Chapter 6

Bethany drove back to Michael's place, her heart throbbing with sadness. Both she and Michael had been ripped off, but one was much more devastating than the other. When she checked out her pockets, she found some cash on her. As they went back in Michael's house, she got in just ahead of them and wandered into the kitchen to see what he had for food, then winced because there was really nothing. Not even milk for a cup of tea. As soon as the men got inside, she looked over at Michael and asked, "Did you give Page a grocery list?"

He nodded. "Yeah, and it was pretty long too because I'd been fighting to get him to go shopping, as we're down to nothing," he said sadly.

"Any chance that you have a copy of the list lying around?"

"I don't have a copy, and who knows what he did with it." Michael eyed her shrewdly. "Why?"

"I'll go get you some groceries, but I don't know what you want."

He shook his head. "I don't need charity."

She snorted. "It's hardly charity," she argued, "and we all need help at some point in time. I don't even have a receptionist for tomorrow now because mine was too busy stealing for her boyfriend to do her job," she added, with an eye roll.

His shoulders slumped and in a formal voice he replied, a bit too low, "I won't accept charity, but, if you could possibly lend me a little bit of money,… I would be very grateful."

She nodded. "We can do it that way, if you want," she murmured, "but I still need to know what to get you."

He frowned, as he looked around. "I really need coffee. I didn't get any today."

She stared at him intently. "What kind of coffee would you want?"

He shrugged. "Whatever is cheapest honestly. That's all I can afford."

She winced, realizing just how rough things were looking for him. Then she sat down with a piece of paper that she snagged from the coffee table. "Okay, let's go through some of the groceries you'll need."

By the time she got that done, she hopped up and turned to the front door. "I'll head out now, get you all this stuff, and then we'll go from there."

He sighed. "You don't have to do this, you know?"

She looked over at him and smiled. "I don't have to do anything," she stressed, "but sometimes it's good to do something nice for someone. I'm not impressed with what's happening in my corner of the world either, but it makes me happy to help you."

With that, she stepped outside. As she went to close the door behind her, Conall was there and shoved a couple hundred dollar bills in her hand.

"Use this." She looked at it, frowning, and he shook his head. "Don't even start with me, or I'll give you the same argument you just gave Michael."

She groaned. "I can cover it, you know?"

"I know," he replied, studying her. "Believe me that there isn't a veteran out there I wouldn't help if I could."

Such anger and sincerity filled his tone that she nodded, realizing that this had hit Conall hard too and on a level that she couldn't even assess or understand. She didn't have any experience with military, active or ex, and to think that this brotherhood would help Michael perked her up.

"Is there any way you can help him?" she whispered.

"Working on it," he muttered. "I'm not sure what our options are yet, though." He sighed. "Go ahead and get the groceries."

She nodded and hopped into her vehicle. It took her a good forty minutes at the grocery store to sort through the few things that he relayed to her and to add some other things she thought he could use. She texted him several questions, and. by the time she had a hefty load bought and paid for and was loading it into her car, time had really raced by. When she pulled into Michael's driveway, Conall came out and helped her unload.

"I went through the cupboards and started a spaghetti sauce of sorts," he shared, "but Michael could really use a cup of coffee, and he was wishing he'd put cookies on the list."

She chuckled. "I did pick up some cookies, so I'm hoping he'll be okay with my choice."

He smiled. "That was one thing about my granddad. He ate very healthy most of the time, but, damn, he wanted his cookies."

She laughed, loving that. "I think that, given what they've been through, if they want a cookie, they should be allowed a damn cookie."

"Agreed."

Once inside, she sniffed the air. "Wow, are you telling me that you cook too?"

"Not only does he cook," Michael perked up, wheeling into the kitchen, "it smells divine." He looked back at him. "You need a place to stay by any chance?"

Conall looked over at him. "I'm staying at the motel,… but I could stay here if you would rather." He thought about it and then shrugged, looking from one to the other. "That's not a bad idea."

As she thought about it, she nodded. "It is a great idea because that nephew of his is bound to come back."

"He won't hurt me though," the old man declared immediately. "I know that."

She turned to Michael and smiled. "He may not want to hurt you or may not think he will, but he's already inflicted great pain. So I don't know where in his mind that hurt stops and starts."

The words hit the old man like a blow, and he sucked in his breath, slowly nodding. "You do pack a punch sometimes, girl."

She looked over at Conall, who was on the phone with his motel and very quickly had things arranged. Disconnecting, he told Michael, "It's all good. I'll be your roommate for a few days."

Michael smiled. "I don't suppose you want to hear a couple war stories, do you?"

"Hey, I've got some of my own to tell too," he stated, with a grin.

Michael caught the expression on Bethany's face. "Don't worry," he told her. "We'll be fine."

She nodded. "I know, but honestly I was planning on taking Conall's offer to work for me tomorrow."

Conall burst out laughing. "I'm pretty sure I can do both."

"Okay, good," she said, "at least for tomorrow."

"What's this all about?" Michael asked.

She explained and Michael nodded. "Yeah, you really don't want anybody at your clinic who doesn't have the animals' interests at heart," Michael noted. "I really, really do want Bacchus back again."

"That is still something we'll have to sort out sooner rather than later," Conall agreed, shaking his head, "but first you'll have a hot meal." He asked, "What time of day do you normally sleep?"

"Well, two o'clock in the afternoon for a nap," he shared, with a snort. "For bedtime, I like to get to bed around nine. It depends on whether I catch any sleep at night or not."

"You're not sleeping either?"

He shook his head. "No, haven't slept well in a very long time."

"Of course you haven't," Conall murmured, as if that were the most normal thing in the world.

Bethany frowned. That would be something she would ask him about.

Conall turned to her and added, "I made enough spaghetti for you too."

Her eyebrows shot up, and Michael looked at her with a big smile. "It would be lovely to have company," he admitted shyly.

She immediately nodded, knowing there was no way to turn down an invitation like that. Looking over at Conall, she smiled. "It smells wonderful."

"Good, sit down," he said, with a smile. "Dinner's ready, just let me finish putting a final touch on it," he added, as he did a taste test and then nodded. "Let's grab plates and cutlery and sit down to eat."

Together, the two of them set the table and got Michael in place, where a plate of spaghetti was put before him. He looked at it in amazement. "If you could bottle this, I could eat this way every day."

"I made enough for you to have three to four days of it," Conall stated. "However, considering I'll be here for a few days, I would suggest that we freeze these leftovers, so you'll have a few meals set aside. Then I'll cook more meals the next couple days, where we can freeze those leftovers too, while I'm here. That way, when I leave, you'll be set for a bit."

Michael frowned, seemingly perturbed. "I really don't want to be a bother."

"Oh, I know. I hear it in your voice," Conall replied, with a smile. "But I also know that my old granddad would have my head on a platter if I didn't do this for you. We veterans have to stick together. It's a tough-enough world, so we should help each other when we can." Conall smiled. "Besides, absolutely no reason not to."

"You're right there," Michael whispered, "but it does seem like a long time since anybody cared."

"That will change, starting today," Bethany interjected. "Don't you worry. We've got your back."

He looked over at her, gave her half a smile, and nodded. "Sweetheart, you can have my back anytime you want."

She burst out laughing. "And I bet you were quite the ladies' man in your day."

"What do you mean, in my day?" he asked with a broad smile, as he pounded his wheelchair.

And that set the tone for dinner.

As soon asBethany left, and, with Michael in much better spirits, Conall turned to him and asked, "Now, do you want to get settled in your room, or are you okay out here? I want to go out and do some hunting for the War Dog."

"Go hunt the dog," Michael said immediately. "I'm good right here. I've been alone for a long time. I'll be just fine."

"I know you have. Sometimes being alone is good, and sometimes being alone is damn hard," Conall noted. "I do want to get out and get some idea of where that dog could have gone."

"I've got no clue," Michael muttered.

"Do you have any idea where the dog has been going during the day?" Conall asked in a casual tone. "That is most likely where he's ended up."

Michael frowned. "I didn't even think about that." He shook his head. "I should have, damn it.… I should have."

"Let's not worry about the should haves now. Let's just think about where Bacchus has gone because, if nobody's seen him out and about, it's possible that he may be doing just fine in his new location."

"I wonder," he muttered, waving him off.

Conall quickly walked outside, stopped at the door, and looked back at Michael. "Does your nephew have his own keys?"

Michael frowned and then nodded. "Yeah, but I never really lock my doors anyway."

"Tonight we'll lock them when we go to bed," Conall suggested, "and we'll get the locks changed tomorrow."

Michael's shoulders slumped, as he stared at him. Then he slowly nodded. "I guess we need to, huh?"

"Yes, I would say so," Conall agreed. "I don't know what Page has got to say for himself, but he won't be taking any more from you."

A smile cracked Michael's face. "You won't let up on him, will you?"

"No, I sure won't," he declared. "Give me a couple hours and try to get some rest, if you can."

With that, Conall hopped into his truck and pulled out of the driveway. He wasn't even sure where to start, but heading out from the vet's clinic would be a good place.

He parked in the parking lot, wondering at his impulse to volunteer to handle her front desk tomorrow, but considering that some of this chaos was partly his fault, he felt that he needed to step in. Besides, Bethany was damn cute, and she was also the kind of person who he could appreciate.

And, for him, he believed that one good turn deserved another.

As he got out and walked around the parking lot, he got a phone call. He answered it to find Badger checking in. "Not much to say. I'm tracking right now," Conall greeted him. "So far, the only things I know are that this little town is dying, it's got way-too-many bullies, and I've been lied to one time too many already."

Badger laughed. "Keep me updated." Then he disconnected.

The next call came from Bethany.

"What are you doing in my parking lot?" she asked in exasperation.

He snorted. "I'm glad you've got cameras."

"Yes, I've got cameras, and I was just absentmindedly clicking through, trying to process everything. I wasn't even paying attention, and suddenly I see you wandering around."

"With everything else going on, I can't forget the reason I'm here."

"Bacchus," she said.

"Yeah, Bacchus."

"What will you do here?"

"I'm checking to see if there are any tracks."

"It's been weeks though," she explained.

"I know, and that's part of the problem. It's been weeks. So, the question is,… why has nobody seen him?"

There was silence on the other end at first. "Do you really think Mel knows something?"

"She won't be too willing to talk to us."

"No, she won't, especially now that her father's on the rampage and is ready to kick her out of the house."

"So she didn't leave with Page? Boy, I bet she's mad. And I'm not against her father kicking her out now too," Conall added. "Mel apparently doesn't have any life skills or a very good check on reality. How else will she get that unless somebody kicks her out on her own and sees what happens?"

Bethany sighed. "I'm sure that's exactly what'll happen to her. Unfortunately, as you saw, she's blind to what real life is like."

"I know, but we can't take on her care as well as everybody else's right now," he stated. "What I'm looking for is the War Dog."

"Do you want me to come down there and take a look?"

"Didn't you take a look already?"

"I did," she confirmed. "I immediately walked for what seemed to be hours, calling for him, but there was just nothing. I didn't get any wind of anything, and that really concerned me. I thought at one point that something might have gotten him, but Bacchus is big and in good shape."

"Still, do you have wolf problems here?" Conall asked, turning, looking around. "That would be about the only wild animal that could take him down."

"No wolves that I know of," she murmured, "at least I hope not."

He smiled. "As far as I know there aren't. I did some research on that before I got here, but you never really know."

"Bacchus is pretty big and healthy, but he is missing a leg."

"Yes, and there is always that. It was one of the reasons that he was given to Michael in the first place, since Michael is missing a leg as well."

"Everybody loves Bacchus," she said. "It just breaks my heart to think that something happened to him."

"Something has happened to him. The question is whether it's bad or not." And, on that cryptic note, he added, "I'll call you back later, if I find something."