Free janet dailey- the healing touch by Janet Dailey Page A

closed on the holidays.
    When he stepped outside the back door, locking it behind him, he heard a strange sound that interrupted his frantic planning session. A tiny, high-pitched whimper, coming from the garage area.
    Curious, he took a flashlight from his trunk and followed the sound, trying to find its source. It didn't take long.
    There, shivering beneath the Dumpster, was a tiny black puppy. The pup yelped with fright as Michael reached down and picked it up.
    "Hey, what are you doing under there? Where's Mom and the other kids?"
    Michael looked around but saw no sign of any more dogs. He called out and whistled, but the alley was silent except for the puppy's snuffling against his chest.
    "Here you go," he said, tucking the dog inside his jacket. The pup nuzzled its cold nose against him. Its paws and belly were also chilled. Michael realized that if he hadn't found it when he had, the pup would have died. Eyes barely open, it was much too young to be weaned from its mother.
    Michael took the puppy to his Jaguar, climbed inside and turned on the heater and the overhead dome lamp.
    "Let's take a look at you," he said, pulling the puppy out and examining it. The dog was male and appeared to be a mixed breed, but mostly Labrador. A mutt, perhaps, but handsome, nevertheless. Considering the size of his paws, he was going to grow up to be a big boy, a fine pet and watchdog for someone.
    Finding Michael's little finger, the pup latched on to the Mid, sucking hard in hopes of finding milk.
    "Sorry, Bruiser," he said, "but you're barking up the wrong tree."
    He had to feed him... soon. But what? How?
    Michael didn't have a clue. But he did know who would, and all he needed was an excuse—any excuse- to see her again.
    Whether he could kiss her or not.
    Rebecca answered the door, expecting some terrible calamity. Usually, when they came directly to her door, it was an emergency, often an accident with a vehicle.
    In the past few years she had grown to hate cars and what they did to innocent animals unfortunate enough to come under their wheels. Those were, by far, the worst cases she had to handle, traumatic for her, the animals and the owners.
    But when she had pulled her robe around her and opened the door she found, not some poor mangled cat or dog, but Michael Stafford. He was standing there, whole and handsome, with a giant grin on his face.
    "Oh, hi," she mumbled. "I...I wasn't expecting you." She tied the robe more tightly, suddenly feeling very underdressed. Beneath the terry cloth, she was wearing only a thin T-shirt and panties, her usual sleeping garb. If she had known he was coming over, she would have put on something more appropriate. Like a satin robe and matching chemise.
    Stop that, she thought. A chemise, indeed.
    "I'm sorry for just dropping by like this," he said. "I suppose I should have called first, but I have a new patient for you."
    She glanced down at the ground to see if he were leading something on a leash. "A patient? Where? I don't see anything."
    At that moment she heard the distinct whimper of a young puppy, coming from somewhere inside Michael's jacket.
    "I've got him in here," h e said, pointing to his chest. "He was cold."
    "Mmm-hmm... I see. You'd better bring him in— sounds serious. I've heard of a hot dog, but a cold pup?"
    He groaned. "That was awful, Dr. Rebecca."
    "Well, Mr. Stafford," she said, pulling him into the house, "call next time and let me know you're on your way. I'll have someone write me some better material."
    Half an hour later, Michael sat on the end of Rebecca's sofa, holding the puppy in his lap, a tiny baby bottle stuck into its puckered mouth. "He's slobbering all over my hand," he said. "It's running down on to my leg."
    Rebecca sat at the other end, watching, laughing at Michael's clumsiness. The puppy didn't seem to mind at all as he slurped hungrily at the rubber nipple.
    "What am I going to do with him?" he said, dabbing the milk off the pup's face with the soft