Alex sighed. Her volunteers were wonderful people, but they didn’t get paid for their work and, on weekends, family events often trumped volunteer hours. This was one of those weekends. “What kind of dog?”
“The caller said a medium sized dog with shaggy hair. Grey and white.”
“Would you put a large carrier in my car? I’ll get this one email out, then I’ll run up there.”
She sighed. Bad timing, but the dog had to come first. It possibly needed medical attention. “Kel, can you stay here and keep on this? I’ve pulled up the donor contacts and here’s a statement from me. Just paste it all together and hit send. Do the same with Facebook and direct Twitter followers to our website statement.”
“Sure. Alex, it’s going to be okay.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Alex drove north on the highway to the area Susan said the dog had been reported in the median. Everything else was pushed to the back of her mind for the moment. She spotted the animal pacing with a limp, approaching the highway, and backing away as traffic whizzed by. She pulled off to the side and put on her flashers. From the glove box, she retrieved a bag of doggie treats and removed the carrier from the back seat.
The little dog stared at her warily as she approached.
“Hey, baby,” she crooned. “Here, you want a little treat? You look hungry.” She held out a biscuit and the dog strained to sniff it without getting too close. This was going to be a challenge. She knew from years of experience not to rush a frightened dog. It would either defend itself or run. And running was not a good option on this busy highway.
She set down the carrier, opened the door and tossed a few treats inside. Then she sat down in the grass arm’s length from the carrier and tossed a biscuit to the dog. He hesitated, but hunger won out and he hobbled forward to pick up the snack. He wore a collar—someone’s pet that either got loose or was abandoned.
Alex tossed another treat, letting it land at her feet. The dog eyed her, then inched forward and gobbled up the bone-shaped biscuit. With another one on her fingertips, Alex stretched out her hand. The dog sniffed at her fingers and lapped up the treat. Slowly, Alex reached out and touched the animal’s head. He remained in place while she leaned forward to check his collar. No tag.
The dog lifted his nose and sniffed at the carrier, detecting more food. He moved forward, his head and front legs inside the contraption. Alex gave his hind quarters a gentle nudge and closed the door. “This was almost too easy. Sometimes hunger trumps fear.” She clambered to her feet and hefted the carrier to the car.
On the drive back to the shelter, the dog whined and complained, but didn’t struggle to get free. It was as if he knew she was trying to help him. “Poor baby. We’ll get you to the vet to get checked out.” She hadn’t seen any evidence of blood and the dog was walking with only a slight limp, so she wasn’t overly concerned. “If only every rescue was this easy.” She rubbed her right hand recalling the not-so-easy rescue of a boxer mix a few months earlier and the bite that required a few stitches. The dog had been terrified and saw her as a threat rather than a help. Now, after several weeks of foster care without incident, Jasper had been adopted by a family with three teens and he was right at home. Just went to show, you couldn’t judge a dog by his fight-or-flight behavior.
Evan met her at her car when she pulled up at the shelter.
“Hi.” She suddenly felt awkward and her lips immediately recalled his kiss from last night.
“Hi. I came by to thank you again.” He grinned. “I underestimated you.”
She grinned back. “Oh, really? That might require more of an explanation.” She opened the back door and tugged on the carrier.
Evan nudged her aside. “Let me get that.”
“Be careful. He’s scared and may be injured.”
“I got it.” He eased the carrier from the back seat and lifted it carefully.
Alex closed the car door and hurried to open the front door of the shelter.
“Where do you want him?”
“Let’s go into the adoption room. I don’t want him to run and hurt himself.” She opened the door to the small room furnished with a sofa and chair and nothing else. “Set him down and step outside.”
Evan did so, staring in through the glass window in the door.
Alex squatted down and spoke in soothing tones to the frightened animal that huddled in the carrier. “Okay, sweetie. I’m going to open the door and let you come out when you’re ready.” She squeezed the latch and opened the wire door, then sat on the sofa and waited.
The dog lay trembling in the carrier for a few minutes. Alex waited. Eventually, a nose poked out from the open carrier door and the rest of the shaggy grey body followed. The fur was matted and would need serious grooming. Alex watched as the little dog walked stiffly out into the room and sniffed.
“You’re a timid little one, aren’t you?” Alex slowly slid from the sofa to the floor. “I think we’ll call you Timmy.”
The dog looked back at Alex and gave a half-hearted wag of his tail.
“Come here, sweetie.” Alex held out a hand and the dog turned and stared before moving closer. When Alex could reach the dog’s head, she scratched behind the ears. The dog stood still, accepting the ear scratching. And when Alex stopped, Timmy looked up with round dark eyes and stepped forward, into the nest of her crossed legs. Alex smiled as tears stung her eyes. She had won Timmy’s trust. This dog had been loved as someone’s pet. The question was, whose?
Alex gently probed the dog’s right hind leg that had been favored when Timmy was walking. “We’ll have to get this looked at. But first we have to get you cleaned up a bit, get rid of these fleas and ticks you’ve picked up. I’m afraid we’re going to have to shave off some of your fur.” She stood and cuddled the pup, protecting the wounded leg.
When Alex emerged from the room, Evan stepped back. “Is it okay?”
“It’s a he and, yes, he’ll be okay. I think he has a sprain in that one leg, but Howard will look at him. I have to get him cleaned up first. Under all this matted fur is a colony of fleas and ticks.”
She laughed when Evan took a few steps back.
Susan came in from the kennel area. “You got him.” She cupped the dog’s chin and smiled. “Such a sweet baby. I’ll take him for a dip and clip.”
“Be gentle with his right hind leg. May be a sprain.” Alex handed off the dog and then checked her own clothing for insects.
“You really love rescuing these animals, don’t you?” Evan asked.
“I do. When I see them so frightened, abused, forgotten and then watch them heal and learn to trust, it means everything. And when we match them up with their families, well… I’m usually a mess, as you can imagine.” She swiped the backs of her hands across her eyes. “It works both ways—they rescue me, too.”
“You need rescuing?”
“Don’t we all?”
“I suppose so. This is your passion. I understand that. It’s the way I feel about food. Every dog and cat in a four county radius should be grateful to you.”
“Not every one. Sadly, sometimes, we can’t save them. Limited space, lack of resources, or they’re too far gone when we get to them. It’s heartbreaking at times. A new shelter with more space will help, but we still rely on donations and volunteers to keep things running. The vet bills alone can bury us.”
“You mean Dr. Do-Good doesn’t cut you a break?”
She frowned. “Howard’s a good vet and very generous with us, but he can’t afford to work for free, either. We have four different vets whose services we use, depending upon the need of the animal and the location. No one here gets a salary. I hope that can change some day. Everyone works so hard.” She sighed.
“Who pays for all of this?”
“Private donors. Corporate sponsors and donations. Our dogs have their individual sponsors, too.”
“The dogs have sponsors?”
“Sure. Someone may not be in a position to adopt, but
they want to help care for an animal. So they make a monthly donation and send care packages to a particular dog. You’d be surprised how this helps. Some days it’s like Christmas around here.”
He grinned. “It must make the job easier, loving what you do and seeing positive results.”
“Some people say when you love what you do, it isn’t work. It’s still work, just work that has lots of rewards.”
“You seem to be here every hour you’re not at the grill.”
“I am. And I do love it. Well, most of the time. Trying to drag a ninety-pound dog out from under an abandoned house without getting my arm torn off is a physical challenge. But, hey, I never need a gym membership.”
His eyes trailed down her body as if verifying her comment. Self-consciousness made her cross her arms over her chest. “What can I do for you?”
“You already did it by stealing Bentley’s phone and posting that fantastic review of Amelia’s. I only hope it doesn’t cost you in the long run. I’m truly grateful, Alex. I mean that.”
She opted not to mention what Bentley had done with her contact list. “Stealing? You’re Aunt Amy taught me better. No, I got our phones mixed up when I spilled champagne all over him.”
“Uh-huh. I would have paid to see that.”
“What Tiffany was doing wasn’t fair and she suckered Bentley into helping her. I couldn’t stand by in good conscience and let that happen. I’d have done the same for anyone.”
“But you did it for me. And I want to thank you. Would you come to my house for dinner tomorrow? I won’t reopen Amelia’s right away. Let things cool for a few days.”
Alex hesitated. “That’s not necessary. I’ll be happy to come when you reopen.”
“I know. And I could invite you out to some fancy restaurant but, frankly, the food wouldn’t be nearly as good. And I’ve heard the fare at Amelia’s is over-salted. I can do better.”
She grinned. “Sure of yourself?”
“Very. I’m reopening Amelia’s on Tuesday by special invitation to those who experienced the disaster last evening. You’d be doing me a favor to come to dinner and sample my cooking. Maybe I’m delusional about my skills.”
She considered the invitation. It’s only a dinner. “What time?”
“Is seven too late?”
She shook her head. “Perfect. Can I bring anything?”
“Walter.” At her frown, he continued. “I really don’t need a training class on puppy parenting from Howard. Walter will be perfectly safe with me. I promise. I kind of miss him. Besides, Tiffany has moved to one of the casino hotels.”
For a moment, she’d forgotten about Tiffany. Evan’s smile had wiped her memory clean of anything except the present. “I’ll discuss it with Walter. Throw an extra steak on the grill, just in case.”
He laughed and the sound rumbled through her in pleasant sensations. “Who says we’re having steak? Anyone can grill a steak. I have something very special in mind.”
His emphasis of the words ‘something very special’ set her imagination rolling—in a very wrong direction. A blush warmed her face and she turned away so he wouldn’t see. “Great. Sounds good. See you tomorrow. I have to get back to work now.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Evan stared at the mountain of pots and pans in his sink. He’d gotten admittedly carried away with dinner preparation. He told himself it was because he could count on Alex’s objective assessment of his dishes. But he knew the truth—he wanted to impress. He’d even purchased a new collar for Walter in anticipation of Alex bringing him along.
Tires crunched in the driveway. Evan wiped his hands and hurried to the front door. Alex stood on his porch wearing a little black dress that left nothing to the imagination. She had swept her hair up in a chignon, exposing her very lovely neck. Walter sat obediently at her side.
Evan’s mouth went dry. She was gorgeous.
“Are we having dinner inside?” she asked.
“Oh, yes. Sorry.” He stepped back, opening the door wide. “Come in.”
Walter raced ahead of her and then turned back, his backside wagging along with his tail as he waited for Evan to greet him.
“Hey, Walter. Welcome home.” He scratched behind the dogs ears. “You look lovely.”
Alex arched an eyebrow.
“I was talking to you, not the dog. Come into the living room.” His eyes fastened on her backside that didn’t wag so much as sway. He was in trouble and she’d only been here for three minutes. “I’ll be right back.” He hurried to the kitchen to pour two glasses of wine and collect plates of hors d’ouvres. He downed half a glass of wine before refilling his glass.
“It smells wonderful in here. I’m drooling already.” Alex accepted the wineglass.
“Me, too. I mean, I…uh….” He thrust a plate forward. “Hors d’ouvre?”
She took the small plate and napkin he offered, studying the selection. “These look delicious.”
“Mini crab cakes, stuffed mushrooms, bacon-wrapped shrimp,” Evan pointed to each item.
He watched as Alex took a crab cake and bit into, closing her eyes and savoring. “Mmm, this is wonderful.”
His gaze locked on her lips as she took a second bite. “Sure is. I mean, yes, that’s a great recipe.” He set down the plate and sat at the opposite end of the sofa. Walter strained and sniffed. “No, Walter. That’s not good for you. Here you go.” He tossed a few treats to the dog.
Alex laughed. “You prepared something for everyone, I see.”
“That’s me, aiming to please.”
The blush on her cheeks made him pause. She was feeling the tension, too.
Evan picked up a bacon-wrapped shrimp and popped it into his mouth. As long as he was chewing, he couldn’t say something stupid.
Alex leaned forward to pick up a stuffed mushroom. His gaze locked on the not-so-subtle hint of cleavage the motion revealed. Was she trying to drive him crazy?
“You should serve these for your next grand opening. They’d be a big hit.”
“Thanks, I’ll do that. So, are we okay with the whole vacant lot thing?”
She nodded. “We’re okay. You got the property fair and square. I’m actually thinking of moving the shelter.”
“Really? To where?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere out in the country where there’s more room and fewer neighbors. Thanks to Amy, I have the money to build unless Kellie finds me the right facility. Of course, that will take some time.”
“Of course.” Evan suddenly found himself tongue-tied. He didn’t have a clue what to talk about. If he and Alex weren’t arguing, they had nothing to discuss. He stood abruptly. “Well, I’m sure you’re hungry. I’ll get dinner ready to serve.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“No, no. Stay right here. It’ll take a few minutes.”
In the kitchen, Evan grabbed a paper towel and wiped it across his upper lip where perspiration had formed. He filled two small bowls with French onion soup and plated salads which he delivered to the dining room table. He removed rolls from the oven and placed them in a basket lined with a cloth napkin.
“The first course is served.” He ushered Alex into the dining room, rethinking the wisdom of candlelight and flowers. The atmosphere screamed of romance. He held a chair for her and got a whiff of her cologne, something very faintly sweet, not overpowering. Feminine. Intoxicating.
He sat opposite her and they ate in near silence, with the exception of Walter, who paced from one to the other, looking expectantly for something to drop.
When they’d finished the soup and salad, Evan cleared their plates and returned with the main course—almond crusted salmon with new potatoes and braised asparagus.
“This looks wonderful.”
“Thanks. I guess I should have asked first if you like salmon.”
“I love it.” She picked up her fork and broke off a corner of the salmon filet. “Oh, my. You should be a chef.” He grinned as she took a
nother bite of the salmon. She ate with enthusiasm—something he took as a compliment.
“What drives you to do animal rescue?” Evan asked. “I know what drives me, but I at least get paid for it. Well, eventually.”
“I’ve had a soft spot in my heart for animals from the time I was a kid. I was always dragging something home for Grandad to patch up—dog, cat, bird, skunk. Didn’t matter.”
“Skunk?”
Alex laughed. “Yeah, that one didn’t go so well. The skunk didn’t seem to realize we were trying to be helpful. We had to shut down the grill and air out the apartments upstairs for a couple of days. You have no idea how long it takes to get that stink out of your hair.”
“I can imagine.”
“But Grandad set the little guy’s broken leg anyway, tears streaming down his face. We had to keep it in the shed after that, though. You wouldn’t believe the insensitivity and cruelty of people where animals are concerned. I’ve pulled animals out from under abandoned buildings, dug them out of trash bins, and found them starving and chained to empty houses or, worse, in the middle of the woods.”
He stared at her. “You have a big heart.”
She blushed. “I get back more than I give. For as frightened as some of our rescues are, they’re also grateful. It’s like they somehow know you’re trying to help them. Unfortunately, I can’t save them all. Sometimes we find situations that we can’t do a thing about or an animal that’s too far gone.”
“That would be hard.” He refilled their glasses.
She sipped her wine. “It is. But there are the ones we do save and place with families. And that’s the reward, seeing them find a home and a forever family. And the ones we can’t save, well, at least they know love and caring before they cross the Rainbow Bridge.”
He furrowed his brows. “The what?”
“Animal speak for heaven.”
“Oh. Do you get a lot of adoptions?”
She finished the final bit of salmon and nodded. “We do. Some families don’t realize they’re incomplete until they adopt a pet.”
“Family’s important to you.”
“Family’s important for everyone.”
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