Page 31 of Surly Sheriff
“What’s that?” Rae asked, looking from the dog marking his new environment to Beau lifting the final item from the truck. At first glance it looked like a metal gate, but then it struck her — a flattened cage.
A cage!
“No,” she yelled, that same inexplicable fear from the other day at the clinic flooding her.
Beau pivoted, dropping the mesh panels. “What?”
An image flashed in her mind.
A long windowless hallway, cages lining the sides, filled with—
She cried out when something grabbed her upper arms.
“Fuck, Rae. You’re white as a sheet.”
The deep voice penetrated the terror holding her captive.
She shoved the imagery from her mind and found Beau’s concerned face filling her vision. “Wh-what h-happened?”
“Besides scaring the shit out of me?” Beau released his grip on her arms. “You screamed and then lost all your color. Thought you were going to pass out. What happened?”
She swept a trembling hand through her hair, unsurprised to find it slightly damp, and pulled in a deep breath. Kismet nudged her side. Exhaling, she dropped her arm, her fingertips brushing over the dog’s head, and glanced at the discarded mesh panels before focusing on Beau. “I don’t know,” she admitted.
It was the truth. She had no idea where her sudden distress with the cage originated.
But one thing shedidknow. “I donotwant that” — she looked at the source of her agitation — “in the cottage.”
Beau twisted his neck, following her line of sight. “Kismet’s cage?”
She shuddered. “No way is Kismet going in a cage.”
“We need to contain—”
“No cage, Beau.” She tried infusing authority in her voice, but the result was a husky plea.
He gave her a narrow-eyed stare before nodding. “Okay. No cage.”
She stayed rooted in place until Beau placed the source of her distress back in the truck bed. Kismet licked her fingers. Raecrouched down and hugged the dog, using the time to get her emotions under control. “You don’t need a freaking cage.”
Scuffed boots appeared in her peripheral vision. “Ready?”
Rae stood and looked at the place she would call home for the next four weeks. The cottage was a smaller, single level copy of the red brick American Foursquare main house. A deep porch, furnished with wicker chairs and potted plants, fronted the little home, inviting a person inside. A bit of the excitement she felt when first viewing it returned, and Rae acknowledged that she was looking forward to living here.
She chanced a side-eye at Beau.
Urgh. He wasstilllooking at her with concern. And she didn’t blame him. She was a freakshow. “I’m good. Really. Just don’t see a need to cage a dog.” She grabbed his hand. “Come.”
Together they mounted the two steps to the porch and crossed to the front door. Beau opened the screen door, and Rae inserted and turned the key. She pushed open the glass-paneled door, and Kismet rushed ahead, ready to explore his new home.
Beau stretched his arm out, stopping her. “Wait.”
Then he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the house.
“Beau! What on earth?”
He placed her back on her feet and gave her a sheepish look. Even the dim interior light couldn’t mask the red infusing his skin. “Seemed like the right thing to do,” he muttered and walked deeper into the house, leaving her gaping after him.
But the confounding man was studying the room with intense interest. “Knew most of the folk around these parts, what with growing up here, but not these people. Why are they selling?”
