LITMIR.BIZ

       THREE

      After a quick tour of the house, Sean agreed to ride with Zoe and Freya rather than drive separately to the grocery store. If she had been anybody other than an armed police officer, he wasn’t sure what he’d have done. He’d been so used to taking care of himself and being the only responsible adult in his son’s life, it felt odd to not stay in full control.

      She glanced over at him and smiled. “What’s wrong?”

      “Nothing.”

      “Right. And I’m Santa Claus. Talk to me, Murphy. I know something’s bugging you.”

      Shrugging, he smiled at her. “Actually, I just realized I can relax a little when I’m with you. It’s hard to accept.”

      “What is? Relaxing or trusting me?”

      “Not being in command. Since I got back to the States, I’ve had to do it all. Believe me, the Shepherds didn’t like most of my decisions.”

      “Such as?”

      Sean lowered his voice and glanced over his shoulder at the backseat where his son and the dog were having a whispered conversation that included a lot of face licking on Freya’s part. “Whether or not to bring Patrick home, for one. They wanted him to either stay in rehab or go to their house for private treatment. When I saw how unhappy he was in the hospital environment and how much better he acted with me, I decided to spring him.”

      “What did his therapists say?”

      It hurt to repeat the negative opinions. “They felt he had made all the progress he probably would, and it didn’t matter whether I left him there or took him with me.”

      “Then you have no reason to feel guilty.” Zoe smiled. “Right?”

      “Right. All I have to do is get my own act together so I can be a good father to him. If I keep having flashbacks, I may have to relinquish custody—for his sake.”

      “And give it to whom? I remember when your mom and dad were killed in that auto accident during my second semester of college.” She arched her brows. “Surely you wouldn’t consider your wife’s parents after what you’ve told me!”

      “No, no. Never them. They’ve already indicated that their idea of handling his problems is to overlook how much he needs love.” Although he wanted to turn his face away and retreat, Sean remained stoic. “I had no idea how bad things had gotten while I was in the service. Sandra told me she’d gone home to her family’s estate because she was lonely, not because she intended to stay stoned all the time and wanted Mommy and Daddy to watch Patrick.”

      “That’s what happened?”

      “Yeah.”

      “So, you asked for a discharge?”

      “It wasn’t that simple. I was on my way to the airport, ready to fly home because of Patrick’s accident, when one of my buddies drove over an IED. The explosion took out half the Humvee and killed two men. I was thrown clear. By the time I got out of the hospital, I’d been diagnosed with PTSD, Sandra had died from an overdose and Patrick was still struggling to recover.”

      “Wow.”

      Sean nodded soberly. “Yeah. My sentiments exactly.”

      “You should be thankful you were able to get him away from your in-laws for this trip. I’m sure they didn’t like it.”

      “I didn’t tell them. They act as though I’m the reason for everything that went wrong.” His jaw set. “Actually, they aren’t the only ones. I had a long layover in Minneapolis during the trip home and used the time to pay a condolence visit to the family of one of the men who’d been with me in the Humvee. They slammed the door in my face. I guess they blamed me since they had no one else around to be mad at.”

      “I’m so sorry.”

      “As they say, ‘No good deed goes unpunished,’ right?”

      Zoe pulled into the supermarket parking lot, found a space and turned to stare at him. “Could they have been responsible for sending the thugs to harm you?”

      “I can’t see why. Or how.”

      “What about Sandra’s folks?”

      “No. Violence is definitely not their way of handling problems. They have enough money to hire the best lawyers and sue for custody if they want me out of the picture.”

      He saw her hands fist on the steering wheel as she asked, “Do you think they might resort to that?”

      “Unless I can get a grip on my flashbacks and prove I’m stable, it’s a possibility. That’s another reason why I need the help of a service dog. I’ve seen for myself what a difference one of those can make. Guys who were hardly able to leave their houses are working again and leading fairly normal lives.”

      “You managed to drive all the way down here. Are you sure you qualify?”

      “I don’t know whether I could have made myself act if it hadn’t been for Patrick,” Sean said flatly. “Whatever I did, I did for him. And that’s what I’ll keep doing for as long as I’m able.”

      She patted the back of his hand. “I believe you.”

      The grocery store was crowded. Zoe grabbed a cart, wiped it down to eliminate germs and stood back. “There you go, Patrick. All ready.”

      The child buried his face against his father’s shoulder and clung to him.

      “Wait right here,” she said. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

      There was no rule against taking her K-9 partner with her anywhere she went. She had left Freya in the car to simplify their shopping trip but could now see that had been a mistake. Freya was Patrick’s temporary service dog, had been since the moment he’d laid a small hand on her back and let her lead him from room to room in the unfamiliar house.

      A working vest identified Freya the way a badge gave Zoe authority. She buckled it on and the dog assumed a more cautious demeanor.

      “Good girl. Heel.”

      Patrick’s face lit with a smile. His eyes twinkled. “Da.”

      “That’s right, Patrick,” Zoe said. “The dog is coming with us. Can you show her how nicely you sit in the cart?”

      She was afraid Sean might balk when it came time to let go. Thankfully, he didn’t. Patrick’s feet slipped through the leg openings, and he grasped the cart handle as if preparing to ride a bucking bronco.

      “Freya will stay right here next to us while we shop,” Zoe said. “Will you help me watch her to make sure she behaves?”

      The child nodded. “Good da.”

      “That’s right. She’s a very good dog.”

      Sean took up a position on the side opposite the dog so they flanked the boy well. Zoe supposed she couldn’t blame him for caution, but some of his choices seemed excessive. Maternal instinct kept insisting that there was no way any child could reach full potential when he or she was kept so close, so guarded, yet she could also identify with the urge to protect Patrick.

      As they worked their way through the store, however, her opinion softened. Sean was gently but firmly requiring the boy to at least try to name whatever food he wanted them to buy. Truth to tell, she would have lost patience if she hadn’t known how important the exercise was.

      “I didn’t think we were ever going to get those tangerines,” she commented on their way to checkout. “You did a wonderful job working through the name.”

      “I watched

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