“It’s hard,” she finally managed to say. “Always something to take care of there. Homeless animals don’t really follow a nine-to-five schedule.”
He nodded and said nothing. Well, that’s that, she thought. She shouldn’t be surprised. After all, she hadn’t been particularly nice to him the other night. But he’d had a gun, she argued with herself.
While the voices in her head warred, Zane took another appreciative look at her. One corner of his mouth lifted. “I was wondering—”
Becca’s cell phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out to read the text from Shirley. “Need you here ASAP. Trouble with the kittens.”
She dropped her half-full cup in the trash can beside her. “I’m sorry. I have to go.” She pulled in a deep breath to keep the panic at bay. She still wasn’t used to these emergency calls.
“You just got here,” Zane said. He glanced at her phone. “Everything okay?”
Not even close. “It’s the shelter.”
He chewed his bottom lip and said nothing.
“They’re helpless animals,” she added. “Homeless kittens we just found this morning. There’s no one else. The manager left early this week, and I’m filling in until they hire a new one.”
“I’ve known plenty of animals in my time,” he finally said. “They had pretty good intuition. Knew how to take care of themselves.”
She gave him a long look. “Just because they know how to doesn’t mean they should have to.” With that, she went in search of her coat and to tell her sister goodbye.
Chapter Four
Two days later, Zane slipped out of the security booth as soon as Sue drove up in her beat-up Chevy Blazer. Usually, he spent an hour or so after his day shift updating paperwork or shooting the shit with the maintenance guys. The TV in the shed was always tuned to a game or a reality show, and the coffee stayed hot around the clock. But today he had someplace to be.
“Anything I need to know?” Sue asked as she settled her bulk into the single captain’s chair of the booth. She glanced at the cameras, then at Zane.
“Nope. Quiet day.”
Sue nodded and pulled out a stack of women’s magazines. “Hope it stays that way through midnight.”
“Can’t imagine it won’t.” He touched two fingers to his forehead in goodbye and then jogged in the direction of the maintenance shed. He pulled off the requisite blue security hat and ran one hand through his hair. Needed a cut, and badly. It fell into his eyes and made the back of his neck scratch.
Halfway to the shed, Zane froze. “You little shit.” Directly in front of him stood the stray dog. Looked like some kind of German shepherd mixed with mutt, with long, skinny legs and a long, skinny snout. It cocked its head at his voice, and its tongue lolled out of its mouth for a second. Then it licked its chops.
“Lookin’ for food?” he said, slowing his gait. “C’mon, buddy,” he said. He held out one open hand, trying to coax the animal closer, but the dog took one step back. The wind blew, ruffling its short brown fur, and Zane could see every one of its ribs.
Next time you have a problem, call us. We’ll take care of it. Becca’s voice flashed into his head.
Like he’d told her, though, he preferred to take care of his own problems. One of the maintenance guys opened the door of the shed and gave him a quizzical look. I got it, he mouthed. The guy shrugged and headed toward the pool building with a bucket and a squeegee.
“C’mon…” Zane said in a low voice. He walked closer. The dog watched him. No tail wag, but no growl either. It wasn’t wearing a collar. Zane wondered where the hell it had come from. “Hey, buddy, just let me—” He leaned in to grab it around the neck, but it took off. Damn. The dog dashed a few yards away and then turned and looked over its shoulder, panting.
Zane threw up his hands. “Fine. You win this time.” He turned and walked back to the shed. Stupid animal. It had to be starving. And cold. Why the hell didn’t it let him take it inside, instead of fending for itself against the elements?
Inside, he stripped off his long-sleeved blue shirt, ditched the blue uniform pants for comfortable faded jeans and pulled on a Clemson sweatshirt. He glanced out the single window that faced the complex, but the dog was long gone. Wind buffeted the building, and Zane scowled. I shouldn’t. The thing had obviously taken care of itself this long, right? The wind whipped again, and that decided it. He pulled open one of the storage closets in the back of the shed where the guys kept rock salt and birdseed and—yep, there it was. A big bag of cheap dog food.
“Don’t think he’ll care if it’s the generic brand,” Zane muttered as he dumped some into a plastic bowl. Feeding strays went against his better judgment, but if he could get the animal to come here for food instead of rummaging through the residents’ garbage, at least he could get his hands on it and take it over to the shelter.
He hoped.
He twisted the top of the dog food bag back into place and picked up the bowl. At the last minute, he grabbed a few clean towels from the pile near the bathroom. Then he went back outside and arranged the towels and the bowl against the one protected corner of the shed where the wind didn’t howl. Zane planted his hands on his hips and scowled again. He hoped he wasn’t inviting a party of wild animals out of the woods. Last thing he needed were skunks and groundhogs taking up residence in prestigious Mountain Glen.
He dusted off his hands and headed for his truck. No more worrying about it. Whatever creature wound up here, he’d take care of it. He had more important things to do right now.
Miranda Lambert started singing about doing somethin’ bad as Zane pulled out of Mountain Glen and headed for town. Wouldn’t mind doing somethin’ bad with that chick, he thought with a grin. His groin stirred, but it wasn’t the thought of the country singer doing it. Nope, he’d had a tough time keeping his mind off a certain other blonde since the night at Springer’s party.
He eased the truck down Red Barn Road. His gaze skimmed the broken-down homes that lined the left side of the road, relics from another generation deserted and boarded up now. Too bad. Some of them could’ve been something, probably were something all those years ago. Grand colonials with balconies and wide porches now sat with broken windows and crumbling chimneys and trees and shrubs so overgrown it was hard to see what lay behind them. Except for one, the grand Thompson estate. Zane slowed as two deer bounded across the road and then raised a hand at Damian Knight, one of the men who’d helped rebuild the Thompson place last year. Summer herself stood on the front porch, wearing a parka and holding a mug. They both waved at Zane, and he sped up again. The dashboard clock read almost four-thirty, and he was pretty sure the shelter closed its doors at five.
He took County Route 78 until he reached Garrison’s Feed ’n Seed near the interstate. Best place in town to buy anything from hunting equipment to tools to rabbit food, the store had been a fixture in Pine Point for three generations. A handful of pickups parked in the lot, but Zane pulled around back to the Christmas tree display.
“Hey, man,” Reid Garrison said as Zane walked up to the rows of pines. “What’s going on?” He grabbed Zane’s hand in a hearty shake. “I hear you’ve been kissing up to the lonely housewives out at Mountain Glen.”
“Shit.” Zane whistled. “This town loves its gossip, doesn’t it?”
“Is it true? You been warming beds out there?” Reid grinned. They’d played ball together back in high school, before Zane had dropped out, and they’d had more than their share of fun when it came to warming beds.
“Nah. Trying to keep a low profile.” He walked down the line of trees. He wasn’t sure how tall might be too tall. Six feet? Seven?
Reid followed him. “Doesn’t sound like a whole lot of fun.”
Maybe not, but Zane had faced his share of jealous boyfriends and angry husbands in the last ten years. He’d vowed to stick to single women from here on out.
“How much?” he asked, pointing to one full spruce. A little shorter than all the rest, it made up in fullness what it lacked in height.
“Forty bucks. I’ll trim and wrap it for you too.” Reid hefted the tree onto his shoulder and carried it across the lot. “Need anything else? Wreath? Stocking stuffers?”
“Nah.” Zane wasn’t much for the holidays. Didn’t have anyone to celebrate with, anyway, now that his mother and sister had moved down south. He waited, paid, helped Reid toss the tree into the bed of his truck and then picked up a tree stand at the last minute. “Thanks, man. See you around.”
Reid waved and loped back inside the Feed ’n Seed. Zane took the back roads into town. The wind had picked up, but the forecast still had zero snow for another few days. Shit. He could do without the bone-chilling temperatures, especially if they didn’t bring anything good for skiing or snowmobiling. As he neared Main Street, he checked the directions he’d jotted down. A right turn onto Jefferson Avenue, then a left onto Lower Road would bring him where he wanted to go. He checked the clock again. Ten minutes to five.
Just before he turned onto Jefferson, he swung into the drive-through of the local coffee place and, on impulse, ordered two large hot cocoas. “Yes to the whipped cream,” he said with a grin when the barista asked. Down boy, he told the stirring in his jeans, but that part of him had never listened to reason when it came to women.
Five minutes later, he was negotiating the pot holes of Lower Road until it came to an abrupt dead end at two long, low buildings. Pine Point Paws, read a small sign near the front door of the larger one. Peeling white paint outlined a cluster of paw prints at the bottom of the sign. Animal Abandonment is a Crime! read another bright red sign. Punishable up to $2500. He didn’t see a single soul, human or animal, anywhere. A chain-link fence lined what looked like a dog run on one side. A walking path wound behind both buildings and disappeared into the fields beyond. Two overflowing garbage cans sat beside the curb near a pile of crates and carriers of all sizes. Even through his closed windows, he could hear the sound of barking, from high-pitched yelps to low, throaty woofs. What had he gotten himself into?
Well, he’d come this far. And he was more than a little curious to see where Becca Ericksen spent her time. Zane parked, took a deep breath, grabbed the two cups of cocoa and headed inside with his best grin on.
Chapter Five
Becca stared at the man who had just walked inside the Pine Point Paws front office. He was tall, dark and handsome and held two cups of what smelled like heavenly hot cocoa. Then she looked down at herself. Dirty jeans, salt-stained work boots and a long-sleeved shirt covered in cat hair. In one hand, she held a broom. In the other, the file of a no-show adopter. She watched Zane’s expression, a mix of curiosity and something else, probably a certain level of disgust, as he took it all in—and then she burst into tears.
“Whoa. Ah, Becca?”
She cried harder, until tears blurred her vision and her nose began to run. She dropped the broom and leaned against her desk chair—she couldn’t sit on it, since it was piled high with files and bills and a cat bed that needed cleaning. And she just cried. For a solid minute, the sobs burst from her chest and out of her throat. This was ridiculous. It was heart-breaking. Running an animal shelter was non-stop work, both physical and emotional, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could do it. To add insult to injury, Mr. Good Looking, who didn’t even like animals, had just showed up to witness her frazzled state. Finally, she drew one hand across her face.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice hitched. She looked around for a tissue but couldn’t find any, so she just used her sleeve instead. “It’s been a really long day.” From the kennel behind them came the echoes of thirty-three dogs of various shapes and sizes. Julito and Kevin would be in at five-thirty to feed them, but she knew their barks of frustration came from being pent up in this cold weather, not just their hunger.
Zane held out a cup. “Hot cocoa?”
Hot cocoa. As if a warm beverage could fix all her problems? But she took the cup anyway. “Thanks.” She sniffled away her remaining tears.
He looked around. “Must be tough running this place by yourself.” He ran one hand over paneling that had separated from the wall near the door. A space heater hummed at his feet and two gray cats lay curled up next to it. The baseboard was split, and she had towels stuffed in the cracks along the window. “Needs work.”
Her face heated. “Yes, it does. But in case you didn’t know, the donations aren’t exactly pouring in.” She looked at a crumpled flyer lying on the desk. Spend Christmas with One of Santa’s Elves! read the bright red and green letters. Three of their good-natured senior cats were pictured at the bottom with Christmas hats plopped onto their heads. Chrissy had planned an extravagant adoption event back in the fall, hoping for at least twenty of the shelter’s animals to go home in time for the holidays. But with Chrissy’s sudden departure and the lack of volunteers and manpower, Becca had shelved that idea. Now she only hoped she wouldn’t have to take in any more animals, because Pine Point Paws was full to the gills. She’d already turned the back bathroom into a kitten sanctuary and doubled up some of the smaller dogs in the kennel.
“Didn’t mean it as a criticism,” Zane said in a slow drawl. She heard he’d lived down south for a while and it sounded as though he’d picked up an accent in those years. Not that she was really noticing, and not that she found it sexy.
“Just an observation.” He looked back at her, at the pictures and clipboards hanging askew on the walls, at the cats by the heater. “Need some help?”
Her eyes burned, and she almost dissolved into tears all over again. “I thought you said animals could take care of themselves.”
He took his time letting his gaze move from her face to her chest, down her legs and back up. “Wasn’t talking about the animals, necessarily,” he finally said. “Just meant if you need a hand, I’m pretty good with repairs.”
He’s trying to be nice, a voice inside her said. Be nice back. “Thanks for the offer. There are a couple of guys next door who usually take care of that stuff. It’s just hard for them to keep up with everything.”
Zane nodded. He took another look around the office, set down his own cup and backpedaled for the door. “Hang on a minute.”
Becca frowned. He hadn’t said what he was doing here. Maybe he’d caught the dog? Or maybe…worry slipped through her. Maybe he’d done something to the dog? She hurried to the window in time to see him walk around to the bed of his truck and drop the tailgate. Please tell me he didn’t use his pistol after all. Her fingers went to the cell phone inside her front pocket. If she had to, she’d call the local police. Right now.
But a moment later, Zane pulled out what looked like a pine tree. Carrying it as though it weighed little more than one of her cats, he walked up the path and inside the front door. Just outside the office, he set it on the ground and shook out its boughs.
“Thought you might like a little cheer,” he said from the other side of the tree. She couldn’t see his face, and it was probably good he couldn’t see hers either, considering two minutes ago she’d been about to call the authorities on him. I’m an idiot. I assumed the worst, and here he is with a damn Christmas tree.
Becca frowned. But this Zane made even less sense than the one with the gun. At least that Zane had resembled the guy she remembered from high school, the bad boy who was cocked and ready to go off at a moment’s notice. This guy? She’d told him off not once but twice in the last week. She looked and smelled about as appealing as something that had crawled out from under a porch. So why was he standing in her hallway with a Christmas tree?
He poked his head around the side of the spruce. “Here? Or would you rather have it in the office?”
She stifled a laugh. “Um, probably out there. The cats will climb it if it’s in here.”
He nodded, tongue sticking o
ut of the corner of his mouth, then disappeared again. She heard grunting and caught sight of him on his hands and knees. The tree swayed precariously from side to side, and a few curse words punctuated the grunts. Becca watched, curious. She should probably offer to help, but she had even less experience setting up a Christmas tree than running an animal shelter, so she kept her mouth shut. A moment later, the tree stopped moving, and Zane emerged from around it.
“Didn’t think to get any decorations,” he said. He grabbed the top and shook it hard. It didn’t move. Red-faced, he edged his way around and joined her in the office again. “But I thought…” He wiped his hands on his ass—an awfully nice ass too, hugged perfectly by those jeans. “Thought you could use a little holiday spirit.”
Becca finished the sinfully sweet cocoa and dropped the cup in the trash can. “Thank you.” It felt like she should do more than that, so she held out her hand. “Really. I appreciate it.”
He looked at her hand, then back up at her face. Heat rushed into her cheeks. What? What are you looking at? “I washed,” she said after a minute.
He laughed. “Sorry.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “I just…” He didn’t finish.
“What?”
From the kennel behind them, doors opened and closed, and the barks and whines and yelps escalated to a high-fevered pitch. Julito and Kevin must have arrived with food.
Zane said something else, but she could barely hear him over the din. She took a step closer, and so did he, so when he bent and repeated the words, his breath came hot in her ear, and she almost dissolved at the sensation.
“I wondered if you wanted to get dinner sometime.”
Chapter Six
“Wait a minute,” Ella said. She stared into the bathroom mirror, mascara wand in hand. “You’re going to dinner with who?”
Winter's Wonder: Pine Point, Book 2 Page 3