by Rachel Lacey
“Well, it means there are going to be a lot of babies around here soon,” Merry told him.
He bent down to pet Yoda. “Oh. Is it time to walk down the aisle yet?”
“Just about. Here come Grandma and Grandpa now.” Amy looked out the back window to see her parents headed their way. Butterflies swarmed her stomach. She’d never thought this day would happen. Her wedding day.
And yet here she was, marrying Luke. Her first love. The only man who’d ever truly owned her heart. Happiness swelled warm and bright inside her.
Since their reunion that spring, Luke had taken a job at Dogwood Hospital and moved in with her and Noah, and their little house had never felt more like home. With Everyday Emmy continuing to grow in popularity, Amy was considering quitting her job at the diner when the baby was born, a luxury she never would have considered even a few short months ago.
Her parents came through the back door. EmmyLou was radiant in a blue dress. Trace looked handsome and distinguished in a gray tuxedo similar to Noah’s. Her father had accented his with a bolo tie and cowboy boots.
“Oh, sweetie, I’m so happy I could just burst.” Her mother pulled her in for a hug.
“Me too, Mom.”
“First T.J., and now it’s your turn. Both of my babies married, and I’m getting the best son and daughter-in-law out of the deal too.” EmmyLou smiled warmly at Merry.
The music outside changed. EmmyLou gave Amy a big hug then turned to Noah. “What do you say, are you ready to walk me down the aisle?”
He nodded and followed her out the back door, Yoda trotting at his side.
Amy choked back tears watching her son walk her mother down the aisle. Merry and T.J. went next, followed by Amanda and Joe.
Amy’s dad put his elbow out for her to take his arm. “This is an awfully proud moment for me, Amy. I couldn’t be happier for you and Luke.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
They stepped through the doorway into the bright sunlight outside. Everything felt like slow-motion as they walked, so many happy faces smiling her way. But one face in particular held her attention. Her eyes locked on Luke standing beneath the arbor.
He wore a gray tux and a smile that made her chest swell with happiness. So handsome. And he was hers. By the time she reached him, tears were streaming down her face.
Luke’s eyes were glossy too.
The ceremony passed in a blur. Amy felt the breeze in her hair, smelled the sweet aroma of the flowers overhead. She recited her vows, her gaze never wavering from Luke’s. Noah brought their rings, looking so grown up it made her heart ache for the awesome little man he was becoming.
“With this ring, I thee wed,” Luke said as he slid the platinum band onto her finger.
“With this ring, I thee wed.” Her voice wobbled, and she almost dropped the ring.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the minister said.
Luke dipped his head toward hers. “You take my breath away, Mrs. Benson. I am the luckiest man alive to call myself your husband.”
And then he kissed her, and everything else faded away. There was only Luke. And a lifetime of happiness ahead.
Excerpt from UNLEASHED
Love to the Rescue Book 1
Link to list of buy links: http://www.rachellacey.com/unleashed/
Chapter 1
Cara Medlen felt the growl before she heard it, rumbling against her leg from the dog tensed at her side. She jiggled the leash to break his concentration. “Easy, Casper. You may not realize it yet, but today’s your lucky day.”
He looked up at her with dull eyes, one brown, one blue. A jagged scar creased his face. Ribs and hip bones jutted through his mangy white coat. And, oh boy, did he stink. Cara had yet to meet an ugly boxer, but Casper…well, he had the sort of face that made people cross to the other side of the street.
That same face grabbed at a tender spot in her heart.
“It’s a blessing that Triangle Boxer Rescue can take him,” the woman behind the desk, a volunteer named Helen, said. “Shelter life hasn’t been good for him.”
Cara nodded as she handed the signed paperwork to Helen. “I’ve worked with a lot of dogs like Casper. I’m sure we’ll have him ready for adoption in no time.”
But the warning she’d received from her homeowners’ association over the summer weighed heavily on her mind: Keep her foster dogs in line or face disciplinary action by the board.
The door to the kennels opened, allowing raucous barking to spill into the lobby. Casper peered around her and fixed his gaze on the man who’d come through the door. His ears flattened, and the hair raised along his spine.
Yep, this dog was trouble all right.
Cara sidestepped to block his view. “Thanks, Helen. Happy New Year.”
With a quick wave, she hustled Casper out the front door. He tucked his tail against the cold air, then raised his nose and sniffed the sweet scent of freedom. He slunk onto the brown patchy grass of the shelter’s front lawn and raised his leg on a tree.
When he’d finished, she loaded him into the backseat of her little blue Mazda. She smoothed her hands over her black dress, wrinkled since the funeral by hours in the car and now covered in Casper’s white fur. The ache in her chest rose up, squeezing her throat, and she shoved it back.
Later, she’d grieve. Now she needed to get Casper home.
She swung into the front seat and cranked the engine. “So, you’ve officially been sprung from doggy jail.”
He gave her a wary look, then turned his head to stare out the window. She pulled onto High Street and took the ramp to Interstate 85, headed for her townhouse in Dogwood, a small town on the outskirts of Raleigh, North Carolina.
“But listen, no more shenanigans, okay?”
Casper cocked his head, his mismatched eyes somber.
“One of my fosters growled at my neighbor’s dog, and she filed a complaint against me with the homeowners’ association, so I need you to be on your best behavior.”
With a dramatic sigh, he sprawled across the backseat and closed his eyes. Well, she’d take that as a yes. She’d put in a few extra hours of behavior training with him in the meantime, just to be sure. Casper slept for the next hour as Cara drove them home.
The latest Taylor Swift single strummed happily from inside her purse, and she shoved a hand inside to grab her cell phone. Merry Atwater’s name showed on the display. “Hey, Merry.”
“Hey. Just wanted to see how you’re holding up,” Merry said. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
Cara tightened her grip on the steering wheel, blinking away the image of Gina’s pale face inside the casket. “I’m okay, or I will be.”
“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry. Let me know if there’s anything I can do. Are you still planning to go out tonight?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there, just maybe late. Casper and I have some acquainting to do.”
“How is he?” Merry shifted into her professional voice. As the founder of Triangle Boxer Rescue, she had a vested interest in every dog they saved. Cara had no idea where she found the time to run a rescue on top of her day job as a pediatric nurse, but Merry somehow managed to juggle the two.
“Well, he’s only growled twice so far.” Cara glanced over her shoulder with a smile. Casper watched, his head on his front paws.
“What happened? The shelter didn’t mention aggression.”
Cara flipped on her blinker and exited the highway onto Fullers Church Road. “I think he’s just stressed out. I’m not too worried about it. What time should I meet you at Red Heels?”
“Why don’t I come over to your place and we can get ready together? I’ll help you get Casper settled, and we can talk.”
“Sounds great, Mer, thanks.”
“You bet. See you around seven.”
Cara shoved the phone back into her purse. Truthfully, the last thing she wanted to do tonight was go to a New Year’s Eve party, but she refused to sit home and feel sorry for hersel
f. She’d go, and she’d even have fun, dammit.
It was what Gina would have wanted.
She pulled into the parking lot of Crestwood Gardens, her townhouse community, and guided her Mazda into its assigned spot, right next to her sexy next-door neighbor’s shiny black Jeep Grand Cherokee. The man in question stood in his front yard, deep in conversation with a perky brunette in tight jeans and a low-cut sweater.
Cara felt a twinge of something like jealousy, which was ridiculous because she didn’t even know his name. And she’d prefer to keep it that way. She shut off the engine and hurried to fetch Casper from the backseat. “Welcome home, dude.”
He hopped down, tail tucked. It had been a long and difficult day for both of them. Time to get settled in and relax for a while.
One of her neighbors—Chuck Something-or-other—passed with a nod as Cara headed toward her townhouse. She offered a polite smile, her attention focused on Casper. The dog looked up at the older man. Their eyes met. The hair along Casper’s spine raised, and he released a low, guttural growl that sent Chuck scrambling into the parking lot.
Cara swore under her breath as she shoved the key into the lock and pushed open her front door.
So much for making a good first impression on the neighbors.
Excerpt from FOR KEEPS
Love to the Rescue Book 2
Link to list of buy links: http://www.rachellacey.com/for-keeps/
Chapter One
Merry Atwater was about to do something she hadn’t done in almost a decade. She closed her eyes, clasped her hands together, and prayed. As in, to God. She had little faith the Big Guy was listening, but she was desperate.
When she opened her eyes, the numbers on the screen hadn’t changed. Not that she expected God to alter Triangle Boxer Rescue’s account balance, but He did perform miracles from time to time, didn’t He? The truth was, the animal rescue she had poured her heart and soul into for the last six years was flat broke.
“What am I going to do?” She steepled her fingers and pressed them to her mouth.
Ralph, her six-year-old boxer, scooted closer on the couch. He plopped his head into her lap and gazed up at her with adoring brown eyes. Behind him, her foster puppies Chip and Salsa lay piled on top of each other. Collectively, they took up nearly the whole couch, but Merry didn’t mind. She enjoyed having a couch full of happy dogs, especially knowing she had saved each one from an uncertain future at the shelter, guaranteeing them a happy ending through Triangle Boxer Rescue.
She’d founded TBR as a twenty-two-year-old fresh out of nursing school, eager to do more to help the dogs she’d come to love and depend on. Since then, she’d devoted as much of her time and hard-earned money as she could spare to saving abandoned and abused boxers in and around the small town of Dogwood, North Carolina.
She’d been successful too, at least at first. Several years ago, she’d begun receiving an anonymous donation of one thousand dollars a month from an unknown benefactor. She’d tried and failed to find out who was behind the mysterious donations, but at some point, she’d come to depend on them. Then six months ago, the donations had stopped. Now the rescue’s bank account was drained, and she’d nearly maxed out her personal credit card trying to cover the difference.
She traced her fingers over the zigzag pattern on her pajama pants. It was nearly nine o’clock, and she was ready to call it a night. She had a twelve-hour shift ahead of her tomorrow and needed a good night’s sleep.
A quiet knock sounded at her front door. Ralph lifted his head and let out a sleepy bark, while Chip and Salsa tumbled onto the floor in a tangle of puppy legs.
Merry sucked in a breath. Had God heard her prayer after all? Had someone arrived to miraculously bail Triangle Boxer Rescue out of financial ruin?
Not likely, but she’d always considered herself a glass-half-full kind of girl.
“Just a minute,” she called as she herded the puppies behind the gate in the kitchen then walked to the front door with Ralph at her side. She pressed her eye to the peephole, hesitant to open the door to an unexpected guest while in her pajamas.
A woman stood outside, dressed in a pink tank top and jean shorts. Wet tendrils of brown hair stuck to the sides of her face from the rain pouring beyond the safe shelter of Merry’s porch. She looked vaguely familiar. A neighbor, maybe?
Merry pulled the door open. Ralph let out a powerful bark, eyes fixed on the bedraggled dog at the woman’s side. It appeared to be some sort of Lab mix, with soggy amber fur and the kind of glazed eyes that Merry had seen too many times.
She gave Ralph a quick hand signal to keep him from greeting the unknown dog. He sat, tail wiggling against the hardwood floor.
“Hi,” the woman said, extending a rain-drenched hand. “I’m Kelly Pointer. I live down the street.” Kelly looked to the left, toward the cul-de-sac at the other end of the road.
Right. Merry had seen her before when she was out walking her dogs. She took Kelly’s hand and shook. “Sure. Hi, Kelly. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I heard you rescue dogs.” Kelly gestured to the dog at her feet. It stood, hunched, looking pathetic and miserable, and a heavy feeling settled in Merry’s gut.
God hadn’t sent an answer to her prayers. Instead, He’d added to her burden.
“Yes,” she answered carefully. “I’m the director of Triangle Boxer Rescue.”
She glanced pointedly at Ralph, still sitting politely at her side. He cocked his chestnut head, gazing up at their visitor with warm chocolate eyes that had melted many a heart.
“Well,” Kelly said, “I found this stray. She’s been wandering the neighborhood, and I was afraid she’d get hit by a car. I was hoping you could take her.”
Merry looked at the stray. The rain-soaked Lab mix avoided her gaze, looking like she’d dart off into the watery darkness if given half a chance. “Have you called the Dogwood Shelter to see if anyone’s looking for her?”
“Uh, no, I just brought her to you. I was hoping you could take her.” Her neighbor extended a thin piece of white rope that had been fashioned into a makeshift collar and leash.
“Well, I don’t exactly—” Merry gripped the rope, looking down at the pathetic dog on her front porch. This wasn’t the first time someone had brought her a random dog, expecting her to take it because she worked in animal rescue, and it wouldn’t be the last.
She’d always felt it a bit rude and presumptuous. It wasn’t as if Kelly didn’t have a home of her own where the dog could stay, warm and dry. Merry would have been happy to help her find the stray a home. But nope, she was apparently the designated receptacle for all unwanted dogs in the area, like it or not.
“Good luck with her. She seems sweet.” Kelly tucked her hands into her pockets and turned to go.
“Thanks, but I’ll probably have to bring her to the shelter in the morning.”
Kelly’s eyes rounded. “What? I thought maybe you could keep her, or something.”
“I run a rescue, for boxers. This is not a boxer. I already have two fosters and a dog of my own. I really can’t keep her.” Merry said the words. She meant them too. Then she glanced down at the dog huddled on her front porch, and she knew she’d never follow through.
Kelly shrugged. “Well, that sucks. I hope she finds a home.”
And with that, she walked off into the rainy night.
Merry looked at the dog who, for tonight at least, was hers. “So you’re spending the night with us, huh?” The soggy Lab mix stared at the floor of Merry’s porch, tail tucked between her legs. She reeked like wet, dirty dog.
Merry tied the rope around the railing. “Just a minute. I’ll be right back, okay?”
She stepped inside and put Ralph behind the gate in the kitchen with her two nosy foster puppies. She couldn’t introduce the new dog tonight, knowing nothing about her, and besides, she wasn’t keeping her long enough for it to matter.
She’d have her scanned for a microchip, call the local shelters, and
if all else failed, she’d look for another rescue to take her, because Merry couldn’t keep her. She never kept more than three.
And in case God had forgotten, Merry was broke. She’d learned a long time ago that she couldn’t save them all. It was a bitter lesson to swallow, but true, and important to remember, lest she drown in guilt over the ones who couldn’t be saved.
She returned to the porch with a towel and gently rubbed as much rainwater as she could from the soggy stray. “Ready to come inside?”
The dog planted her feet, unwilling to enter the house. Merry shrugged, unfazed. She sat on the top step, staring out into the rainy June night, still warm and muggy despite the hour.
“Life’s been pretty crappy to you lately, huh?” she said softly. “I know what that feels like. It’s going to get better though. At least you have a dry bed waiting for you tonight, right?”
She kept talking, watching the rain fall beyond the protection of her front porch. Finally, the stray took a hesitant step toward her.
Merry reached out and stroked her chest, telling her what a good girl she was, patiently earning her trust. After a while, she stood and gave the rope a gentle tug. The dog followed her into the house.
The boxers in the kitchen barked and pranced, eager to make acquaintance with their visitor. Not yet. The dog at her side was tense, defensive. Terrified.
Merry sat with her while she adjusted to being in the house. She gave her food and water and took her outside to potty. Then she led the still-frightened stray to the crate she kept in the den for new dogs just getting settled.
It would do. For tonight.
Excerpt from EVER AFTER
Love to the Rescue Book 3
Link to list of buy links: http://www.rachellacey.com/ever-after/
Chapter One
Red paint dripped from Olivia Bennett’s fingers. She tightened her grip on the metal canister in her right hand and gave it a solid shake. Beneath her feet, the ladder wobbled. With a startled squeak, she sent a burst of spray paint onto her boots.