“The profits?” she repeated. From breeding dogs? She hoped that after expenses she would break even. But that was a big if, considering no
t all of the pups would be like Foxtrot and his brother Charlie. Only the top dogs would sell to the military or even police departments. If she saw profits from the business, enough to cover her expenses and then some, she planned to reinvest the money, maybe hire another trainer or buy a second female dog with strong bloodlines from overseas. Or maybe she would just be lucky to afford dog food and groceries.
“Our son is a lawyer in Portland, and he works with small businesses. Kevin. He was two years behind you in school. I’m sure he would be willing to help you start a charity fund.”
Mrs. Hardwick released her hand, and Amy’s arms dropped to her sides. The cookies fell to the grass. They wanted her to give away the money she made from her business?
“We hadn’t given it much thought,” her mother-in-law said, filling the silence. “We’ve been so busy preparing for today.”
Amy stared at the broken cookies, the jam sticking to the blades of grass. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, reaching for Jango’s collar. “I don’t want him to be tempted. By the cookies.”
The Hardwicks looked down at Jango and then up at her, their faces lined with sympathy.
“I’m sorry, dear,” Marie said. “I should have waited until another time. Today must be so hard for you.”
“It’s not that,” Amy began. But what could she say that didn’t make her sound awful and selfish? “Jango’s gluten-free. The cookies will make him ill.”
Amy fled before the Hardwicks’ sympathy turned to confusion. She moved through the crowd, not stopping or making eye contact. The space grew smaller and smaller, shrinking, tightening, pushing the people closer. It was like fighting through a maze.
Amy reached the edge of the tent and wrapped her hand around a tent pole to keep herself from tumbling over. From here, she could hear the dogs barking in the kennel, begging to join the party, to play, to chase. She wanted to join them, hold them close, forget this day that had started with a happiness she hadn’t felt in so long and descended into this confused, trapped place.
“Amy.” A hand touched her shoulder, and she flinched. The deep, familiar voice moved closer, surrounding her, as if trying to protect her from the people under the tent. “It’s just me. Mark.”
She turned to him—Mark—the one person who understood her, who didn’t expect perfection.
“Hey, you don’t look so hot,” he said, keeping his hand on her shoulder.
“Thanks,” she said. “Now I feel ready to get up in front of hundreds of people.”
“You’re beautiful, and red was a great choice,” he said, giving her shoulder a light squeeze. “But you look pale, Amy. And you were running away from your party.”
Amy stared past him into the tent. “I dropped a plate of cookies.”
“I can see how that would be upsetting,” he said, leaning close. “I know how hungry you must be, seeing as you refused to eat the leftover fries this morning, but that doesn’t mean you need to leave.”
Amy laughed, the panic of the event gradually receding.
“That’s better. I like seeing you happy.” His thumb traced small circles over her collarbone, dipping below the high neckline of her dress.
“You can’t,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “If someone sees.”
“My hand on your shoulder?” He raised an eyebrow.
“It’s more,” she said, feeling his thumb run across the top of her breast.
“You and I know that, but no else. It’s our secret.” He withdrew his hand. “And I think we’re safe for now.”
Amy stared into his brown eyes. This man possessed a seemingly endless reserve of strength, always there for her when she needed to lean on someone. But he wasn’t permanent. She couldn’t forget that.
“You’re leaving.”
He shook his head. “No, I’ll stay until the end. I already told Mrs. Benton I would help clean up.”
“I didn’t mean the party,” she said. “You’re leaving Heart’s Landing, redeploying.”
“Not right now, Amy. Today, I’m here for you. Promise.”
They’d said no promises, no strings, but this was one she wanted to keep, holding it close, taking comfort from those words. She wished she could take his hand and lead him away from all of this—