Operation Homecoming. Justine Davis

Amy Clark slipped her glasses back on as she reached the baggage claim carousel. It was cool and rainy here in Seattle in mid-April, but LA had been having an early heat wave so she welcomed the change. She welcomed even more being away from everything else she’d left behind. Already the burden of her problem felt lighter.

Even after years away, this misty green place still felt like home.

It felt safe.

With your luck, you’ll end up back here soon, running home because the big, bad city was too ugly, too nasty for you.

She wasn’t ready to admit that it was both those things yet. She’d worked hard and loved her job as a paralegal. She wasn’t ready to give up on the dream. Even if it seemed on the edge of turning into a nightmare.

Which reminded her, she was going to have to get her car fixed when she got home. How stupid to have scraped it up like that trying to escape that van that hadn’t really been following her anyway. It just happened to be going the same direction, hundreds of people headed for the airport and the surrounding area every day. She was just on edge, her imagination in overdrive. She—

“Hey, stranger!”

She whirled, a huge grin spreading across her face as she saw her best friend. Hayley Cole—Foxworth, she corrected, still not quite used to the change—looked as she always did, vibrant, her green eyes sparkling. Their hug was worthy of two people who had been friends since the second grade.

The baggage carousel came alive, began to move. Hayley looked at it warily.

“I’m getting better,” Amy said with a laugh. “A whole three-day weekend with only one bag and a carry-on.”

“And a purse the size of Alaska,” Hayley retorted.

“Well, yes. Because you never know.”

“It’s not really leaving home if you bring most of home with you,” Hayley said, right on cue. They both laughed at the old, familiar exchange.

Amy spotted her suitcase and grabbed it as it circled past. It was heavy, but not impossible, and they were soon headed to the parking structure. She was glad she’d put on her jacket, but still welcomed the chill in the air.

“Hot in LA, huh?” Hayley asked.

“In more ways than one,” Amy said, a bit of the grimness she’d pushed aside creeping back into her voice. But she didn’t want to go into it now, so she diverted. “Are the daffs up?”

“All over,” Hayley answered. “Mr. Elkhart planted some new ones last fall, some interesting colors.”

“I’m a traditionalist—I love the yellow ones.” A bouquet of daffodils was one of the most cheerful sights she could imagine.

“I know, you always did. We can...”

Hayley broke off, laughing. They’d reached her car, and a second later Amy was laughing, too. For sitting in the driver’s seat, looking at them with a pleased expression, was Hayley’s dog, Cutter.

“I left him in the back,” Hayley said.

“Is he going to drive?” she asked with a grin.

“Wouldn’t surprise me. At all.”

Amy laughed at Hayley’s serious tone as her friend hit the unlock button and the compact SUV chirped obligingly. She opened the driver’s door. Cutter jumped out at their feet. He was as beautiful as Amy remembered with his black head and shoulders and russet-brown body. He greeted Hayley with a swipe of pink tongue. To Amy’s surprise, she herself got a more effusive greeting, a plumy tail-wagging, nudging sort of dance that made her smile. She set down her voluminous purse to greet him properly.

“Well, hello again, Cutter.”

He gave a short yip, and she bent to pet him. The moment she stroked his dark head she felt an odd sensation of relief, as if suddenly she knew it would all work out, it would all be all right. All the fears seemed to not vanish but at least recede.

In that instant, the welcoming dance stopped. The dog leaned into her, staring up into her face. Something in the intense gaze, or in those gold-flecked dark eyes, was mesmerizing, and she couldn’t seem to look away.

And then he moved. He turned, sat down at Amy’s feet and looked up at Hayley. And Hayley, oddly, stopped midmotion as she was putting her own purse in the car. Her eyes flicked from the dog to Amy.

“Uh-oh,” Hayley said.

“What?”

“Are you all right?”

Amy hadn’t expected that. At least, not so soon. “Fine,” she said. And health-wise, it was true. Otherwise, not so much. But she needed to work up to discussing that. “I may need your help loading this up, though,” she said, gesturing at the large blue suitcase.

“Hmm.” Hayley sounded doubtful, but she seemed to accept the answer. She looked back at the dog. “I got it, boy. I promise.”

Cutter gave a

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