Proof of Angels

Proof of Angels by Mary Curran Hackett

Book: Proof of Angels by Mary Curran Hackett Read Free Book Online
Authors: Mary Curran Hackett
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conditions—meaning you’re alone and being a firefighter hero and all—you got one! You’re gonna work with his trainer, and in a few days he’ll be fetching club sodas for you from thefridge. Hell, I bet we can eventually teach him how to surf. He can get our towels for us!”
    Sean looked at the dog, back at James, and at Gaspar, who stood behind James smiling, totally taken with the dog himself.
    â€œHe’s mine?”
    â€œYes, he’s yours,” James explained. “Well, actually Libby here is going to help you two get acquainted. She can teach you what you need to know to take care of him. But mostly he’ll be taking care of you.”
    Libby, a tall, lanky brunette with cropped hair and a row of earrings up her right ear, and an intricate tattoo wrapping her forearm, put out her hand to shake Sean’s. “I’m Libby Cartwright. Your trainer.”
    Sean put out his gloved hand and shook her hand gently, and held it and tried to squeeze it as if to say: Wait . He was staring at her tattoo. Celtic knots in green and orange seemed to be camouflaging scars on her arm. Sean took a hard look and recognized the shape and pattern. He had seen them on fellow rehab patients back in the day. They were scars of old track marks. A heroin addict’s tell.
    Libby caught Sean’s eyes. Sean knew she knew what he saw. The two made eye contact and nodded in secret acknowledgment.
    â€œI can’t have a pet,” Sean said, looking at Libby, and then at James and Gaspar.
    â€œWhat are you talking about, Sean? Of course you can,” James said sternly. “Don’t go kicking a gift horse—”
    â€œNo, it’s not like that. It’s just in AA I was told I had to keep a plant alive for a year, then I’d be able to move on to a pet . . . and I can’t keep the damn plant on my patio alive.”
    Gaspar laughed aloud.
    â€œWhat’s so funny?” Sean snapped.
    â€œI saw that plant,” Gaspar said with a knowing grin and nod. Libby laughed, too.
    â€œOh, so you’re laughing now, too?” Sean said flirtatiously to Libby.
    â€œChief is different, Sean. He’ll tell you what he needs. You won’t forget to feed him or give him water. He won’t let you. He’ll be able to turn on lights, open cabinets, and fetch your shoes since you can’t bend down. He knows over forty commands,” James assured Sean.
    Chief sat beside Sean and propped his warm muzzle on his lap. Sean put his hand on the dog’s head and started to stroke his fur. Sean hadn’t felt anything but pain in his hands in weeks. And with the protective gloves, there was no way his skin was able to feel the warmth of Chief’s snout, the soft hair above his eyes, but Sean felt as though he could. For a second, he felt as if he could feel as he had before the fire.
    Libby knelt down beside Chief and wrapped her sleek, ropey arms around him, rubbing his abdomen, and looked up at Sean. “He’s one of the best I’ve ever trained. Wanna see what he can do?”
    Sean nodded. “Okay.”
    Libby pointed across the room toward the bathroom and said, “Open the door.”
    Chief padded across the room, popped up and used his paws to pull down the door handle, opened it, and held it with his body.
    James looked back at Sean, amazed. “See?”
    â€œOkay, okay,” Sean shushed James.
    â€œChief, pillow, please,” Libby said, pointing toward the bed.
    Chief walked over to the bed, got up on his hind legs, took the pillow with his mouth, and carried it over to Libby. Libby gave Chief a hearty pet and rubbed his ear.
    Sean got the drift. He felt bad for the dog. He didn’t want him running around doing tricks for his benefit.
    â€œHey, Chief! Get over here, buddy,” Sean said and Chief turned, looked at Sean, and almost nodded in approval, as if Chief was the one making the decision about who would be

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