Page 21

T he familiar sign for the Sapphire Bay Animal Shelter came into view as Lynda rounded the final curve in the road.

She’d driven straight from the airport, her rental car filled with the essentials she’d packed for what would now be a permanent move rather than a brief return.

The rest of her belongings would follow once she’d finalized the sale of her house and practice.

Lynda hadn’t told anyone she was coming back two days ahead of schedule.

She preferred to surprise her friends after the whirlwind of decisions and arrangements she’d made in Denver.

Robert had been both shocked and delighted when she’d brought forward their timeline for the practice sale, and they’d spent her final days in Denver discussing patient transitions.

As she pulled into the shelter’s gravel parking lot, her heart quickened with anticipation. This modest building, with its peeling paint and slightly crooked “Adopt Me!” sign, already felt more like home than her elegant Denver practice ever had.

Carol was at the front desk when Lynda entered. Her reading glasses were perched on the end of her nose as she examined a stack of donation forms. She looked up, and her expression shifted from intense concentration to one of surprise and delight.

“Lynda!” she exclaimed, rushing around the desk to envelop her in a warm hug. “You weren’t supposed to be back until Saturday! Why didn’t you tell us?”

Lynda returned the embrace, surprised by how much she’d missed this place and its people. “I wanted it to be a surprise. Things in Denver wrapped up sooner than I expected.”

Carol held her at arm’s length, studying her face. “You look different. Good different. Like you’ve made some big decisions.”

“I have,” Lynda confirmed, unable to keep the smile from her face. “Very big ones. But first, how are the puppies?”

Carol smiled. “They’re growing in leaps and bounds. Matt keeps updating the community Facebook page. Mabel Terry has been interviewing everyone involved in their care and posting short videos on all the social media platforms you can imagine.”

“I saw some of the videos. Mabel’s done a great job.” Lynda leaned against the desk. “Have you been busy at the shelter?”

“No busier than usual. Thanks to our fundraising efforts, we were able to repair the shelter after the storm, and the animals are now safe and warm. With all the publicity about the wolfdog puppies and our funding crisis, people are sending us donations.” Carol took a check out of an envelope.

“This is for two hundred dollars. Can you believe that total strangers are sending us this much money?”

“They must be impressed by what the shelter is doing,” Lynda told her friend.

“That’s exactly what Matt’s been saying,” Carol said. “He’s here now, actually. He’ll be thrilled to see you.”

Carol pushed open the door to the shelter’s largest play area.

The space had been transformed into a puppy paradise, with climbing platforms, tunnels, and various toys scattered across the floor.

In the center of the playground, five wolfdog puppies tumbled over each other, their silver-gray coats gleaming in the light from the skylights.

Lynda’s mouth dropped open. “I didn’t know the pups were here.”

Carol grinned. “Matt and Sarah brought them to the shelter yesterday. The clinic was wonderful while they were little, but they needed to be somewhere with more room. With the remodeling we did, the shelter is the perfect place for them.”

“They’ve gotten so big!” Lynda exclaimed, kneeling at the edge of the enclosure.

At the sound of her voice, Star lifted her head, ears perked forward. With a yip of what Lynda could only interpret as recognition, the puppy bounded across the enclosure, tail wagging furiously.

“She remembers you,” Carol said softly as Star stood on her hind legs and leaned against the wall of the enclosure, looking up at Lynda with excited eyes.

“Hello, little girl,” Lynda murmured as she rubbed the back of Star’s head. Though still the smallest of the litter, she’d grown into a healthy young animal, her once-frail body now solid with muscle and vibrant energy.

The other puppies soon noticed the newcomer and raced over, creating a chaotic swirl of fur and excitement in front of Lynda. Only Rainier held back, watching with the cautious nature that had marked him since their rescue.

“They’ve missed you,” said a voice from the doorway.

Lynda looked up, her heart skipping a beat as she met Matt’s gaze. He stood at the entrance to the play area, a medical bag in one hand, his blue eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and something deeper she couldn’t quite name.

“Matt,” she said, her voice softer than she’d intended. “I was going to call you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” he replied, setting down his bag and crossing to where she knelt in front of the puppies. “This is a much better surprise.”

Carol cleared her throat. “I’ll be at the reception desk if you need me.”

Lynda nodded and made room for Matt as he kneeled beside her.

“You came back early,” he said. “Is everything okay in Denver?”

“Better than okay,” Lynda told him with a smile. “Robert’s buying the practice. It officially belongs to him next Friday, and my house will be on the market by next week.”

Matt’s hands stilled where he’d been scratching Rainier’s ears. “You’re selling everything? Are you sure?”

Lynda met his gaze. “I’m sure. I’ve given it a lot of thought and talked it through with Amy. This is where I want to be.”

Something in Matt’s expression changed into quiet joy. “That sounds great to me. I’m halfway through giving the puppies their weekly health check. Do you want to help?”

Lynda nodded. “I’d love to. Which pup are you up to?”

Matt pointed to Rainier. “This little man’s up next.”

As they checked the last three puppies, they fell into a familiar routine, examining each puppy for weight gain, proper development, and any health concerns.

Matt typed Star’s weight into his spreadsheet. “Star’s gained another pound.”

Lynda felt a surge of pride as she checked the puppy’s heartbeat. “She’s still the smallest, but her proportions are perfect for her size.”

“Like someone else I know,” Matt said with a grin.

Their eyes met over the examination table. Two weeks had felt like an eternity, Lynda realized. The daily photos and messages had been a lifeline, but nothing compared to being here, working alongside Matt, seeing the subtle crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiled.

“I missed this,” she said, gesturing to encompass the puppies, the shelter, and him.

“I missed you,” Matt replied. He hesitated, then added more softly. “More than I expected to.”

The admission touched Lynda’s heart. In a world where her ex-husband had found it so easy to discard three decades of marriage, Matt’s straightforward acknowledgment of his feelings felt like a precious gift.

“I missed you, too,” she confessed. “Denver didn’t feel like home anymore. Nothing felt right.”

Matt’s smile deepened, and he reached across the table to briefly touch her hand.

“I had the same feeling, only here in Sapphire Bay.” One of the pups barked, and Matt sighed.

“I need your advice,” he said, gesturing to the wolfdog puppies.

“While you were gone, I talked with wildlife experts, and I’m concerned about the pups.

I was hoping you’d get back in time to help me figure out the best way to give them a great future. ”

“What are you worried about?” Lynda asked.

“They’re not ordinary dogs,” Matt explained, sitting on a nearby stool while Star investigated his boots.

“Their high wolf content means they’ll never be suitable as typical pets.

I’ve contacted sanctuaries and specialized facilities that might be able to take them, but most are already at capacity. ”

Lynda considered the five energetic puppies. “What about keeping them here? They could be part of an educational program instead of being adopted. With the right environment, they could serve as ambassadors, teaching people about wolfdog hybrids and why they shouldn’t be bred as pets.”

Matt rolled a ball toward one of the pups. “That’s the direction I was leaning. But it would require specialized enclosures, ongoing care, and educational programming. We don’t have enough money to make it happen.”

Lynda shrugged. “They’re all part of what could be a reimagined service,” she suggested. “I’ve been thinking about the shelter’s future. There’s a huge need for a wildlife rehabilitation center in this region. With my skills, I could help fill that gap.”

Matt nodded. “Carol’s been saying the same thing for years. The nearest wildlife center is in Missoula, and they’re always at capacity.”

“That’s what I heard from the vets there,” Lynda said, her enthusiasm growing as she shared her ideas with Matt.

“With the right equipment and some dedicated space, we could handle everything from orphaned bear cubs to injured eagles. I have savings, and once the sale of my practice is finalized, I’ll have more than enough to fund the initial setup of a wildlife rehabilitation center. ”

“You’re thinking of a partnership with the shelter?” Matt asked.

Lynda nodded. “I’d work full-time, overseeing both the domestic animal care and the wildlife rehabilitation. I’ve already discussed it with the board as a possibility, but now that I’m staying here permanently, we can make concrete plans.”

As they walked toward the reception area, Lynda continued, “I also have some ideas about fundraising. The shelter’s always struggling for food, medicine, and fixing any building problems.”

“It’s been an ongoing issue for years,” Matt agreed. “The annual fundraiser helps, but it’s never quite enough.” He opened the door to the reception area. “Money’s tight everywhere. I’m not sure what we can do to encourage more people to support the shelter.

“What if we rebranded?” Lynda suggested. “We could call the shelter something like ‘Paws of Hope’. It’s a name that reflects what we do in Sapphire Bay. We give hope to animals that might otherwise be lost.”

Matt stopped walking. “That’s a great idea. A new name, a new focus on wildlife rehabilitation, and a fresh approach to fundraising. We could transform this place.”

Lynda nodded. “I’ve done some research on grants available for wildlife education and rehabilitation.

If we incorporated educational programs for local schools, we could qualify for additional funding.

And if we document the wildlife rehabilitation cases, we could create a social media presence that might attract donors from beyond Sapphire Bay. ”

“And the wolfdog puppies could be our first educational ambassadors,” Matt added with a smile. “We could build a proper outdoor enclosure with enrichment activities, teach visitors about wolf conservation and the problems with breeding wolfdogs as pets.”

Carol put down the brochures she’d been folding and smiled. “I heard what you said about ‘Paws of Hope’ and nearly fell out of my chair. That’s the kind of change we need. And keeping the puppies as educational ambassadors is brilliant!”

For the next twenty minutes, the three of them discussed possibilities—the empty storage building that could be converted for wildlife rehabilitation, potential grants, and the logistics of Lynda joining the shelter full-time.

They brainstormed ideas for a wolfdog habitat that would give the puppies the space they’d need as they matured, while allowing visitors to observe and learn.

“We need to present this to the board next week,” Carol said finally, her eyes bright with excitement. “They’ve been looking for ways to expand our services without increasing our budget. This could be the perfect solution.”

“I’ll prepare a proper proposal,” Lynda promised. “With projected costs, potential funding sources, everything they’ll need to make an informed decision.”

“And I’ll help with whatever you need me to do,” Matt added.

Carol looked at Lynda and Matt. “Well, I think this calls for a celebration. But since I have a mountain of paperwork to finish before closing, I’ll leave that to you two.” She gave Matt a meaningful look. “Didn’t you mention some Labrador puppies that you wanted Lynda to see at your clinic?”

“You’re not being very subtle,” Matt told her.

Carol grinned. “Life’s too short to be subtle. In my humble opinion, you’re perfect for each other. But right now, the Labrador puppies need your expertise.”

Matt sighed. “Carol’s right. I’d appreciate a second opinion. The puppies were abandoned near the highway about four weeks ago. One of them is a lot sicker than the others, and I don’t know why. But if you’re too tired from your flight, I understand.”

“I’m never too tired for puppies,” Lynda replied with a smile. “I just need my bag from the car.”

Outside in the parking lot, the late afternoon sun sent a golden glow over the mountains surrounding Sapphire Bay. As they walked to their vehicles, Matt hesitated beside Lynda’s car.

“I meant what I said inside,” he told her, his voice quiet but firm. “About missing you. About being glad you’re staying here.”

Lynda looked at the man who’d become important to her in such a short time. The man who’d stayed up all night to save orphaned puppies, who’d carved wooden animals with such care, and who’d waited patiently for her to find her own path back to Sapphire Bay.

“I’m glad too,” she told him. “This feels right, Matt. All of it—the shelter, the puppies, Sapphire Bay.” She took a deep breath, then added more softly, “And you.”

Matt’s expression softened, and he reached for her hand, his fingers warm and steady around hers. For a moment, they stood quietly together, the distant puppy yips making the moment even more special.

Then Matt stepped closer. His blue eyes never left hers as he raised his free hand to brush a strand of hair from her cheek. “Lynda,” he whispered, before leaning down to kiss her.

His lips were gentle yet certain, a promise of all that might come. When they finally drew apart, Lynda sighed. “I could become addicted to your kisses.”

Matt smiled. “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

And neither did Lynda.