Let go?
Michelle had taken that last irrevocable step—she’d drunk herself into a stupor, but she’d done so because of his negligence.
And she’d been without oxygen for so long because he’d left her alone in a nearly comatose state. If he’d been committed enough, devoted enough, even aware enough to stay with her, they’d be on their honeymoon now.
Let go? Never.
No matter what Sara said, Michelle had lost her life because of him. It was a fact that couldn’t be denied. Or changed. And her family had made that plain to him.
His friends, too, had blamed him, even as they commiserated with him. He’d have to live with the aftermath of guilt, and the whispers that condemned him for having left her alone that night.
But Sara was right about one thing. He had to get out into the world. To live among those he’d spent his entire life ignoring.
To find something human in the selfish bastard he’d become.
CHAPTER THREE
DANA AND LORI fed the dog.
“We should name him,” Lori said as they watched him gulp down a bowl of instant rice with canned chicken mixed in.
“Uh-uh.” Dana shook her head. “You name him, you take on ownership—and he’s not ours.”
She couldn’t keep him. He wasn’t house-trained, as they’d already discovered. And as he grew he was going to need more space than her little duplex would give him.
They bathed him. And fed him again.
Or attempted to. As soon as Dana put down the second bowl of chicken she’d boiled for the puppy, Kitty Kari darted out from behind the refrigerator and over to the bowl.
“You have a kitten! How cute.” Lori grinned, watching the tiny calico put her front paws on the bowl and dip her head inside until she reached her goal.
The puppy, easily five times her size, cowered back and watched as the kitten ate his food. And Dana felt a kinship with him.
“Kari, that’s not yours,” she said, reaching over and plucking the cat out of the bowl. “Little Guy’s a lot hungrier than you are,” she explained.
“Did you bring her with you from Indiana?” Lori asked, reaching over to pet the kitten.
Shaking her head, Dana watched the puppy, hoping he’d head back to the bowl on his own. It was best if siblings could find a way to coexist.
Not that he was, or would be, a member of their family. Still, while he was in their home...
“She was left on the side of the road in Missouri. I’d stopped for the night on my trip out here and saw the box on the entrance ramp to the freeway. There were three kittens inside, but only Kari survived.” Holding the cat up to her face she said, “And you’re doing just fine, aren’t you, girl? Healthy and sassy as can be.”
Kneeling, Lori coaxed the puppy slowly to the bowl and told Dana that she’d never had a pet, which led to a conversation about the younger woman’s life in Bisbee living alone with her miner father after her mother died.
Dana had no idea who her real father was. But she didn’t offer up that information.
Over a glass of iced tea, while they sat on her back patio waiting for the little guy to do his business, Dana offered the younger woman her spare bedroom for the night. And any night that her roommate had her boyfriend over. Marissa couldn’t get away with sneaking a boy into an all-girls’ dorm too often. And Dana understood Lori’s predicament. Sometimes you had to choose to look the other way for the greater good.
* * *
TWO DAYS AND TWELVE HOURS later, on Friday morning, Dana was almost late for her freshman English class because she’d had to clean up two puppy messes left by Little Guy in the fifteen minutes between taking him outside first thing in the morning and getting out of the shower. Lori, who’d caught a ride with her back to campus in time for their English class on Wednesday hadn’t been over since, but had offered to babysit the dog over the weekend.
Dana was hoping she wouldn’t need her. After class on Friday, she headed straight home to the bathroom where she’d been locking up the puppy while she was away, groaned at the toilet-paper-strewn floor, scooped up the unrepentant offender, and the jarred sample she’d collected from the backyard that morning. Leaving the mess, she headed back out the door.
Cassie Tate Montford, owner of the Shelter Valley animal clinic, was waiting for them and she didn’t want to be late.
Zack Foster, the only other veterinarian on Cassie’s staff, had taken care of the kittens for her when she’d arrived in town, and she’d called him first thing Wednesday morning only to find that he was out of town. The clinic’s receptionist had assured Dana that Dr. Tate would handle their situation.
Driving with Little Guy wasn’t easy. Luckily, she didn’t have far to go and arrived at the clinic five minutes ahead of her one-thirty appointment. And five minutes after that, Dr. Tate entered the examination room.
The middle-aged redhead wore her long hair piled into a twist. With her white coat and efficient air, she was a bit intimidating, until her brown eyes landed on the creature in Dana’s arms.
“Hello, friend, what can you tell us about yourself?”
The gentleness with which the older woman handled the stray, the way she treated him like a person, instead of a lesser being, endeared her to Dana.
“He looks to be in perfect health,” the doctor said after a thorough examination. “I’m guessing he’s somewhere between four and six months old. Temp is normal, heart sounds good. Gums are healthy. Teeth, too. No fleas or skin infestations, no signs of internal parasites or worms in the sample you brought in. His eyes and ears are clear. His coat’s healthy. He’s certainly got a good disposition.”
Dana could vouch for that. Standing at the table, opposite the doctor, Dana asked, “What breed do you think he is?”
“He’s got some Lab in him. And, I think, poodle.” Dr. Tate smiled. “Do you have any interest in keeping him?”
“I can hang on to him for a little while. But I live in a duplex. And he’s going to get big, isn’t he?” Please tell me I’m wrong, that his big paws are just a fluke.
“I’d guess at least fifty pounds. Maybe more.”
“He’s got a rabies tag,” Dana pointed out.
“I know,” Cassie Tate Montford said. “We’re checking on that now, but since no one’s called looking for him, my guess is he’s been abandoned.”
He was too sweet to have been abandoned. Someone loved him. Was worried about him. Probably putting up lost-dog signs all over the neighborhood. She hadn’t seen any, when she’d driven around town looking for them after class on Thursday. But she probably just hadn’t landed on the right neighborhood. “I have a kitty...”
“Right. Kari. I read Zack’s notes on her. And a hamster, too, I saw.”
“Some kids in my freshman biology class were talking about having gotten him for their dorm and then found out they couldn’t keep him.”
“Freshman biology?” the doctor asked. Petting the dog, she said, “If you’re in school full-time, and working, it might be hard to take care of a new puppy.”
“I don’t work,” she blurted. “I’m here on a full scholarship, including living expenses. And I’ve been working in my family’s furniture business back home for the past six years. I’ve got savings....”
When she realized she was babbling, she shut up.
Curiosity flashed across the doctor’s expression. “You’re scholarship includes living expenses?” The veterinarian sounded surprised by that fact.
“Yes.” So? Little Guy was getting restless, and Dana lightly scratched his chest in between his two front paws. It was his favorite spot—as she’d discovered during the middle of the night when she couldn’t get him to stop whining in the bathroom and go to sleep. He’d done just fine in her bed.
“Did you apply for th
e scholarship?”
“No.” She frowned. “Why?”
“It’s just that...I know someone else...the fiancé of a friend of a friend.” Cassie Tate Montford chuckled. “He’s also here this semester on a scholarship with full living expenses included, and those kinds of scholarships are few and far between. He didn’t apply for his, either, and he has no idea where the scholarship came from. He’s convinced his grandmother set it up, but if you got one, too, that’s probably not likely. Unless you know him. Mark Heber?”
“I’ve never heard of him. Is he from Indiana?”
“No. It’s probably just some kind of national program set up by a private benefactor. Private meaning whoever donates the money wants to remain anonymous. I’ve just...no one here has ever heard of this before and now we have multiple recipients in one semester.”
“Yeah.” She shrugged. Dana didn’t really care how the scholarship had come to be—only that it was. “I’m pretty sure my mother applied for it on my behalf,” she offered because of the tenderness the older woman was showing to Little Guy. “Anyway, I’m fine, financially, as long as I watch my spending. I can certainly afford dog food and vet bills until we find a home for him.”
“We have a pet placement program here at the clinic. If you were to keep him, it probably won’t be long before—”
“I, actually...wanted to talk to you about that,” Dana said. Zack had mentioned the pet placement program when she’d brought the kittens in to be seen. And again after she’d joined his and his wife’s pet-therapy program at school. “Dr. Foster mentioned that you needed someone to temporarily house unwanted pets. Also people who’d be willing to travel to new adoptive homes to make sure the new owners weren’t overwhelmed and to check on the general well-being of the pet.”
The doctor smiled. “That’s right. We’re looking for another pet placement counselor. But the job is volunteer only. I’m assuming Zack explained that there aren’t any funds to pay you. Are you interested?”
“Yes,” Dana said without hesitation.
“Great, since Zack already offered you the position, I don’t need any other reference. I’ll have our receptionist, Hope, sign you up.” Dr. Tate grinned and added, “We have a pet-therapy program, too. It’s part of a club through the university. Zack and his wife head it up. I’m guessing he mentioned it to you?”
“He did,” Dana said. “I’m already a member.”
The doctor nodded. “In the meantime, let’s wait until we hear back about the rabies tag and go from there. If you’d like to see Hope about the counselor position while you’re waiting, we’ll be all set.”
Dana was settled in a chair in the waiting room, a packet filled with pet counselor information on her lap. She was watching a rerun of a dog whisperer show on the flat-screen television on the wall, when the door to the clinic opened.
Little Guy jumped down from her lap and darted the full extent of his leash to jump up on the man who was taking off his sunglasses as he walked toward the reception desk. Dana yanked on the puppy’s leash just as the stranger stepped back, right onto Little Guy’s foot. The puppy squealed and peed on what looked to be a very expensive leather shoe.
Before she had time to react, the inner door opened and Dr. Tate Montford emerged.
“Ms. Harris? We just heard... Oh!” The doctor noticed the stranger. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear the bell and Hope’s out back. Can we help you?”
By the time her eyes dropped to the man’s shoe, Dana had grabbed a wad of paper towel from the dispenser on the wall and, with the little guy’s leash tightly held in one hand, was cleaning up the man’s expensive leather with the other.
“I can take care of that,” the man said, his voice friendly as he bent down to her level.
She held on to the towel. “I should have watched him better. I’m so sorry.” Dana looked up from the shoe and into the most soulful pair of blue eyes she’d ever seen, just inches from her own.
“It’s fine,” the man said, the warmth of his fingers transferring to hers as he took the towel from her and finished cleaning the toe of his shoe. “It’s just a pair of shoes. I have more.”
Staring, she couldn’t think of a thing to say, so she stood up. And hoped someone would do something to break the awkward moment.
“I’m Josh Redmond,” the stranger said to Dr. Tate, upright again. “I’m new to town, working at the university, and was hoping to have a word with you, when you’re free.”
“I’ve got half an hour for a late lunch, if you can wait for about five minutes,” the doctor said easily enough.
Stupidly, Dana experienced a pang of envy. The man was gorgeous, but she didn’t give much credence to looks. It was his eyes that got to her. They had a depth to them, as if they were searching. As if he’d lost something.
She was a sucker for strays.
Kitty Kari and Billy the hamster were it for her. Their small duplex had reached its capacity.
“I’m sorry.” The doctor turned to Dana as Josh Redmond took a seat. “I was just coming out to tell you that we traced the tag to an address out on the reservation. Sheriff Richards knew the place. It’s been boarded up for about a week. The family left no forwarding address.”
So Little Guy had been abandoned.
“You want to keep him until we find a home?” Dr. Tate asked Dana. “I’d take him myself but our collie is getting up there in years and her health is failing. I’m afraid of what an energetic puppy would do to her at this point.”
Little Guy looked up at Dana. She’d have to buy a dog bowl. And puppy pads. A kennel to keep him in while she was attending class. But she’d need those things on hand, anyway, as the newest pet placement counselor of the Love To Go Around Program.
“I’ll give him a home.” Josh Redmond stood up. “If you don’t already have a permanent home in mind for him, that is. I’m new to town. I...live alone. And would like the company.”
Dana knew what it felt like to be alone.
“I’ll fill out whatever paperwork you need,” Josh said, his gaze moving between Dana and the vet. The earnestness in his voice caught at her emotions even more than the look in his eyes. He seemed to feel he had to convince them.
Dana recognized that note in his voice, almost as if he was trying to convince himself that he was good enough....
“I can do the home checks, if you like,” she offered.
And maybe she’d get a puppy for herself, too. One that was smaller and could live happily in a duplex.
Dr. Tate explained to Josh Redmond about the pet adoption program requirements. Adding that Dana would perform periodic home checks for the first month or so, and asking if that was all right with him.
“Absolutely,” the man said. He wasn’t smiling, but he seemed eager enough to take the puppy home with him.
Dana handed over the leash and, counselor packet hugged to her chest, ignored the sting of tears as she turned to go and leave Little Guy behind.
She’d best get better at turning the unwanted pets over to new families if she was going to be any good to the Love To Go Around program. And really, how selfish of her to think that she deserved all the stray love.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” the man’s voice sounded behind her.
“I already paid my bill,” she assured him, needing to get outside, to take a breath of fresh air. She’d be fine in a second.
“How are you going to visit him if you don’t know where he lives?” Josh Redmond asked.
Oh, right. Turning back, she waited patiently while the man wrote his address on a pad of paper Dr. Tate handed to him. She gave him her cell number, as well, in case he had any problems with the puppy. And she bent to kiss Little Guy goodbye.
“This address is only temporary,” he said as he handed her the piece of paper. “Until I can find
something more permanent.”
Dana’s smile, while still shaky, wasn’t forced the second time she turned to go. She’d see Little Guy again. Very soon.
CHAPTER FOUR
“ARE YOU SURE I can’t get you something to eat?” Sitting outside at a picnic table in the little courtyard behind the clinic, Cassandra Montford was absolutely nothing like Josh had expected.
On the bench across from her, his knees beneath the cement tabletop avoiding hers, Josh shook his head. He’d chosen Cassie deliberately because she was one step away from blood relation. One step away from someone who would be directly affected by what he had to say.
“We’ve always got fresh veggies and sandwich fixings in the fridge,” Cassie said. “For days like today when there isn’t time for a proper meal.”
“You always this busy, then?”
“Sometimes.” The beautiful redhead took a bite of a sandwich and shrugged. “My partner, Zack, is out of town with his wife this week so things are a little more crazy than usual around here.”
His mind reeling with the knowledge that he had a four-legged creature waiting for him in a kennel inside that back door, Josh said, “I won’t keep you long.”
“What can I do for you?” Cassie asked.
She took a sip from a water bottle and offered him a bottle of his own. He declined that, too.
“I have a favor to ask,” he said, suddenly conscious of the fact that the pretty veterinarian had limited time to offer him and was already halfway through her sandwich. “Of sorts,” he amended.
He’d told himself he wasn’t going to ask anything of anyone.
And he wasn’t.
Not of material value, anyway.
“You said your place is only temporary. You’re new to town?” The doctor’s expression was serious.
The Moment of Truth Page 3