A New Leash On Love (Furever Yours Book 1)

by Melissa Senate

  “Are you sure?” he whispered in her ear, trailing kisses along her collarbone.

  “I’m sure,” she said.

  And then, after retrieving a little foil packet from his wallet, he made her forget all about the storm, all about his stubbornness, all about the fact that he’d be leaving in a matter of days, once again with her heart.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Matt opened his eyes, aware of only the silence and Claire’s gentle breathing as she slept beside him.

  Silence.

  He gently touched Claire’s shoulder. “Hey, sleeping beauty.”

  She opened her eyes, then bolted upright. “It’s quiet.”

  “Exactly.”

  Well, it was quiet if you didn’t count the pig oinking in his pen at the far end of the barn. Someone wanted breakfast.

  “Let’s go see what’s going on outside, and then we’ll check on the barn animals,” she said.

  They both shimmied out of the sleeping bag and rushed to the barn door.

  “Wait,” he said, Claire’s hand ready to open the door. “We need to prepare ourselves. It could be really bad.”

  “I know.”

  The dogs padded over, Blaze looking much perkier than he had last night.

  “Careful, guys,” Matt said. “We’ll go out first and make sure it’s safe for your paws. Stay.”

  The dogs listened as Claire opened the door and sunlight poured into the barn. She looked out. “Oh no. Oh God. Matt.”

  She stood there, shaking her head, looking all around.

  Devastation was the only word for the scene outside. Trees were torn from their roots and lying sideways across the property. One had even fallen on the roof, but luckily, it hadn’t damaged the barn as far as he could see. The tornado had touched right down on Whitaker land, and had taken many of the huge old oak trees.

  “Over here, Hank and Blaze,” he said, allowing the dogs out in a safe area to do their business. The dogs seemed careful about stepping over branches and debris.

  “Oh God, Matt, the shelter. What if—”

  They could see the back of the building from where they stood, but not the front or the sides. They ran over, navigating through the downed tree limbs.

  Birdie and Bunny stood in front of Furever Paws, their arms around each other’s shoulders.

  “Birdie! Bunny!” Claire called.

  The Whitaker sisters turned around. Tough Birdie looked like she might cry. Bunny did have tears in her eyes as she shook her head.

  “Somehow our farmhouse was barely affected,” Bunny said. “We got darn lucky.”

  “The shelter fared worse,” Birdie said. “Right in the path of those huge oaks. There’s serious damage to the roof,” she added, pointing at where a big section had been blown off and now rested against some trees in the forested area. “And a lot of fencing is gone.”

  “A few of the storage sheds were blown away—one slammed into a tree and seems to have half pulled it up from the ground.”

  “But you and the volunteers are okay?” Matt asked. “All the animals are okay?”

  “All of us are fine,” Birdie assured him.

  “Same with the barn animals,” Claire said. “And these two,” she added, gesturing to where Hank and his shadow, Blaze, sniffed around.

  “Well, we sure could use your help walking all the dogs,” Birdie said. “Why don’t we start with the ones in the farmhouse, and then we’ll go see if the volunteers in the shelter basement are awake yet.”

  The four of them went into the farmhouse, Matt grateful the beautiful white home hadn’t been hit. In the basement, they each headed for a kennel, Matt going for the little chiweenie, Tucker. As they stepped back outside, letting the dogs stretch and walk around a bit, he was amazed that so much sunshine could follow such turbulent weather. It was early, barely seven, and chilly, but the day promised to be warmer than it had been lately.

  “The fenced play area is sound,” Bunny said. “So why don’t we put these guys in there and go see how the dogs in the shelter basement fared.”

  “You two also,” Claire said to Hank and Blaze, closing the gate behind them.

  Once the dogs were secured, and Matt made sure that none of the trees were possibly near enough to come crashing down on the shelter or play area, they all headed inside the shelter. The section of the roof that had been damaged was in the lobby, toward the side where the gift shop had been. Thankfully, Birdie and Bunny had packed everything and secured it, so nothing was damaged, except the table where people would sit to fill out applications; it lay on its side, and there was some bad water damage from where the rain had come in. It could be a lot worse, Matt thought.

  Just as they were about to head into the basement, the door leading downstairs opened, and two women stood there. “Boy, are we glad to see you all,” one said. Matt hadn’t met these women before yesterday, but he couldn’t be more grateful to them for staying with the animals. There were five dogs down there, and they all trooped down the stairs to bring them up on leashes.

  Finally, with those dogs settled in the play yard with the others, Birdie and Bunny hugged the two volunteers, who were anxious to leave and check on their homes.

  With the volunteers gone, Matt, Claire and the Whitaker sisters stood in the fenced yard, watching the dogs play. Even Tucker, who usually kept to himself, seemed glad to join the reunion, sniffing at a gentle shepherd mix’s ankles.

  “Just based on the roof and the fencing alone, I’m thinking we’re looking at around twenty thousand in damages,” Birdie said, eyeing the roof of the shelter.

  Bunny shook her head. “Thank goodness for solid insurance. And that no one was hurt. Boy, did we get lucky.”

  Birdie nodded. “And we haven’t walked the entire property—more downed trees might need hauling away.”

  “I hate this,” Matt said. “Furever Paws and Whitaker Acres are so special and necessary, they should be untouchable. Even from acts of God.”

  Birdie put a hand on his arm. “This is how it goes, though, isn’t it? Things get damaged and rebuilt, and life goes on.”

  He felt like she was talking about him. He knew she was. But some things were too damaged. Like himself.

  Claire stared at him, as if hoping the wise Birdie had gotten through to him, just like she’d been trying to do for weeks now. Why did he feel so stuck? Part of him wanted to grab Claire and tell her he loved her, that he wanted to be with her, build a life with her. But part of him just couldn’t. So he stayed silent.

  “Let’s go take a walk farther up,” Bunny said. “See how bad it is up near the road.”

  So much debris, Matt thought as they surveyed the land. He saw lids from garbage cans that weren’t Whitaker property, window shutters from God knew where. And so many tree limbs.

  “Oh Jesus, is that a dog?” Matt said, his heart stopping.

  “What? Where?” Claire said, looking at him, her beautiful green eyes frantic.

  “Under that big tree branch,” he said, pointing up ahead. A skinny black dog lay unmoving under the heavy branch. His eyes were open and he closed them every now and then, the only indication he was alive.

  “Oh God, it is,” Bunny said. “He’s trapped. Poor thing looks like he gave up the struggle to free himself. Not that he could, given the weight of that tree limb.”

  “He’s probably injured,” Birdie said. “But how are we going to get the limb off him without bringing down the entire tree on him?”

  Matt stared up at the rest of the tree, hanging in such a precarious position that could it could come toppling down any minute.

  “I’ve never seen this dog before,” Birdie said. “I sure as hell hope someone didn’t abandon it before the storm.” She shook her head, anger flashing in her blue eyes.

  “Maybe the thunder or the tornado spooked him, and he
ran off from his home and then got hit and trapped by the limb,” Claire said. “I can’t tell if he has a collar.”

  Matt couldn’t see either. “I have to help him. Somehow, someway.”

  “I don’t know Matt,” Birdie said. “We might have to call in our tree guy with his heavy equipment.”

  Matt shook his head. “If he can even get here. We don’t know how bad the roads are. And even if he could get here, the dog can’t have much longer.”

  I’m going to help you, he said silently to the dog as he advanced slowly toward the downed tree, his heart beating a mile a minute.

  “If you touch anything, that hanging branch could come crashing down on both your heads,” Bunny warned.

  He stared at the injured, scared dog and saw himself. Claire, Sparkle, Hank, his sister and Ellie, the Whitaker sisters, Zeke and Bobby—they’d all reached out to him and brought him back to himself. Now he was going to help that dog.

  Fear can’t stop me, he thought. Not from saving that dog. Not from life.

  Or from love. Because as Claire said, love is all there is. It makes everything else work.

  He sucked in a breath and turned back to look at Claire, to drink in the sight of her for sustenance. She believed in him—she’d always believed in him. And she’d helped him believe in himself. He was getting that tree limb off that dog. End of story.

  “I have some experience from my time overseas,” Matt assured everyone, moving closer to the dog, his gaze going from the precarious tree limb to the dog’s frantic eyes. “We were hit with all kinds of hard stuff in our path.”

  “Oh God, be careful,” Claire said.

  “I will,” he said. He looked at the dog. “I’m coming for you,” he said. “I’m going to get you out.”

  One wrong move and that tree limb would take them both out—permanently. You can do it, he told himself. Slow and steady. Then quicksilver. In a flash he thought about coming home to Spring Forest, the shock of seeing Claire. How a little girl’s birthday wish of a puppy had completely changed his life. What if I’d told my sister I didn’t know anything about dogs and left it to her to choose a pup? I likely never would have run into Claire. I certainly wouldn’t have trained Sparkle. Or adopted Hank. Or volunteered at Furever Paws and met the Whitaker sisters.

  I wouldn’t be here right now.

  Save that dog, he told himself.

  “Matt,” Claire said—from right behind him. “I’m going to help you.”

  He was about to say no, you could get hurt, but he could see the insistence in her eyes. She was determined. And Claire Asher didn’t care about getting hurt—she was front-line material.

  Yes. She was.

  He held out his hand and she took it.

  They walked over as silently as they could, since it was clear that any movement would topple the limb. He kept his eyes warm and on the pooch, who was staring at him, half-frantic, half-resigned to his fate—which probably hadn’t been all that great till this point.

  He calculated where to best lift the limb pinning the dog and noted a branch hanging precariously, just barely attached to it. “I’ll lift and you drag the dog out,” he said.

  She nodded. “Got it.”

  “You might get bitten,” he warned.

  She waved a hand. “Hazard of life.”

  He stared at her and reached out a hand to her cheek, then turned his attention back to the heavy limb trapping the dog.

  “We’ve got this,” she said, holding his gaze.

  He believed her.

  “On my count, pup, okay?” he whispered to the dog. “One. Two. Three.”

  Before three had finished echoing in his head, he used every bit of strength he had—and a hell of lot in reserve—and lifted the limb up. Claire grabbed the dog under his front arms and pulled him clear.

  His arms about to burst, Matt dropped the limb, and the hanging branch came crashing down right on the spot where the poor stray had been.

  His heart was booming. He stood, his eyes closed, his legs buckling, his bad leg unable to deal.

  “Oh, Matt,” Claire said, rushing over, cradling the dog against her chest. “You did it. We did it. This sweet dog did it.” She kissed the top of the dog’s head, stroking its clumped, wet fur.

  “I’ll take him,” Birdie said, stretching out her arms. “Her, actually,” she added, as Claire transferred the dog to her arms. Bunny must have run to the barn for a towel, because she wrapped the poor thing up as Birdie shifted her in her arms. The dog looked so relieved to be warm and drying off.

  “I’ll call Doc J and see if he can come right away,” Birdie said. “Her leg looks injured.”

  She and Bunny rushed the dog back into the shelter.

  “You can take the man out of the army, but you can’t take the army out of the man,” Claire said.

  He grabbed her to him and held her, relishing the feeling of her arms tightening around him. “We’re all okay,” he said, hearing the wonder in his own voice.

  “We’re all okay,” she repeated, placing her hands on either side of his jaw.

  His mind had gone as jelly-like as his legs, so he let himself sit back and catch his breath, let his heart rate come back down to normal. But nothing was normal anymore. Not Furever Paws or the Whitaker land stretched out before him, devastation as far as the eye could see.

  And not him.

  * * *

  Claire kept glancing at Matt as they all waited for Doc J to arrive to check on the injured dog. Matt had been very quiet since they’d gone inside to join the others. Now it was just the two of them in the shelter’s examination room—and the dog, of course, a female mixed-breed that lay on a padded exam table.

  Birdie had said it was a good sign that the dog had accepted a few treats from her, and her eyes did look brighter now that she was safe, though it was clear she was in pain. Right now, the dog seemed content to lay there without being pinned by the heavy tree limb, her rescuers cooing at her, petting her side.

  Claire didn’t know how she didn’t melt into a puddle on the floor, her heart was so overflowing with love for this man.

  Birdie and Bunny had gone out to the yard to check on the dogs, and make a plan for what to do with everyone until the roof could be taken care of and all the fencing restored.

  “You’re going to be okay,” Matt said to the dog, gently patting its side. “You’re in the best possible place now. Doc J will get you fixed up, and then someone will give you a good home. You’ll be fine.”

  The dog gave Matt’s hand a lick as he reached to scratch her ears.

  Matt smiled. “No thanks necessary. Anyone would have done it.”

  “But you did,” Claire said. “And whether you like it or not, Matt Fielding, you’re going to have to listen to me tell you that you’re more of a man than any I’ve ever known. And I love you. I know you’re not a coward, so if you do leave Spring Forest and leave me, it’s not because you’re scared of commitment or love. It’s because you don’t love me. I get that now.”

  His mouth dropped open. He’d been a coward when it came to her. Afraid to let himself feel what he truly felt. Afraid to let himself have something so precious.

  “I do love you,” Matt said, looking into her eyes. “I absolutely do love you, Claire Asher.”

  “But...” she prompted, waiting for it. Bracing herself, tears poking her eyes and her heart so heavy she was about to drop to the floor.

  “Not buts,” he said. “I just love you. And you’re right, I’m not a coward. So why the hell would I leave Spring Forest when everything I love is here? When you’re here.” He walked over to her and held out his arms. She rushed into them, closing her eyes, reveling in the feel of his arms around her, holding her tight.

  “I truly thought I had nothing to offer you, and you showed me that I do,” he said. “I’m just sorry it too
k me so long—and a tornado—to see it.”

  Claire smiled. “I call that the silver lining.”

  He reached both hands to the sides of her face and stared at her with so much love, so much intensity in his eyes, it was almost too much to bear. She’d seen that look before, when they’d been very young and deeply in love, no cares in the world. Now there were cares, but the look remained. She called that serious progress. “Eighteen years later, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife and sharing your life with me?”

  Okay, now she was crying. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes.”

  “And, Claire, remember when I said a long, long time ago that if we had a baby I’d want to name him Jesse, after my brother?”

  She held her breath. “Yes, of course I remember.” She remembered what else he’d said too. Not that long ago.

  “Let’s have a baby,” he said. “It’s lucky that Jesse would work for a boy or a girl.”

  “Baby Jesse,” she repeated, wrapping her arms around him. She put her head on his chest and stayed like that for a good minute. “Oh, Matt? I do have one request for our new life together.”

  “Anything,” Matt said.

  “If no one claims our new buddy here, I’d like to foster her—I’d like us to foster her—once she’s given the okay by Doc J.” Birdie had checked for a microchip and there wasn’t one, but protocol meant alerting lost dogs websites and hanging flyers and waiting five days to see if anyone would come looking for her. Then she could be put up for adoption. But she’d need nursing back to health and training—and that was Claire Asher’s specialty.

  “Sounds like a great idea to me,” he said. “I have a good name for her too, if the Whitaker sisters will give up naming rights. Hope.”

  She grinned. “Hope is a great name. A perfect name for her.”

  Just then, the black dog on the table let out a little bark as if she agreed. Claire’s eyes widened. “She likes the name!”

  “Sparkle, Hank and Hope can be our ring bearers,” he said. “And Blaze, unless he finds his forever home before then.”