “Wow, what a beautiful home.”

“Thank you.” He stepped out of the cart and waited for her to join him. Together they went along the side of the large house, to the backyard where three dogs, a Labrador retriever, a German shepherd and a Chihuahua all lay on the large open deck, bathing in the sun.

The three together, so different and yet seeming in perfect synch, made a comical trio, and Mikayla couldn’t help but smile.

Dusty gestured to the open area around his house. “As you can see, there is no fence to keep them in. In fact, they are pretty much given free run of the ranch, but nonetheless most days this is where you will find them.

“The big guy is Athos.” He gestured to the German shepherd. “The Labrador is Porthos, and—”

“And let me guess, the Chihuahua is Aramis.”

He smiled in return. “Good guess.”

“The Three Musketeers.”

“After watching them together for a while, I could come up with no better names.”

“Did you get them all at the same time?”

“Yes, and…” His smile faded. “And all were meant to be bait in dog fights.”

She glanced back at the dogs resting on the porch. Only Aramis seemed to be aware of their presence. He lifted his little head and sniffed the air. Satisfied with what he found, he plopped is head back down on the deck.

“When they were rescued, they were all slated to be put down for different reasons. Aramis there was deemed in too bad a shape to survive. Athos had become extremely aggressive and Porthos is said to have psychological problems.

“Even though they thought I was crazy I talked the rescue shelter into letting me adopt them. I brought them home and worked with them. With a little love, time and attention I made them into the worthless fleabags you see before you.”

She laughed. “Wow, what an improvement.”

His smiled faded. “Actually, it is.”

He crossed the yard and once he came into their line of vision all three dogs rose to greet him. “My point is that with a little love, time and attention I think any dog can be retrained.” He sat down on a stair and the dogs surrounded him, with Aramis wiggling past the two bigger dogs to climb onto Dusty’s lap. “You just have to give them a sense of security and safety. Something these dogs had never had.”

Mikayla followed him to the porch and the three dogs wandered over to sniff out the stranger. “I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t give you the impression that I doubted your level of compassion. I don’t. It’s just…” She paused, petting Porthos’s soft gold head and thinking of how much to say to this man who was still a stranger. “Just like you chose their names because it suited them. I named her Angel for a reason.”

Dusty watched her as some light of recognition came into his eyes. “I understand.” He nodded. “Just give me two weeks and see if you don’t see a world of difference.”

She frowned and rubbed Athos under his furry chin.

“What?” Dusty was watching her with narrowed eyes. “What are you thinking?”

She shrugged. “It’s just—I know Angel, and she has a tendency to be…how do I put it? Stubborn.”

Dusty smiled. “So am I.”

“And don’t let her scruffy appearance fool you—she’s very intelligent.”

“Most dogs are.”

“And—” Mikayla found herself wanting to warn Dusty but was unsure of the words “—she can be a bit sneaky.”

He smirked. “Again, most dogs are.” He leaned forward. “Look, Mikayla, I haven’t met a dog I couldn’t train, and I’m sure Angel will be no exception.”

Mikayla thought about her resourceful dog and all the clever little stunts she’d pulled over the years on dog sitters and dog trainers alike. She already knew it was going to be a long two weeks. Still, she decided, this man seemed different, and therefore deserved the benefit of the doubt.

She forced a smile. “I’m sure you’re right.”

Chapter 4

“Dusty Warren?” Kandi Martin, Mikayla’s literary agent and manager, took another bite of her Caesar salad, a slight frown creasing her brow. “I’ve heard that name before, but I can’t remember where.”

“Well, he’s well respected in his field and Angel’s last, best hope.” Mikayla took another sip of the cheese soup she’d chosen as an appetizer. “You should see his facility. It’s really state-of-the-art. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Kandi glanced across the table at her friend. “Sounds like an interesting man. Is he married?”

Mikayla returned the glance, knowing what her friend was asking. “Don’t even go there. This is just about Angel.” She shrugged. “Besides, when would I have time for a man?”

“Some things you make time for.” Reaching into the basket on the center of the table, Kandi took a roll and tore it in half. “It’s about balance.” She held up the two parts of the roll. “The ying and the yang. Work versus play. If you ask me, you have way too much of one and not enough of the other.”

Mikayla reached across the table and snatched one of the halves. “Well, I didn’t ask you, did I?” To emphasize her point, she bit off the roll before placing it on her soup saucer.

As the waiter arrived with their entrées, and removed the soup and salad dishes, Kandi dug around in her large tote bag. “By the way, I received this the other day.” She handed Mikayla an elegant cream envelope.

“What’s this?” Mikayla opened the envelope and read the enclosed card. It was an invitation to speak at an AKA dinner at Bethune-Cookman University. “Oh, definitely.” She handed the invitation back.

“That’s another one of your problems, you spend too much of your time in all-female groupings. How are you gonna meet a potential lover like that?”

“First of all, let me restate, I am not looking for a lover. Second, it’s not my fault mostly women show up for my lectures.”

“Riiiggghhhttt,” Kandi muttered, cutting into her chicken parmesan.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kandi looked up at her friend with a tilted head and a knowing expression. “Come on, this is me you’re talking to. Don’t try to tell me you don’t enjoy getting up in front of a group of women and giving your little I-am-woman-hear-me-roar pep talk. You love it.”

“If by that you mean, do I enjoy empowering women who have been victimized in their own lives for far too long, then yes, I do.” She leaned forward, feeling defensive about her work. “And if my book can help even one woman regain control of her life, then—”

“Hang on, Sojourner.” Kandi held up her hands as if to ward off an attack. “Don’t get me wrong, I love what you do.” She reached across the table and took Mikayla’s hand. “And more importantly, I understand why you do it. I’m just saying you need more in your life than just this…this one-woman crusade you’re on.”

Mikayla sat back in her chair. “I do have more in my life than that.”

Kandi’s mouth twisted in a smirk. “Correction, more than a crusade—and a mangy mutt for companionship.”

Mikayla frowned. “She’s not mangy, she just has weird fur.” She shook her head in confusion, her mind running off in a new direction. “I swear I’ve tried every dog shampoo known to man, and nothing will make her hair lie down like a regular dog.”

Kandi shook the hand she was still holding to regain her friend’s attention. “Hello? Enough about Angel’s bad hair—I’m talking about you.”

“Kandi, I appreciate all your help and advice, but believe me when I say I like my life just the way it is.”

Kandi let go of her friend’s hand and turned her attention to slicing up her chicken parmesan. “That’s because you don’t know any better. You’ve never had a normal relationship with a man, so you can’t possibly know what you’re missing.”

The sudden silence caught her attention and she looked up to find Mikayla looking at her with a betrayed expression.

Her first instinct was to apologize for hurting her friend, but then she paused. As a policy, Kandi made a point of never apologizing for the truth, and if anyone needed to hear the truth it was Mikayla.

What started as a working relationship five years ago when Kandi signed Mikayla to a book contract had blossomed into one of the dearest relationships in her life, and she loved the younger woman sitting across from her like a little sister. But her little sister had scars. Scars left over from a vicious attack and the life before it. And until Mikayla confronted the ghost of her past those scars would never heal.

After the silence lingered a bit, Kandi muttered, “You know I don’t apologize for the truth.”

“Your truth is subjective,” Mikayla countered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“As long as I was pumping out bestsellers you couldn’t care less about my loveless lifestyle. Now that I’ve hit a wall, what’s your sage advice? Get a lover.”

Kandi pointed her fork at Mikayla. “That is so unfair. This is not the first time we’ve had this conversation. And it’s not like I brought this up.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t!”

Kandi placed her fork on the table and folded her hands under her chin. “Describe this veterinarian.”

“What?”

“The vet, Angel’s best and last blah, blah, blah. Describe him. What does he look like?”

“How did we get back to him?”

Kandi arched an eyebrow. “That’s where this conversation started, and that’s where it will end. Now, describe him.”

Mikayla shrugged. “I don’t know. Good-looking, I guess.”

“Be specific.” Kandi picked up a forkful of steam cooked string beans. “You’re a writer for goodness’ sake, give me some details.”