Page 29 of A Furever Home (Gaynor Beach Animal Rescue #8)

ARTHUR

I stayed up too late, waiting for Brooklyn to get back to me, but he never did.

On the plus side, by the time I gave up, my head and stomach were better enough for me to scramble some eggs on toast for a midnight snack and enjoy them.

I focused on that instead of the hollow feeling of wondering if something important had come up, or I just wasn’t a priority.

Next morning, I’d fed and exercised the dogs in the yard, taken joy in a real shower, dressed, and was about to call for a cab to the shelter, when my phone chimed a text.

Brooklyn.

Any chance you’d have a little free time this morning?

My immediate reaction was, for you? Absolutely. I didn’t want to be corny, though.

Sure. What…

What can I do for you? What do you need me for? Want me to come over and kiss your… I shoved down my newly active libido and went with,

What’s up?

And was glad I hadn’t gone sexy or personal when he replied,

It’s this dog, Sadie. The owner never came back. I need to get her to the vet to see if she has a chip and make sure she’s healthy. Plus maybe Dr. Louisa will recognize her

I had a chip reader at the shelter, but couldn’t offer the other two things.

Sure. You want me to take her?

Would you? That’d be a lifesaver. Cheyenne wants to go, but she’s not 18, to start an official record, and I have two meathead daycare pups I can’t leave alone with her either

Glad to

I answered, then realized,

except my car’s at the shelter

James had driven it there after my accident and I hadn’t used it since. And I wasn’t cleared to drive.

Cheyenne can come get you in my SUV. She just can’t do paperwork. Where are you staying?

Shane’s place

I texted him the address.

After a pause, my phone rang for a voice call. Brooklyn again.

I answered, “Yeah? Problem?”

“No, God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even ask if you were okay or how your head is doing or if you have to work or anything. I just leaned on you.”

The sound of his flustered tones made me feel warm inside.

“Seems like I leaned on you a lot last week. I don’t mind.

Happy to help. My head’s okay and as long as Cheyenne’s driving, in case the vertigo hits, I don’t mind seeing Dr. Louisa one bit.

” The vet was one of my favorite people.

She’d often cut me a break with rescue pets and still gave the shelter a big discount.

“Good. Great. Thank you.” He blew out a long breath. “It’s been a long day and a half, I tell you.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Other than the dog? Well, not wrong so much as stressful. More for Cheyenne than me, so I’m glad Sadie’s keeping her distracted. But life’s making me a bit nuts.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“So much.” His tone warmed. “You have no idea. But we need to get moving on Sadie.”

“Afterward,” I offered. “I can come by your place and we can chat.”

“Do you have time? That’d be…You know, that would be awesome .”

The idea that he wanted me there, that the thought of talking to me made him sound so happy, filled an empty space inside me. “Absolutely. Count on it. See you later.”

I realized after I hung up that I didn’t know how fast Cheyenne would show up, but I was dressed for work so that was fine.

I called the shelter and let Neil know I’d be taking a personal day.

I apologized again, but he assured me they’d be fine.

He’d cover the front desk, which had been my main job while my leg healed.

He laughed at my apologies and told me I had vacation time coming, which wasn’t true, because I set my own schedule.

Plus even if I did, the month Shane was away would be the wrong time to take it.

But he was trying to make me feel better for ditching my work again, so I thanked him.

When Brooklyn’s old SUV pulled up out front, I said a final goodbye to the pups, and to Xandra who turned her back on me and gazed out the window.

Cheyenne looked somehow older when I eased into the passenger seat and glanced her way. The expression on her face, maybe, some strain in her eyes I didn’t remember. Not that I’d spent a lot of time looking at her. But I had to ask, “Are you okay?”

She flicked a glance my way. “Brooklyn made me put Sadie in a crate in the second row. I wanted her beside me. She doesn’t like the crate.”

“It’s safer, though,” I told her. “Ask Dr. Louisa about the dogs she sees thrown through the windshield or hit by an airbag.”

“Oh.” She backed out of the driveway. “I guess.”

I didn’t add that a dog standing in the driver’s lap could end up dead and smooshed into her chest by the airbag. I was maybe a bit obsessed with car safety, but I didn’t have to gross out the teenager. I turned to look over my shoulder and murmured to Sadie, “Hey, girl. Doing okay?”

“Her owner never came last night. She didn’t want her. It’s not fair she still has fourteen days to take Sadie back.” Cheyenne glowered harder.

“It’s the law,” I said mildly. “But Brooklyn could charge her a thousand dollars a night for unscheduled boarding fees. Good bet the owner would rather sign her over than pay.”

“Really?” A slow smile crept over Cheyenne’s face. “Yeah. I like that. You’re okay.”

“You didn’t think so yesterday.” I wanted to bite my tongue when her smile vanished, but she sighed.

“Sorry. I was kind of a bitch. Things are weird and scar—strange right now.”

“That’s okay. I can’t imagine hitching all the way across the country at seventeen. Finally getting to a safe haven and then finding your brother busy with someone else.”

She shot me a fast glance. “Yeah. Something like that.” The GPS directed her through a left turn.

“Are you going to be able to stay with Brooklyn? I know he hopes you will.” I figured knowing that she was wanted would be important right now.

“God, I hope so. Dad was scary mad about me being here.”

“Your father? He knows where you are?”

“Yeah. We had to call him. The lawyer said so. But Dad said he’d send my brother after me, and I wasn’t going to escape again and all that bullshit.” She flicked me another look, like I might comment on her language.

I figured she was entitled. “For what it’s worth, Brooklyn will never let them take you away.”

“Brooklyn’s the smallest of my brothers. Well, least strong, anyway. Tall like a beanpole, but the others are fighters.”

“Well, I won’t let them either. Is your brother bigger than me?” I hoped I could make her feel safer.

She looked me over at the stoplight. “No, I don’t think so. About your size.”

“So Brooklyn and I together can take him, right?”

The crinkle of her nose said she was doubtful, which was fair enough because honestly, I’d never been a fighter even without a bad leg.

I added, “Chili and Sadie can trip him, Ebony will sit on him, Xandra will use him for a scratching post, and Twain will blind him with face-licking.”

That got a tiny giggle from her. “Okay.” Then she sighed. “At least he’s driving. That means we have a couple of days before Denver can possibly get here even if he drives straight through. I looked the distance up in the library back home.”

“Denver’s his name?”

“Next oldest brother after Brooklyn. Denver, Austin, and our sister’s Nevada, then me.”

“Wow, your parents really had a thing, huh?”

“All-American.” Her lips twisted.

I hurried to add, “Although Cheyenne’s a great name.”

“I don’t mind it. I wouldn’t want to be Nevada. Or be like her.” Her hands tightened on the steering wheel, her knuckles whitening. “I’m not going back. Just not.”

“I promise,” I said recklessly. “Brooklyn’s pretty new in town, but he has me, and I have friends, people I can call on.

” I maybe hadn’t realized until this whole episode how many friends I had.

“Worst comes to worst, we’ll sic James’s mama on him.

She’s a force of nature.” I gestured. “There’s the clinic. ”

We parked and Cheyenne got the carrier out of the back.

I let her carry the dog inside, since I was still ungainly with the cane.

We stopped at the front desk, and I told the receptionist, “We have a dog abandonment situation. We need to get her scanned for a chip, and figure out if she’s been missed by anyone. ”

“Aw, Arthur. That’s too bad.” Christa had worked the front desk a lot of years and knew me well. “I’ll let Dr. Louisa know you’re here.” She called to the back.

A few minutes later, the head technician, Oscar, came to meet us. “Hey, let’s get you into an exam room. We can scan for a chip and weigh her in there, if she’s small enough to fit in that carrier.”

When we coaxed the dog out on the floor, Oscar eyed her. “I’d swear that’s Sadie.”

“Yes. That was her name. She was left at my friend Brooklyn’s doggie daycare and never picked up.”

“Let me verify.” Oscar waved a circular wand over Sadie’s shoulders, then went to a computer terminal in the corner and entered her chip number. “Yes, same Sadie. They just left her?”

“Unless they were in an accident and are in a coma. But the phone number came up as out of service.”

“Those creeps!” Oscar paused as the little dog jumped at the anger in his tone.

He murmured, “No, not you baby. Here, have a treat. Have three treats.” He tossed her some tiny bites, and went on quietly, “Sadie belonged to Mrs. Robertson, an elderly client who passed away a few weeks ago. Her son and daughter-in-law called asking about putting Sadie to sleep, but we said we wouldn’t do it.

She’s only seven, and basically healthy.

She has some anxiety, and takes time to warm up to people, but she’s not aggressive, just afraid.

Dr. Louisa sent them all kinds of behavior references and the shelter info. ”

“I guess they decided abandoning her was cheaper than paying our shelter drop-off fee,” I grumbled. We waived the fee for folks who really couldn’t afford it and for strays, but for voluntary surrenders we did charge a modest amount. “Cheapskate creeps.”