“No, no,” she reassured him. “I’m fine. The real kind of fine.”
“Yeah,” he said, “you are.” He looked down at their clasped hands, then up into her eyes. “I do, you know.”
“What?”
“Love you. I don’t know—” His breath caught, and his eyes took on a suspicious sheen. “I don’t know if I’d have figured any of this shit out on my own, but I do know that if it weren’t for you, it wouldn’t matter so much.”
Lizzie’s throat was so tight, she could barely breathe, much less speak.
“It’s okay if you need to think about it for a while. If, you know, if you’re not sure about what you said earlier.”
“I love you, too,” she said.
“Oh, thank God.”
She laughed, and then he did, too. He straightened, turned to the truck, and snapped his fingers. “D-Day, come here, buddy.”
The dog leapt over the side of the truck and stopped, grinning and drooling, next to Adam. From his back pocket, Adam produced a piece of red cloth.
D-Day took it in his mouth and brought it to Lizzie, dropping his giant head in her lap.
“What’s this?” Lizzie asked, accepting the slightly soggy fabric and giving D-Day a pat. She straightened it out and untangled the straps. “Big Chance Support Dogs” was embroidered across the back, and one side said, “D-Day.”
“Talbott ordered it from the internet,” Adam said. “He might have been a little premature, but he did have the right idea. We need you to be a part of this. Jake’s on board, and I’m pretty sure Talbott will help when he’s feeling better, and maybe we can get Granddad settled and free Emma up to do stuff if she wants, but you’re the one with that thing we need.”
“That thing?”
“Yeah. That get-it-done, figure-it-out, make-it-work thing.”
She didn’t think she could smile any wider, but she did.
“Would you do the honors?” Adam led D-Day closer to Lizzie, and she put the vest on the dog. He looked quite dapper.
“So, Big Chance, not Last Chance?” Lizzie asked.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Adam said with a wry smile. “Turns out Big Chance isn’t so bad after all.”
Chapter 37
Lizzie stood in front of the mayor with her dad on one side and Adam on the other.
Joe Chance bent his head to the certificate on his desk and signed it with a flourish, then looked up with a grin and said, “I now pronounce you Big Chance, Texas’s new director of parks and recreation.”
Joe rose to shake Lizzie’s hand and then handed Adam a fat envelope.
They’d managed to get everything squared away on the same day: Adam and Emma closed on the sale of the Mill Creek property to Chance County, Lizzie signed a contract to not only oversee the creation of the Vanhook Historical Recreation Park but also to supervise rehabilitation of a playground next to the courthouse and to head up the Big Chance Convention and Visitors’ Bureau.
And Adam had himself an official nonprofit corporation: Big Chance Ranch Rescue and Support Animals.
“Joe, we’re having lunch at Dairy Queen, if you’d like to join us,” Dad told the mayor as they filed out of his office.
“Thanks, but I promised to take the girls Halloween costume shopping,” Joe said with a grimace. He pushed the front door of the courthouse open, and everyone filed down the steps into the still-hot October afternoon.
“Do you want to ride with me?” Dad asked, digging his car keys from his pocket.
Lizzie looked at Adam and said, “No, I think we’ll walk.”
“Okay, see you there in a minute.” Dad, who was doing incredibly well now that his chemo was done, still needed as much air-conditioning as he could get and drove the few blocks to the restaurant.
“How are you doing?” Lizzie asked Adam when they were alone on the sidewalk. He took her hand as they walked toward Dairy Queen.
He shook his head. “I’m not sure. I really appreciate your dad helping me put together the business plan, but I can’t help but think we’ve missed some details.”
Lizzie nodded. “I know. Me, too. But I also know that we’ve got a huge group of people pulling for both of us, so if we stumble, someone will help get us back up.”
“You’re incredible,” he said, leaning in to kiss her.
“Right back at you,” she said, still pinching herself over the fact that this guy was in love with her and making plans for a long, happy future in Big Chance.
It hadn’t been too hard to convince Mitch to relinquish his claim on the Mill Creek property, since the mayor informed him that he owed thousands and thousands in back taxes.
Mitch and his gun-wielding friend were both in jail, each awaiting trial on a variety of charges, from kidnapping to fraud to cruelty to animals. It seemed like justice that both men were going to be spending a long time in cages.
“I can’t believe I’ve got a new job,” Lizzie said. “I love working at Vanhook Realty, but now that Dad’s doing better, he really doesn’t need my help that much. Besides, this feels more like a big-girl job, since I got it on my own. Now, I’ve just got to find a big-girl place to live.” It had gotten really difficult to find time and space to be alone with Adam over the past few weeks, and she was pretty desperate to find some digs of her own.
“I’m sure you’ll find something soon,” Adam said.
As they approached Dairy Queen, she saw Marcus and Jake sitting at one of the outdoor tables with Patton, Loretta, and D-Day on leashes. The puppies had been dropped off at the vet for checkups and shots.
“Come on, Hoss, Hossette,” Marcus urged. “They’re gonna run out of ice cream.”
“We’re coming,” Adam said, rolling his eyes. He reached to open the door for her, and as the first gasp of air-conditioning reached her skin, Lizzie and Adam were hit with a giant, “Surprise!”
A crowd of people spilled out of the restaurant, carrying balloons and signs that said “Congratulations” and “Welcome Home For Good!”
“Wow,” Adam said, blinking. “This is…”
“Nuts,” Lizzie finished.
Mom, Dad, Emma, Granddad, and Mom’s party planning ladies all crowded around Lizzie and Adam to offer congratulations and good wishes. A couple of Big Chance sheriff’s deputies were there as well.
After a moment, however, the Dairy Queen door opened again, and a giant ice cream cake appeared, carried by a woman—
“Is that you, Crystal?” Lizzie asked.
“Yep,” she said, putting the platter down on a picnic table and grabbing the plates and knives that were already there. “Clint got laid off from the tire plant over near Fredericksburg, so he’s home with the baby.”
“Well, it’s good to see you,” Lizzie said, “but I’m sorry Clint’s out of work.”
Crystal shrugged. “It’s good for him to be with the baby.”
Within minutes, everyone was digging in to ice cream cake.
“Where’s your other friend?” Deputy Diamond asked. “How’s he doing?”
“Zimmerman’s doing better,” Adam said, though Lizzie noticed he didn’t smile when he said it. “He’s staying with his parents while he recuperates from his last surgery, but I think he might come back to stay with us at the ranch for a while soon.”
“That’s…good?” Diamond asked.
“It is,” Marcus, who was sitting nearby, said. “It’s not good that his life is pretty messed up right now, but it’s good that there’s someplace he can come to get his head together.”
And it was, Lizzie thought. Adam planned to take in as many rescue dogs as he could afford to and train as many as possible to work as support animals in some capacity, and he wanted to populate the ranch with veterans who needed a hand up. Marcus and Jake would help with the ranch operations while Marcus worked with Patton to train him to be a mob
ility assistance dog and Jake tried to find a dog who would help him with his directionality issues.
Emma stopped by the table, holding Granddad’s hand. He’d recovered physically from the incident at Mill Creek, but his dementia seemed worse, and Emma finally agreed that an adult day center was necessary. “We’re going to get back to Bright Days,” she told Lizzie and Adam now.
“How’s your ice cream?” Adam asked Lizzie once they’d said goodbye to Emma and Granddad.
“Oh!” she said, digging her spoon into the softened mess of gooey awesomeness. “I don’t know.”
“Hey, Adam,” Jake said, holding up his phone. “I think we need to find another bed or two.”
“What?”
“I just got a text message from Zimmerman. He’s coming back to the ranch next week and bringing a friend.”
“Oh,” Adam said. “That’s, um…great.”
“Where are you going to put them?” Lizzie asked. “The barn?” The farmhouse was already bursting at the seams with just the three men and a few dogs.
“I guess the first order of business is to expand the horse shed into a bunkhouse,” Adam said. “Hey, Crystal,” he called.
“Yeah?”
“Do you think Clint wants a job doing some construction?”
She nodded emphatically. “Yes. He does.”
Adam laughed. “Well, tell him to call me. I need some help on the ranch.” To Lizzie, he said, “Eat your ice cream.”
“Are you trying to keep me fat?” she asked but dug her spoon in again anyway.
“I’m trying to keep you perfect,” he told her, putting an arm around her and pulling her close, just as her spoon hit something hard at the bottom of the ice cream.
She dug through the mess and came up with a couple of flat metal pieces. There were two, and they looked like dog tags. What the heck? With a suspicious glance at Adam, she swished them through a cup of water that a grinning Crystal slid toward her.
One of the tags read, “D-Day, Property of Adam and Lizzie, 9873 Wild Wager Rd.” The other had Loretta’s name but was otherwise the same.
Lizzie looked up at Adam, who gazed at her with a hell of a lot of love and a smidgen of uncertainty. “I know a really wonderful house you can move into if you’re interested,” he said.
“Hey, Crystal,” Lizzie said. “How soon do you think Clint can start working on that horse shed?”
Acknowledgments
Writing is considered a solitary job, but wow—there are a lot of people to thank once the book is all ready to head into the world!
My family is first. Thank you for understanding why I don’t cook or clean, and that sometimes I flake out completely. I love each of you way further than to the moon and back.
I’d like to thank everyone at Sourcebooks who has worked so hard on the Big Chance Dog Rescue series, especially Cat Clyne, for believing in this project and having the patience to see it come to fruition.
Thanks to Nicole Resciniti for being the best agent ever and having all the faith—especially when my own well was running a little low.
We each write our own stories, but other authors are critical: Dawn Alexander, thanks for being at the other end of emergency “I have a Texas question” texts. To Kari Lynn Dell, for sharing real cowgirl stuff—I’m gonna work that cow-cam in somewhere. To my Passionate Critter peeps, thanks for welcoming me into your system and holding me up through the last few rounds of edits—seems like someone’s always on the Facebook chat to offer a “You can do it!” Watch out, girls—there are more books to come!
To my friend Dave S., who shared a lot of painful, scary stuff and gave me a glimpse into the heart and mind of a vet. To every other veteran and service member—saying “thank you for your service” isn’t enough, but I’ll keep trying to figure out what is.
Author’s Note
In Romancelandia, it was easy to miraculously find a couple of stray dogs for Adam and crew to train as service dogs, but in real life, it takes a lot of hard work, money, and time to find the right dog to do the amazing things a service animal can do. As research for this series, I decided I should try to get my dogs to do more than simply come when I call them and not poop inside. I now have one dog who can also shake hands—impressive, right?
A few years ago, I was fortunate enough to spend a week with a PTSD service dog, Goose, and her trainer, Cole. I was blown away by how well this dog handled herself (and by all of her cool tricks). A few days into our trip, my dad passed away after a long illness. I had been prepared for that day, although I’d hoped it wouldn’t happen while I was away with no immediate flight home. When I ran into Cole and Goose after getting the news, the first thing Goose did was rise onto her hind legs and lick my face. Several times that day, stuck in Las Vegas and far from my family, Goose came to rest her head on my lap and asked to be petted, reminding me I wasn’t alone. So, yeah—I’m a believer in what these dogs can do. If you’d like to know more, visit gotyoursixsupportdogs.org.
And a note about pit bulls: Few would argue that pit bulls are among the most controversial canine breeds in the world—many areas have laws against owning pit bull–type dogs—even though there’s no across-the-board agreement on what makes a dog a pit bull. I did an informal survey and found that 75 percent of the dogs in a nearby large-city shelter are pit bulls and pit-mixes. Too many are euthanized because they are not adopted. Most are sweet, gentle creatures, although some have been treated horribly and can be aggressive—as can any breed. While I don’t suggest everyone go out today and adopt a pit bull, I will say this: please support your local animal shelter and rescue groups!
About the Author
When Teri Anne Stanley isn’t working as a professional science geek, she’s usually writing, though sometimes you’ll find her trying to convince her rescue dogs that “sit” doesn’t mean on the couch. She’s definitely not cooking or cleaning.
In her endless spare time, she’s the human half of a therapy dog team, an amateur genealogist, and a compulsive crafter. Along with a variety of offspring and dogs, she and Mr. Stanley enjoy boating and relaxing at their estate, located in the thriving metropolis of Sugartit, between Beaverlick and Rabbit Hash, Kentucky.
Visit her at teriannestanley.com.
If you love dogs as much as we do, you won’t want to miss this charming new series from author Lucy Gilmore, featuring service dogs and the people they bring together. Read on for a sneak peek!
Lila was going to kill her sisters for this.
“Lila! Lila Vasquez!” A voice hailed her from across the crowded ballroom floor. It was followed by the bustling of a woman in a tasteful two-piece dress suit. A pang of envy flooded through Lila for that neat, pearly-gray fabric, but it was a short-lived sentiment.
Mostly because it was immediately replaced by embarrassment. And despair. And the overwhelming urge to throw herself out the nearest window.
She changed her mind. Death was too good for her sisters. Nothing less than lifelong torment would do.
“Aren’t you so brave,” the woman cooed as she came to a halt. Her sweeping gaze took in the full glory of Lila’s billowing bubble-gum-pink ball gown. If the color wasn’t bad enough, the fact that she was followed by a trail of sparkles everywhere she went was. She’d left the ladies’ restroom looking like a glitter bomb had gone off in one of the stalls. “I wish I could wear something like that, but at our age, you know…”
Yes, Lila did know. No one over the age of twenty-one should ever leave the house in this shade of pink. Unfortunately, Sophie and Dawn had interpreted the Once Upon a Time theme literally. Instead of the costume party she’d been assured awaited her inside these doors, Lila had found herself inside a nonprofit event as upscale as it was elegant. She stuck out like a sore thumb.
A giant, pink, puffy thumb.
“It’s so nice to see you, Kathy,” she said, forcing a
smile. It probably looked about as plastic as she felt, but she was determined to stay put. She’d been invited to this ball as an established and vital part of Spokane’s hearing services community. Its purpose was to raise funds for the hearing impaired, largely for the purchase of medical equipment, implants, hearing assistive tech…and service dogs.
Lila might look silly—and feel just as ridiculous—but her dogs deserved a seat at the table, metaphorically speaking. She’d give them that even if it meant she had to stand here all night, shedding glitter into fifty-dollar glasses of champagne.
“I’m excited to hear who will be getting our puppy donation,” she said in what she hoped was a casual tone. “So are my sisters. I’m supposed to text them the moment I find out. Do you know when they’ll be making the announcements?”
Kathy waved an airy hand. She was one of the ball organizers, but she had less to do with the details and more to do with squeezing large donations out of the city’s finest. “You’ll have to ask Anya. She has the full schedule. I only came by to ask where you got that gorgeous dress. My daughter’s winter formal is coming up, and they’re doing Candy Land this year. That’s exactly what we’ve been looking for.”
It was enough to send a lesser woman fleeing for the nearest hiding place. Lila had spotted several already, each one more appealing than the last. There was a huge banquet table she could crawl underneath to wait out the evening’s events, or a swan ice sculpture dripping in the entryway that might provide an adequate shield. In a pinch, even that pair of waiters with giant silver platters could help her make a quick getaway.
But Lila stood her ground. Lila always stood her ground. Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor extreme social embarrassment—
“Oh God.” Catching sight of a familiar man by the entryway, she whirled around, her skirt ballooning around her legs. “This can’t be happening.”
“What can’t be happening?” Kathy asked, her brows raised. She took a sip of her champagne, a wayward piece of glitter clinging to her upper lip. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
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