Free 3 Madness in Christmas River by Meg Muldoon

clinic, they told me that poor little Hucks had two broken ribs and a broken front leg that needed surgery to fix. He was being operated on right now.
    Knowing the pain he must have been in was tearing me up inside.
    I already felt horribly guilty. And I didn’t need it rubbed in my face by a young police deputy who clearly didn’t have enough sense than to antagonize a woman when she was feeling at her worst.
    But maybe what upset me the most was the fact that despite the rude manner in which Deputy McHale delivered his judgments, he was right.
    I shouldn’t have opened that door. I should have stayed inside where it was safe and called the police.
    I hadn’t been thinking about Huckleberry, or what that bastard dressed in black could do to him.  
    “You got off lucky, Miss Peters,” he said. “Your dog’s not the only one who could have been hurt.”
    I shook my head and wiped my nose.
    Even though Trumbow and I weren’t exactly friends, I wished it were him questioning me instead of Deputy McHale.
    “I don’t understand what you—” he started again.   
    “I can’t do this right now,” I said, interrupting him. “You can ask me as many questions as you like later, all right? But I can’t do it now. Do you understand? I can’t think straight.”
    “The more information I can get now, the better chance we have of catching the guy that—”
    The door to the clinic opened.
    I let out a sigh of relief when I saw who it was.
    Warren walked in, a deep crease of worry between his white eyebrows. Kara was following close behind.
    She’d been nice enough to go pick him up.
    “Are you okay, Cin?” Warren asked, the wrinkles on his forehead making him look older than he already was.   
    I got up and hugged him.
    “I’m okay,” I said, trying to reassure him. “I’m okay.”
    “Kara told me what happened,” he said. “How’s Huckleberry?”
    “He’s…”
    I had been giving it my all, trying to keep it together.
    But I’d reached my breaking point.  
    I buried my head in my grandfather’s shoulder and sobbed uncontrollably.  
    He held me, patting my back gently.
    “Shhh… It’s okay, Cinny Bee. It’s okay.”
    “He’s got a few broken ribs,” I said. “And one of his legs is broken, too.”
    “Is that all?” Warren said. “Well, that’s one little tough dog you have. Remember? He survived all sorts of snow storms when he didn’t have a home. A few broken bones shouldn’t shake him up too badly.”
    “It’s just… It’s all my fault,” I said, pulling away. “I shouldn’t have let him out there. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
    “Well, that’s what he’s there for,” Warren said. “He was just protecting my Cinnamon.”
    “But look what happened,” I muttered. “Look what happened to him.”
    “He did his job,” Warren said. “I’m sure he’s happy to have done it. And I’m happy he was there to take care of you.”
    “It’s true, Cin,” Kara said, rubbing my arm. “And he’s going to be okay.”
    “I just shouldn’t have opened that door,” I said, shaking my head again.
    I sat back down in the uncomfortable plastic chair.
    “Look, Miss Peters, we really need to talk about what happened. It’s important that we—”
    I shot Deputy McHale an angry glare that said more than words could. He stopped mid-sentence, and then leaned back and sighed, like it was all such a big disappointment to him.
    “Look, fella,” Warren said in a stern tone. “It seems to me that this can wait a little while. Give the lady some room for the time being.”  
    When Warren spoke in that tone, you didn’t want to mess with him. The few times I’d been on the other end of it, I could have sworn that even the lights flickered out of fear.
    Deputy McHale got the message. He stood up, and put his wool beanie back on over his disheveled hair.
    “Fine,” he said. “But I’m only trying to help.”
    He headed for the door. Kara’s eyes took a little walk over him