by Alison Hart
The beam bounced off a small shaggy dog, which trembled from head to tail. “Oh, sweet heaven,” Jas repeated Miss Hahn’s words. The family hadn’t just abandoned a horse.
Jas stepped into the shadows. A chain large enough to hold a Great Dane was attached to the dog’s neck. An empty bowl sat beside it. Another chain and empty bowl lay in the dirt as if a second dog had once been tied there. The whole place stunk.
Jas crouched. Maybe if she made herself smaller, the dog wouldn’t be so frightened. “Hello,” she said softly. The dog glanced away, submissive.
“Will you let me take the chain off your neck? Would you like some water?” She duck-walked closer and was encouraged when the dog didn’t crawl away. “I bet you’d like to come with me to Second Chance Farm. There you’d have plenty of food and friends. The farm helped me when I was all alone.” She reached out her hand, but the dog slunk away. Sitting back on her heels, Jas patiently waited. As she gave it time to get used to her, her mind drifted.
When she first thought that Hugh had killed Whirlwind, she’d been lost in anger. It had taken her weeks to trust anyone at her new foster home. She had finally learned to trust Chase, a volunteer who was about her age. He’d helped her figure out the insurance scam that Hugh had pulled, when he’d switched the look-alike with Aladdin. Fortunately, they’d dug up enough evidence so at least the lawyers were charging Hugh with one count of fraud. Now, if she could only find—
A wet tongue licked Jas’s knuckles. Startled, she glanced down. The little dog had crawled beside her. It pressed itself against her knee as if desperate for her touch.
Gently she stroked its back, the fur tangled and gritty. Its tail thumped. “So you’ve decided to trust me?” Her fingers found the chain, which had rubbed its neck raw. “I can’t believe someone did this to you.” She undid the chain and let it drop. Only she did believe it. Hugh had shown her how cruel people could be to animals.
Moving slowly, Jas wrapped her arms around the dog and held its quivering body to her chest. When she stood and walked into the sunlight, it hid its muzzle in the crook of her arm.
She carried it around the garage to the makeshift paddock. Miss Hahn was smearing something on the horse’s sores. Officer Lacey was feeding him a handful of hay. Jas was glad to see him chewing hungrily.
She’d learned that an animal suffering from malnutrition had to be gradually reintroduced to food. Starvation messed up the animal’s digestive system. Horses given too much feed too fast could colic, founder, or die. “How’s he doing?” she asked.
“He’s young,” Miss Hahn said. “So I think he’ll be okay. What’s that you’re holding?”
“A dog I found tied in the garage.” Jas wrinkled her nose. “It’s filthy, skinny, and scared.”
“Officer Lacey,” Miss Hahn said. “Do we need the bank’s permission to take an abandoned dog to Second Chance Farm?”
“What dog?” the officer asked, winking at Jas.
Miss Hahn smiled. “You’ve fifteen minutes to lockdown, Jas. Perhaps Officer Lacey can drop you back at the farm. Chase can help with the dog. He’ll know what to do.”
Jas rolled her eyes. Of course Chase will. “What about loading the horse in the trailer?”
“I called Rand. He’s coming over. I called Dr. Danvers as well. He’s coming to the farm this evening to check the colt.”
“Good, he can take a look at this stinky critter, too. And before you leave, will you make sure there’s not another dog?” Jas asked. “This one had a chain around its neck. There’s a second chain but no animal.”
“I will. Now scoot before your lockdown time runs out.”
Jas shifted the pile of bones and fur in her arms. The dog was about the size of a small beagle but weighed practically nothing. She followed Officer Lacey to his van. ANIMAL CONTROL was written on its side.
He opened the door and she slid in, holding the dog carefully. A Plexiglas partition separated the front from the back of the vehicle, which was sectioned into two cages. One side contained a box of dog treats, towels, leather gloves, a cat carrier, a Havahart trap, and a control pole with a noose at the end. Balding and pudgy, Officer Lacey was a genius at coaxing animals, not chasing them.
When they started up the drive, Jas heaved a sigh, glad to leave the creepy place behind. “Any suggestions on how to care for the dog?” Jas asked Officer Lacey. She didn’t want Chase to be the only know-it-all.
“Small amounts of dry food, small sips of water. A flea bath. Later it will have to be wormed and vaccinated. For now, keep it separate from the other dogs until Dr. Danvers has checked it out.”
“Thanks.” When they reached the farm, she gathered the dog in one arm and opened the door.
“May I name it?” Officer Lacey asked before she got out. “I never get to name the rescues and strays. I can’t get attached.”
“Sure. Then we can quit calling it ‘the dog.’” Jas tipped it sideways so she could see under its belly. “Looks like it’s a girl.”
“I’d like to name it Hope, then,” he said. “In hope that she’ll have a good life from now on.”
Jas smiled. “I like that name. Thanks again.”
As Jas climbed from the van, Chase came striding toward her, five dogs on his heels. He wore cutoffs, a T-shirt, an Orioles baseball cap, and an adorable grin. Jas tried to ignore the adorable grin.
Ever since Jas had arrived at the farm, she’d been attracted to Chase. She’d never had a boyfriend before. Horses were her sole focus. She and Chase were just good friends. And nothing more. That was the way she wanted to keep it.
Because if she was going to find Whirlwind and defeat Hugh, she couldn’t get distracted.
At least that’s what she told herself.
Three
“MISS HAHN JUST CALLED. YOU FOUND A DOG?” Chase asked. He was a year older than Jas, but he already knew that he wanted to be a veterinarian and loved the challenge of a new rescue.
“Her name’s Hope. Officer Lacey named her.”
Chase tipped back his cap and inspected the ball of fur in her arms. The dogs crowded around, sniffing and wagging their tails. “Does she have a head?”
Jas laughed. “It’s tucked underneath. The poor thing’s scared to death. Probably thinks she’ll be mauled by these five slobbering mutts.”
“We need to feed her a little dry food and water, then give her a flea bath,” Chase instructed as they walked side by side toward the house. “We can’t afford a flea infestation.”
“I know, Chase,” she said. “I’m not stupid.”
“Really?” He feigned shock.
Jas would have socked him, but she didn’t have a free hand.
Chase opened the door into the kitchen, shooing the other dogs away while Jas went inside. She set Hope by the array of food and water bowls. The pup stood hunched and trembling. “She’s got to be hungry,” Jas said. But when Chase placed a bowl of kibble on the floor, she only stared mournfully at it.
Fifteen minutes later, after coaxing Hope to eat a few bites, Jas carried her to the laundry room. Chase had gathered shampoo and towels and had filled the deep sink with a few inches of warm water. When Jas set Hope in the sink, the pup scrambled and clawed to get out.
“At least we know she’s got some fight left,” Jas said, trying to keep the dog in the tub.
Chase picked up the shampoo. “Hold on to her while I squirt some soap on her back.”
“Why do I have to hold her? I’m getting soaked.”
“Can’t you handle a five-pound dog?” He squirted a stream of soap, hitting her arm.
“Can’t you handle the soap? You’re getting it everywhere but on her.” Jas gritted her teeth as Hope struggled. “She didn’t move the whole ride here. Now she’s a tiny tornado.”
“Okay, you do the soap—since you are seriously messing up the holding part.” Setting down the bottle, Chase took Hope from her. “She’s probably never had a bath before. This will traumatize her for life.”
“I say we go back and tie up their so-called owners without any food or water,” Chase said.
“For once we totally agree.” Jas sprayed Hope with the hose. Dirt poured off as she rinsed, changing the dog’s fur from brown to white. “I wonder what breed she is?”
“Mutt.” Chase pulled the plug to let out the water. “Like all the dogs at the farm except for Old Sam.”
When Hugh had threatened to put down Grandfather’s aging German shepherd, Chase and Jas had “dognapped” him from High Meadows Farm.
Jas finished rinsing Hope, careful to keep water out of her eyes and ears. The wet fur clung to the little dog. She could see every rib.
“Dang, she’s ugly and skinny,” Chase said. “And she’s got little scabby things on her. Officer Lacey should have named her Rat.”
“Rat? That’s disgusting.” Jas dried the pup with a towel. “She’s shaking. I’ll sit with her in the sun on the front porch.”
“Are you on lockdown now?” Chase asked, just as he’d asked every day since she’d arrived. At first, Jas swore he couldn’t tell time. Then she decided he was simply impatient with her schedule.
“Yeah. I’ll be so glad when I get this stupid transmitter off my ankle. Only three more days until my court date. Mr. Petrie, the public defender, thinks the hearing will go in my favor.”
“Then you won’t be a foster kid anymore,” Chase said. “You’re still staying here, though, right?” He was washing the mud down the drain, not meeting Jas’s eyes, so she knew the answer was important to him.
“Of course. Miss Hahn’s looking for a mobile home for Grandfather and me to live in.”
“Good.” Chase hid his relief by glancing down at the transmitter around her leg. “I’ll be glad, too, when the judge lets you remove that thing. Then you can start doing some real work around here instead of sitting on your—”
“I do plenty.” Jas threw suds at him, which landed on his cap.
“Hey,” he protested. “Quit messing with the Orioles.”
Wrapping Hope in two towels, Jas lifted her from the sink. “Chase, can you stop joking for one sec?”
“One sec …”
“What if Hugh shows up for my hearing?”
“I’ll lock him in the men’s room.”
“I knew you wouldn’t take this seriously. Forget I asked.” Plucking a dry towel off a shelf, she hurried from the laundry room.
“Slow down.” Chase followed her. “Why are you so touchy? You just said the hearing should go in your favor.”
“I’m really worried.”
“About what?”
She bit her lip and draped the dry towel over her shoulder, shifting Hope in her arms. “What if Hugh gives the judge the security tape?”
Part of Jas’s probation was to never step foot on Hugh’s farm again. But Jas and Chase had sneaked into the stable at High Meadows trying to find proof that Shadow was Aladdin. The farm’s surveillance camera had caught them on tape. Chase knew about the tape, but he didn’t know about Hugh’s threats.
I have a great shot of you and your boyfriend sneaking into the barn. How do you think he’ll like the juvenile detention center?
“He said he’d use it against me if I didn’t keep my mouth shut about Whirlwind,” Jas told him. “And he threatened you, too.”
For a second, Chase looked startled. “Me?” Then he shrugged. “No big deal. I’ll tell my dad about it tonight.” Chase’s dad was an investigator for the Stanford Police Department.
“You’re not worried?”
“There’s nothing we can do about it. If Hugh shows up waving the tape and hollering ‘arrest those trespassers,’ we’ll deal with it.”
Jas wished she could be as nonchalant as Chase.
“Thanks for worrying about me.” He grinned, and his blue eyes met hers. Despite her chilled T-shirt and the wet dog, Jas’s insides flared.
“Oh, go fix up that quarantine stall for Hope.” Turning abruptly, she hurried across the living room. She didn’t want him to see her flushed cheeks.
“Aye, aye, Commandant Schuler.” Seconds later, the screen door slammed, and she heard him whistle for the dogs.
Jas carried Hope outside and sat on the front porch swing. She hated to admit it, but Chase was right. There was nothing she could do about the dreaded tape. It wasn’t her biggest problem, anyway. Finding Whirlwind was.
Unwrapping the wet towel from around the dog, she replaced it with the dry one. Hope snuggled deep into the folds. The sun was hot and comforting, and Jas settled back against the wood slats. Soon her T-shirt dried, and the pup in her lap stopped shaking. When she peeked under the towel, Hope was asleep.
She gave the swing a push with her foot. Hope. Officer Lacey had no idea how perfect that name was. Not just for the dog, but for her, too. Jas was going to need a barn full of hope if she was going to find Whirlwind.
The mare had been gone for two months. She knew the exact day that Hugh must have gotten rid of her—June 1, the day after Phil, the manager of High Meadows Farm, and Grandfather had left for Maryland to pick up cattle. That same day, she’d caught the bus early to get to school for a makeup test. That left Hugh at the farm, alone, to set up his devious plan.
Had he shipped Whirlwind overseas or sold her to a buyer in California? Jas had no idea. But with Whirlwind gone, he’d somehow substituted the look-alike mare in her place. A mare he must have starved so she would eat the deadly yew he’d tossed in the paddock after Grandfather returned so that he, not Hugh, could be blamed for the “accidental” poisoning.
The mare had died in pain, her guts twisting. Then all Hugh had to do was claim she was Whirlwind and collect the insurance money.
Jas kicked the swing higher. The man was a monster who had intentionally killed two horses. And if he showed up for her court hearing, that was what Jas would tell the judge. If Chase wasn’t worried about the surveillance tape, she wouldn’t be, either.
Tightening her arms around the warm bundle, Jas held Hope close. At her first court hearing, she’d been too afraid of Hugh to talk.
This time she wouldn’t keep her mouth shut.
Four
“THE COLT HAS A BODY-CONDITION SCORE OF one-point-five,” Dr. Danvers said that evening. He was inspecting the new rescue horse, which had been placed in a quarantine stall set apart from the main barn. Rescue farms had to be super-careful when bringing in new animals because of the many contagious diseases and infections.
Miss Hahn glanced at the clipboard in her hand. “I assigned him a one-point-five, too.”
“A one-point-five is considered bad, right?” Jas asked. She held the colt’s halter as Dr. Danvers prepared a syringe to draw blood.
“A one is the worst. It means extremely poor,” Miss Hahn explained. “An ideal score for a horse is five.”
“Say cheese,” Chase said from the doorway. He was shooting photos to document the horse’s condition. They’d be added to the colt’s growing folder.
Jas patted the little horse’s face. He didn’t move when Dr. Danvers stuck him with the needle. She ran her gaze over every inch of his body. His fly-chewed sores were almost worse than his protruding bones.
Dr. Danvers capped the syringe. Pulling a pen from the pocket of his coveralls, he asked, “Got a name yet?”
“Don’t let Chase name him,” Jas said. “He wanted to call the new dog Rat.”
“How about Wonder?” Dr. Danvers suggested. “As in, it’s a Wonder he’s still alive.”
“I like the name,” Jas agreed.
“Then Wonder it is.” Miss Hahn wrote the name on the folder tab.
“Can you look at Rat—I mean, Hope—next?” Chase asked Dr. Da
nvers. The dog was quarantined in the stall next door. “She might have mange.”
“And Shadow’s due for a rabies vaccination,” Jas added. “And Ruffles needs his teeth checked.”
Miss Hahn laughed as Dr. Danvers nodded patiently. The veterinarian smiled at her, and her sun-brown cheeks turned red.
Chase gave Jas a knowing look. The two were convinced that Miss Hahn and Dr. Danvers were secretly in love with each other. Chase lowered his head. “Did you notice they’re wearing matching coveralls?” he whispered out of the side of his mouth, and Jas choked on a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Miss Hahn asked, shooting a suspicious frown their way.
“Chase, being stupid as always,” Jas said quickly.
They left Wonder’s stall. The colt would be in quarantine for seven days. During that time, a volunteer would be assigned to lavish extra TLC on him. Neglected animals needed mental as well as physical rehabilitation.
One more thing Jas had learned living at the farm.
Dr. Danvers changed gloves before going into Hope’s stall. Chase was kneeling next to the dog. She was curled in a ball on a worn, clean blanket. She took one look at the vet and began to tremble.
Gently, Dr. Danvers prodded and probed her eyes, mouth, and body. “No mange. Just flea bites. Sure is skinny.”
“We gave her a flea bath this afternoon,” Chase announced, as if they’d performed major surgery.
Jas pressed her fingers against her lips to hold back another laugh. Still, a snort escaped and he gave her an “I’ll get you later” look.
“Meet you at Shadow’s stall,” Jas told Dr. Danvers before heading from the barn. Although “barn” was an exaggeration, since it was a converted shed. The outside walls were unpainted boards, and the roof was rusted tin. Miss Hahn dreamily talked about a modern, quarantine barn with washable walls and floors, but it required money to make dreams a reality.
Outside the door were a spigot, a bucket, a trash can, a laundry basket, and strong soap. Jas washed her hands carefully, scrubbing under her fingernails. Then she pulled the protective shoe covers off her sneakers and tossed them in the basket.
