Free Woman On the Run by Lisa Marie Rice

the couch’s arm.
    “Nope.”
    “What then?”
    “Sprained. And someone’s been mistreating him badly.” Cooper made some reassuring sounds in a deep low voice to the dog that even had Julia lulled, then looked up again. “He have a name?”
    “No. I told you. He just showed up this evening.”
    “Needs a name.” Cooper gently ruffled the matted fur between the dog’s ears.
    “Ahm…” The mangy, yellow-haired dog was as far away from her sleek Siamese, Federico Fellini, as it was possible to be. Still…the mutt had four legs and a head, just like Federico. Close enough. “Fred. I want to call him Fred.”
    “Fred it is. Hey, Fred.” Cooper let the dog sniff his fingers once again. “He’ll be all right in a few days if he keeps his weight off that paw. Couple of good meals and a warm place to sleep is all he needs.” Cooper picked out a burr then stood up suddenly. Julia craned her neck to look up at him.
    “Are you going?” She had a sudden, unexplained panicky feeling.
    “No.” He looked down at her a moment, expressionless, and she found herself wishing she could read what he was thinking, though she probably wouldn’t like it. His thoughts probably ran along the lines of how best to exit gracefully from a madwoman’s house.
    He opened the door and disappeared. It was night now, and Julia caught a glimpse of darkness and windborne needles of sleet slanting across the light thrown by the streetlamp. Before she had time to feel the cold from the door he was back, holding a first aid kit.
    “Does that come from the magic pickup, too?”
    Again, she had a fleeting impression of a smile. “Yup.”
    Cooper knelt down to Fred and started murmuring again, soothing, senseless noises. Julia was astonished to see that the dog made no protest, even when Cooper examined the forepaw carefully and wrapped an elastic bandage around it tightly. There was a deep scratch on the right haunch and though Fred whined when Cooper examined it carefully, he didn’t move. Cooper cleaned the wound, but didn’t bandage it.
    Julia leaned over the arm of the sofa and watched Cooper with interest. He worked quickly, quietly and competently.
    “What do you suppose happened to him?”
    Cooper sat back on his heels, stretching the jeans. Julia carefully kept her eyes on his face. This sudden fascination with his lower body was embarrassing. Her life had become low-rent enough as it was. She was terrified of turning into the kind of woman who got horny and went to bars to proposition men.
    “Car accident most likely,” he said. “Either hit by a car or thrown out of one.”
    Julia sucked in her breath sharply in outrage. “Thrown out! You mean someone would deliberately throw an animal out of a moving car?”
    “Yup. Happens all the time. Someone thought they wanted a pet, then changed their mind. Fred is definitely someone’s dog, though. Or was. Got good clean lines, probably make a good hunter.” Cooper’s large hand brushed the top of Fred’s head, thumb idly scratching behind his ears. Fred’s bushy tail thumped heavily.
    “If you say so.” Julia looked doubtfully at Fred. The good lines, if they were there, were hidden beneath dirty, matted fur. “I’m not a dog person myself and I really have no intention of keeping him. I just felt sorry for him tonight.”
    Cooper stood up and stuck his hands in his back jeans pockets. “Might want to keep him for a while. Be company when you…” He stopped suddenly.
    “When I fall apart?” Julia asked dryly. “I assure you, Mr. Cooper, I’m not in the habit of falling to pieces every evening.”
    “Didn’t think you were, ma’am.” He shifted his weight from one dusty boot to another, graceful even when embarrassed. “And the name’s Cooper.”
    Julia tilted her head as she examined him. “Doesn’t anyone call you by your first name? What is it? Sam?”
    “Yup. But most everyone calls me Coop.”
    “Even when you were a child? What did your mother call