If he visited his dad during the past twenty years, I hadn’t known about it. But now he was back. The reason why was obvious. My gaze dropped again to his missing foot before I yanked it back up.

He leaned heavily on the doorframe, balancing on his one leg, glaring at me with all the fire of hell flashing in his eyes.

“What?” he demanded.

Startled, I jumped at the question that had been blasted at me in a sharp, ominous tone. It was the kind of voice I imagined commanders used on recruits in boot camp. Not the kind of voice one used to answer the door in Mudville.

Zeus whined next to me, no doubt sensing my discomfort. “Um, hi. I’m Stephanie, from down the street. Is your father around?”

“No.” He leaned back, about to close the door on me.

“Wait. I’m sorry, but he told me to come by. Well, actually, Carson did.” I realized Carson was still a child when this guy had left and added, “He’s a deputy in town.”

Michael drew in a deep breath—and I did my best to ignore the rise and fall of his muscles.

“Why?” he asked.

Apparently, he was fond of one-word sentences. With the amount of vitriol with which the single word was delivered, his keeping it brief was fine with me.

My heart pounding, I had to think quick. I knew he had little patience with me, which meant I only had a short time to speak. “Zeus pooped on your lawn and I didn’t have a bag and your father saw me not pick it up and called the sheriff’s office and said I had to apologize today or I’d be in trouble.”

I delivered the one long sentence in a single breath, hoping to get it all in before he slammed the door in my face.

As it was, I wasn’t sure I’d get credit for my apology. I’d have to come back again later. That was the last thing I wanted to do, even if the view was a nice one.

At least the view from his neck down was.

Oh, no doubt, Michael was a ruggedly handsome man. But his expression turned him from sexy to just plain scary.

My heart pounded as I awaited his response. But he didn’t speak. He did the last thing I expected. He started to laugh, finally wiping his hand over his face to control himself enough to say, “So that’s what the old man was storming around the house about.”

“I only ran across the street to Red’s to get a bag to pick it up. But by the time I got back, it was gone. I never meant for him to have to clean it up. I swear,” I explained further, hoping he’d see my side and advocate for me with his father.

He shook his head. “He didn’t clean it up. That lady who lives next door picked it up and then came knocking to tell him she did.”

My eyes widened. “Mary Brimley? Mother fucker,” I spat.

It had to have been her since she lived next door. As the self-appointed town gossip, she was the first to report anyone not toeing the line in this town.

Red’s friend Harper had started calling her Binoculars Brimley because she saw everything. Damned if today didn’t prove that.

So she was the one who’d seen Zeus. She was the one who tattled. If it weren’t for her, I would have had the poop cleaned up before old man Timmerman ever saw it and none of this would have happened.

I glanced up to find Michael smirking. I realized I’d just cussed like a sailor and cringed. “Sorry about my language.”

He scoffed. “Don’t be sorry on my account.”

I blew out a breath, unsure what to do. “Do you know when your father will be home?”

“He went to the store. But that usually entails a side trip to the bar so I wouldn’t expect him home any time soon.”

“Oh.” Deflated, I sighed. “I guess I can come back.”

“Look. You don’t have to apologize. I’ll let him know you were here. And I’ll tell him what happened.”

“Will that make him happy?” I asked.

He lifted one dark brow above eyes so deep and intensely blue I momentarily fell into them, only just pulling myself out before I drowned. “Nothing makes him happy. But yeah, it should keep you out of trouble.”

“That would be great. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

“And um—” I almost thanked him for his service. But it seemed too trite. The man had given a limb. At a loss I finally said, “It’s good to have you back in town.”

Stone-faced, he leveled a dark glare on me. “Glad you think so.”

With that, he hopped backward once, then again, and then the door I’d been expecting to be slammed in my face since my arrival was just that.

I stood a second, thrown by the encounter. Finally, I glanced down at Zeus to see how he’d handled the interaction. We’d noticed at the shelter he didn’t like loud noises or raised voices.

After what he’d been through, who could blame him?

I could see he hadn’t liked how our visit had ended any more than I did. There was concern evident in his dark brown doggy eyes.

It seemed they were both wounded warriors—Zeus and Michael. Some wounds were on the outside, but there were many more invisible ones on the inside.

Still, they were wounds nonetheless. And wounds could be healed.

A thought hit me. And idea that had my heart racing.

I’d managed to help Zeus. He’d been in bad shape, emotionally, when he’d first arrived. I’d gotten him out of his depression. I’d made real strides in helping him acclimate and become more social.

If I could do it for Zeus, couldn’t I do the same for Michael Timmerman?

Maybe. Maybe not. People and dogs weren’t all that different, but they weren’t all that similar either.

All I knew was, I sure as hell was going to try.