almost slammed the door shut. She didn’t have the option of hiding in the bathroom forever and she wasn’t about to call Matt for help, again. She needed to face these animals on her own.
“Shoo,” she whispered.
The dog didn’t move. Neither did it attack.
Okay, I’ll take that as a good sign.
Ignoring the flutter in her chest as her pulse quickened, Katie plastered her back up against the wall, her eyes watching the dog. “Stay.”
She inched to the left.
The dog stood.
She froze. Her heartbeat pounding in her ear.
The dog did the opposite of what it was ordered, but it made no attempt to get closer. She wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs once more and took another slow step to the left. The dog moved in the same direction, the nub of its tail wagging slightly.
Katie concentrated on moving slowly as she continued to slide along the hallway wall toward the kitchen. The dog moved parallel with her, never closing the distance, never baring his teeth, not even a growl. If it made one move toward her, she was out of here, no matter what.
A shadow appeared in her peripheral vision. Katie froze again, her eyes never leaving the dog.
“You can keep coming,” Matt encouraged her from where he stood watching the odd ballet between woman and animal.
“I don’t want to move too fast,” she whispered.
She spoke as if she expected the dog to jump on her if she made a wrong move. Despite his reassurance that the animal wouldn’t harm her, she didn’t trust the dog, or it would seem, him, either. Yet she wasn’t backing away.
“Come into the family room when you two finish getting acquainted.” He walked away, leaving her to work past her fear.
Picking up the remote for the television, he sat on the oversized sectional, sipped his mug of hot chocolate, and tried to find a late local newscast. If she wouldn’t give him the details of the car fire, maybe he could get it from the news.
He clicked past the reruns of local choirs singing carols. Katie’s whispered conversation with Rocky and her wishes he would go away, drifted closer and closer. Finally, she stood in the doorway.
“You could have called him.” Irritation laced her words.
“Did he attack you?”
“No,” she mumbled as she eased past the dog in question to sit on the couch’s other end.
“Did he do anything more than follow you?”
“No. He very politely stayed on the hall’s other side all the way here.” A surprised squeak escaped her. She drew her feet on the couch as the Boxer curled up on the floor right beneath her.
Matt shook his head. If her fear weren’t so palpable, it would be funny. “If I had called the dog, you still wouldn’t believe he wouldn’t hurt you. Right?”
“Yes, but…” she started to argue, but he held up one hand to still her words.
“You’re stuck with the dogs and me. At some point you’re going to have to learn to trust us.” He stared intently at her, trying to convince her of his sincerity. “The sooner you do, the sooner I can help you.”
Their gazes held. Heat sizzled between them. For a moment she seemed to want to tell all her secrets, then the wariness and fear returned. She broke the connection, turning onto her side and curling into a ball. Hugging a pillow to her, she focused on the television, blocking him out. For now.
The lady wants to continue her silence. Fine.
Matt muttered a few curses. He preferred things up front. Straight shooting. But he also loved a good puzzle, a mystery. He had a feeling solving the enigma of Katie Myers and her problems would be worth the effort.
Glancing at the silent woman on the couch as he flipped to the all-night news channel, he watched for some sign of recognition in her as the reporters told their stories.
News about a homicide flooded the screen. She continued to watch. The weather came on, and Matt flipped to the next station.
The picture of a white-haired man in an orange jump suit and shackles came on the screen.
On