Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
I poked my head into her office only to discover a large border collie mix sitting on the floor next to her desk.
“Who’s this?” I asked, stooping to offer pets. He was friendly enough, although in dire need of a bath and grooming.
“You want to name him?” Luna gave a weary chuckle. “Stray. The Youngs found him wandering the road near their property. Brought him in, but he doesn’t fit any of the lost pet alerts for the area.”
“Not surprising.” That far out in the country, the dog was more likely to have been abandoned than to have wandered away from home.
“Yeah. I’ve been making the usual calls. All the shelters are full up.”
“Also not surprising.” I let the dog lick my palm. Judging by his size and chill temperament, along with a quick peek at his teeth, he was likely at least three or four years old, making him less readily adoptable than puppies. The area shelters were always running at max capacity, making intake challenging. “Ask the Youngs to foster?”
“Tried.” Luna rubbed her temples. “They’ve got two dogs already, one of whom doesn’t share her humans well.”
“Ah.” I ran through a mental checklist of area dog lovers who might be willing to foster or adopt.
“And before you ask, Mitch and I are headed away for the weekend with the kids.” Luna’s sorrowful expression matched the dog’s. “Don’t suppose you could take him for a few nights while I try to chase down a more permanent foster?”
“Me?” I pursed my mouth. We’d had this conversation before, and I’d always managed to wriggle out of volunteering.
“It’s a slow—”
Holding up a hand, I gave her a playful glare. “No jinxes.”
“Okay. You’re less busy than sometimes.” Luna was undeterred. “What else are you doing with your weekend?”
Avoiding Carson. But I couldn’t exactly confess that. “Not much.”
“Please.” She did a better pout than either of her kids. “He hasn’t had a single accident, so I’m betting he’s housebroken. He’d keep you company.”
“I’ve told you before. My hours aren’t compatible with pets.”
“So you say.” Luna gave an airy wave. “And I’m not asking you to make a lifetime commitment.”
My brain flashed back to the Giffords’ fifty years together. Was I so commitment-shy that I couldn’t give up two days? Also, my house had been far too quiet without Carson’s visits.
“One weekend.” I kept my voice firm, warding off her delighted cheer. “I’ll make some calls too. Perhaps one of the rescues has space.”
“Or maybe you’ll fall in love.” Luna beamed. She’d have me set with a pack of dogs in no time if I gave her an inch. “That would be ideal.”
“Luna.” I let out a long groan as my mind raced. Fall in love. What if I already had?
“I’m teasing.” She left her office chair to offer me a quick hug. “I know you’re not the happily-ever-after type, even with a dog.”
“One weekend.” I made a loud, frustrated noise that startled the dog.
Given how often I’d said the same thing, she was more than justified in her conclusion that I wasn’t after some domestic ideal. I had no idea why her factual statement rankled me so much. Letting myself change my dreams and plans would be ill-advised, yet that question continued to linger. What if I already had?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Carson
I had more or less made my peace with not driving. Getting rides into town or relying on Jude when we wanted to hang out wasn’t the worst thing in the world. However, needing Colt to bring me to my long-awaited neurology appointment had me about as pleasant company as a wet cat. I hated that he’d had to take time away from his day to help me. Hated more that there was so much unsaid between us, making the tension in his truck pea-soup thick.
“You nervous?” Colt asked as we neared Durango.
“About the doctor?”
Duh, Carson. Of course he meant the doctor. He didn’t know how I’d spent the last few days missing Jude, wishing he would text, not getting up the courage to contact him myself.
Colt shot me a considering look. “Or anything else you want to talk about.”
“No point in being nervous.” I made the broad statement for me as much as to ward off Colt’s concern.
I’d always been cool under pressure. Level-headed. Getting worked up about either Jude or the appointment was pointless, yet my palms sweat and my feet itched in my boots.
“That’s a good attitude to have.” Colt slowed for an RV that was plodding along, cursing softly under his breath.
“Thanks for skipping work.” I tried for a grateful tone. Colt should be off doing important sheriff business, not ferrying me to a medical appointment and fighting mid-week tourist drivers.
“I’m happy to.” Colt’s voice sounded forced, the fake polite he’d trot out for elderly relatives. “Family first.”
“Yeah.” Feeling like one more obligation on Colt’s to-do list had me slumping in the seat, and missing Jude that much more because he never made me feel like a burden.