by Deb Kastner
Other than Chummy, the dogs had mostly ignored her.
“Oh, no,” Simon said, raising his free hand palm out. “You misunderstand me. I’m not pulling some sneaky stunt on you to try to get you to adopt a dog. It’s just that—well, maybe it would be easier to show you than to try to explain.”
“Zig! Zag! Come here, boys.”
Immediately after Simon called, two identical small white dogs dashed to Simon’s side, their full attention on him.
“Down,” Simon said, and both of the dogs instantly obeyed.
Miranda looked from one dog to the other and a lightbulb went off in her head. She understood exactly what Simon was getting at, why she wanted Harper and Hudson to see these particular dogs.
“Twins!” she exclaimed.
Simon laughed.
“Not exactly. They’re littermates. Someone dumped them off at the side of the highway, tied in a bag. A Good Samaritan happened to see the bag moving as she drove by and she turned her car around to investigate. Once she realized the bag contained puppies, she contacted the town vet, Aaron Grimes, and he called me.”
He helped an overexcited Harper pet one of the dogs, and taking Simon’s lead, Miranda helped Hudson scratch the ears of the other.
“Soft fur, see, Harper?” Simon said in the high-pitched tone of voice men tended to use with babies. “This is a doggie.”
“Gentle, gentle,” Miranda added when Hudson tried to grab a handful of the white dog’s fur.
“Zig and Zag are Westies—West Highland white terriers.”
“They’re very obedient.”
He grinned. “We’re working on it. Terriers tend to have a mind of their own, kind of like cats. They are one of the harder breeds to train.”
Zig licked Hudson’s fist and he giggled. Both dogs seemed to like the babies, and the twins were clearly taken with the dogs.
But she’d meant what she’d said earlier. No matter how cute Zig and Zag were, or how much the kids liked them—no dogs allowed. At the moment, suffering cuteness overload, she even had to give herself a stern mental reminder.
She cast her eyes up to make sure Simon understood her very emphatic message, but he was busy helping Harper interact with Zag.
When he finally looked up, their eyes met and locked. A slow smile spread across his lips and appreciation filled his gaze. For a moment, Miranda experienced something she hadn’t felt this strongly since, well, since high school—the reel of her stomach in time with a quickened pulse and a shortness of breath.
Either she was having an asthma attack, or else—
She was absolutely not going to go there.
Chapter Three
Back in the barn, the strain that had occurred between Simon and Miranda in the house—because he refused to analyze and recognize it as any more than that—appeared to have dissipated as their thoughts returned to Shadow and her puppies. She was still scratching around in her whelping box and the puppies hadn’t arrived yet. The twins, worn out from their excitement with the Westies, were both sound asleep on the quilt.
“I usually exercise the dogs by riding around my acreage with them,” Simon explained, gesturing to his sorrel quarter horse gelding Dash, who was set up in a nearby stall.
“Some of my rescues like to run more than others. I’ve got a few couch potatoes who don’t want to leave the house, but they all need fresh air and exercise. There’s a small lake on the northwest corner of my property that my Labs can’t get enough of. They’d stay in the water forever if I let them, and I could toss tennis balls all day and they wouldn’t tire of it. I also keep a few head of cattle for the herding dogs to practice on.
“But ever since my first run-in with Blanche, I’ve been avoiding the land to the south, for the most part. My dogs generally don’t go anywhere near the south fences, although from time to time they slip away from me. But I’ve been more aware of it. No sense stirring up trouble if I can help it. That’s why I was so surprised to see her today.”
“You don’t think she’ll really follow through with her threat to call the cops on you, do you? She sounded pretty serious about it.”
He shrugged. “She hasn’t yet, and she’s been making that same threat since the first time she confronted me about my dogs. But it wouldn’t surprise me if she did call this time. She was certainly in a tizzy today.”
“Yes, but what does she really have to complain about? Everything you do is on the up-and-up, and in my opinion, is a ministry to the animals. There’s nothing for an animal control officer to find.”
Simon’s gaze widened on her and he suddenly had a hard time swallowing around the emotions that had clogged in his throat.
Miranda thought he was doing something special—something she even qualified as worthy of the Lord to bless.
“I do it for the dogs,” he insisted, his voice gravelly. It hadn’t occurred to him until this moment to give his work to the Lord to bless.
He crouched in front of the whelping box to see how Shadow was faring.
“Exactly,” Miranda agreed pleasantly. “For the dogs. That’s what makes what you do so wonderful. Plus, I don’t know how Blanche can possibly go to the police about this. The woman was trespassing on your proper—”
She cut off her sentence in the middle of a word.
Simon grinned. She must have seen the roly-poly bundle of fur that had arrived when they were otherwise engaged.
“A puppy is here.”
Indeed, there was one tiny, squirming puppy being groomed by its attentive mother.
Simon picked up a warm towel from a stack that he had at the ready, heated by a nearby warming lamp.
Gently, he scooped the puppy into his hands.
“Here,” he said, handing the pup to Miranda.
“It’s white,” she exclaimed. “Is that normal?”
“All Australian cattle dogs are born white, but their true colors come on fairly quickly. Back when the breed was first started, Dalmatians were bred into the stock. Hence the white coat.”
He put his hands over hers and showed her what to do. Her skin was soft against the calluses of his, and suddenly it felt as if his fingers had thousands of tiny nerve endings crackling.
“Dry him off a bit. Give him a gentle rubdown to help his circulation and breathing. Then we’ll put him back in with mom.”
“Is he sick?” she asked in dismay.
“What? No,” he answered. “This one is healthy, as far as I can tell. We’re just giving him a little extra triage.”
“This one?” She smiled as her tiny puppy wriggled in her palm. “Does that mean there are more coming?”
“Four more, if the ultrasound was accurate. You can put that little guy back in with his mama now, if you want.”
Simon watched as Miranda gently returned the puppy to the warmth of the whelping box. For a woman who’d told him flat out that she wasn’t a nurturer, she certainly looked that way to him.
Not just with the puppy, but with the twins, as well, if he was being honest. Maybe he didn’t have so much to worry about, after all.
He turned his attention to Shadow, who had just delivered puppy number two, a girl.
He waited until Shadow had cleaned the pup off and then scooped her into a towel as he’d done with the first puppy and handed her to Miranda. Puppies three and four soon followed, and they repeated the process.
She was staring at him with an odd expression on her face that made his gut tighten.
“What?”
She shook her head. “I’m not—I didn’t expect—”
She shook her head and didn’t continue.
“One more to go,” he encouraged Shadow, running an affectionate hand down her back. “You’re doing great, Mama.”
Shadow looked spent, bu
t was it any wonder? Birthing was hard work. She flopped on her side where her puppies could reach her belly and lowered her head to the ground, panting heavily.
Simon waited in anticipation. Nothing happened.
Maybe there were only four puppies after all, but Simon’s gut instinct, along with his experience, told him that Shadow wasn’t finished, even if she wanted to be.
Frowning, he went from a crouch to his knees, pressing his palms against his thighs as he considered what to do.
“That’s not good,” he murmured under his breath.
“Is something wrong?” Miranda asked, concern lining her tone. She dropped to her knees beside Simon and placed her puppy back in the box, then laid a comforting hand on Simon’s shoulder. “What can I do to help?”
Their gazes met and held, hers serious.
“Tell me what to do. We have to be able to do something for Shadow.” His stomach twisted when he realized he’d made a terrible mistake asking Miranda to bring the twins and come out to watch the birth of the puppies. At the time, he’d been thinking about the excitement of new life, and he’d been anxious for the opportunity to show Miranda his ranch and the work he did here. But he could have introduced the twins to Zig and Zag at a more appropriate time.
Now, instead of joy, he was handing Miranda a cup full of sorrow, just after she’d lost her sister.
“I’m sorry,” he said through a tight throat. “This may not end well.”
“Is there anything we can do?” she asked for the third time, her voice calm and containing an inordinate amount of strength.
Shadow stood and turned around in a tight circle. Simon and Miranda looked on intently.
“Possibly,” Simon answered softly. “Look—the fifth pup is coming now.”
Simon suspected that, like him, Miranda was holding her breath as Shadow strained and panted.
The puppy was large—bigger than his sister. Usually it was the runt of the litter who ran the risk of not making it through the birth or the first few days, but this puppy was so large Shadow had difficulty bringing him into the world.
Simon didn’t wait for Shadow to break the sac and clean up the limp puppy. He had a warm towel at the ready.
“Is he okay?” Miranda’s anxious gaze was locked on the puppy.
Simon rubbed the pup’s belly, hoping for a welcome wiggle, but the puppy’s body sagged.
Lifeless.
Simon kept rubbing, clearing the pup’s nose and mouth and attempting to heighten his circulation.
“Come on, boy. You can do it,” he murmured.
He cradled the dog’s head in his palm and dipped him down and back up again in an attempt to get him to breathe.
Still nothing.
“What can I do?” Miranda asked, her voice surprisingly calm and steady, despite the tears in her eyes. She so desperately wanted to help, and Simon wished there was something she could do.
Simon shook his head and continued to rub the puppy, tentatively throwing out a silent prayer. He still felt new and clumsy talking to God.
Please don’t let this puppy die.
Losing animals was part and parcel of owning a ranch, especially because his ranch was unique. He took in rescues that he knew would never recover, and cared for them with all his might, giving them the best quality of life they could have.
And love. These animals needed so much love—as much as they gave.
Dog breeding and rescue was a series of heartache after heartache sometimes, but despite all the pain, the good outweighed the bad, and he couldn’t imagine himself doing anything else with his life. There were four healthy puppies to rejoice over.
But Miranda was still freshly grieving her sister. She didn’t need to see the hard side of his business.
Not now.
“Come on, boy,” he whispered desperately. “Breathe for me.”
He performed the same down and up motion but to no avail.
“Give him to me,” Miranda said, still amazingly composed as tears silently streamed down her cheeks.
Simon’s gaze widened on her but he did as she asked and handed the lifeless puppy over.
Miranda cupped the puppy in one palm and coaxed his jaw open with the other. Then, without hesitating, she put her mouth over the tiny dog’s snout and gently blew a breath into his lungs.
She hesitated a moment, rubbing two fingers firmly over the puppy’s chest. She blew a breath into his lungs, waited a moment and then blew again.
Nothing happened.
She looked up and her watery gaze met his.
“I’m not giving up,” she said as she performed the same dipping motion she’d seen Simon use.
“Miranda.” His voice was as dry and coarse as sandpaper as he laid a gentle hand on her arm. He didn’t want to lose the pup, either, but—
“I’m not giving up,” she repeated firmly.
He nodded.
She blew another breath into the pup’s lungs.
Then another.
Simon wasn’t positive, but he thought he saw—
Yes.
There it was again.
The puppy squirmed and made a little mewling noise.
“I think that is the most wonderful sound I’ve ever heard,” Miranda said with a relieved sigh.
“Me, too,” he whispered in amazement.
Only now did he see that she was shaking. Adrenaline and shock were probably overtaking her.
He took the puppy from her tender grasp and put him in the whelping box for his mother’s ministrations, and then turned back to Miranda and took her elbow.
“Sit down before you fall down,” he said gently.
She sank gratefully onto the quilt between the twins, both of whom were now awake and wide-eyed.
“Oh,” she exclaimed, pulling both children into her lap for an enthusiastic hug, as if reassuring herself that the twins were alive and all right.
“I love you,” she said, kissing Hudson’s chubby cheek, “and I love you.” She kissed Harper’s cheek, as well.
“How did you learn to do that?” he asked, still thinking of the magnificent way she’d stepped in and saved the pup.
“What?” she asked, shooting the twins a confused look. “Love the twins? That comes surprisingly natural to me.”
He chuckled. “That’s fairly self-evident even to the casual observer. I meant what you did with the puppy. Blowing breath into his lungs.”
“Oh. That,” she said, waving her answer away as if it was nothing special. “As soon as I discovered I was going to be Harper and Hudson’s guardian, I took an infant CPR course. I wanted to be prepared for anything.”
“Brilliant.” Simon wouldn’t have thought to do that. Maybe Miranda wasn’t as irresponsible as he’d originally thought she was.
“A puppy isn’t a baby, of course, but I knew I had to try.”
“Well, it worked. And I’ve never seen anything like it. I think, given that you saved him, that you should name the little guy.”
“Really?” Her eyes lit up like firecrackers and her voice once again contained childlike enthusiasm.
He wished he could embrace life the way she seemed to do.
“Okay, then. Let me see.” She tapped a finger on her chin. “He’s so roly-poly. How about...”
Her gaze met his and her smile coaxed his own mouth into a grin.
“Pudgy.”
Chapter Four
Miranda hadn’t been to church in ages—other than to photograph the occasional celebrity wedding. She’d been too busy taking pictures and traveling to take time out for Sunday worship—or at least that had been the excuse she used.
And then there had been—she swallowed hard—Mary’s funeral. She’d darkened the door of
the church for that.
Today she was feeling especially grateful. She was happy for Simon’s puppy, which, when he’d called her this morning at her request, he had reported now appeared no worse for the wear. The pup was evidently healthy and robust like his brothers and sisters.
But she was especially grateful for Hudson and Harper and the role she now played in their lives.
Even though they’d changed the vector of her life in a single second, she’d never considered them a burden. If anything, they’d offered her an escape from a life that had become burdensome. She might judge herself and come up wanting as a mother, but that didn’t make the twins any less of a blessing.
Today she felt the deep-seated need to return to her spiritual roots, to Wildhorn’s small community church, the one she’d been christened in as a baby and had grown up attending every Sunday morning.
When she’d first returned to Wildhorn she’d had no idea what she would find. But reconnecting to her past, to her brother and his family, to her mom and dad, had changed her somehow. Learning the many ins and outs of baby care, and even bumping heads with the handsome, if sometimes irksome, Simon West, she felt as if new life had come into her heart. For the first time in years she felt truly awake, and with that awareness came a reawakening of her heart to God.
She’d just finished bundling the twins in their coats, hats and mittens when Mason knocked on the door of her cabin.
“Ready to go, sis?” he asked, his typical enthusiasm pouring out of him. But she knew he was especially stoked that his little sister wanted to return to the fold.
The evening before, when Miranda had asked if she could accompany them to church, Mason and Charlotte had been overjoyed. Mason told her they’d been praying for her.
She still felt a deep sense of shame that she’d missed Hudson and Harper’s christening, but Mason and Charlotte didn’t hold it against her. And she knew Mary and John had forgiven her, as well, or else they never would have named Miranda guardian of the twins.
With Harper and Hudson safely strapped in to her sports car, Miranda followed Mason’s enormous SUV to church. Even with the largest vehicle on the market, Mason and Charlotte’s brood of four barely fit. And Charlotte was pregnant with number five. Talk about loading up a truck to the brim.
