by Megan Ryder
Coming home to her waiting for him had quickly become the highlight of his day. He hadn’t realized how lonely his life had become until she and Sadie had blown in and upended it all over the place, changing his life in the process. Now, instead of thinking of the upcoming series, he found himself rushing through breakfast and heading out to intercept Savannah before she left for her day.
He finished the microwave breakfast sandwich and eyed Sadie who sat in front of him, quivering in anticipation, as if she could read his mind. He’d heard of guys using dogs as bait for girls and scoffed at it. But in this case, she was his best angle in. He snapped his fingers and headed for the garage.
He pulled into Savannah’s driveway just as she was loading up for her day. He left Sadie in the car with the windows cracked and wordlessly grabbed a large bag of dog food and hoisted it into the back of the Suburban.
“What’s on the agenda today? Need a sidekick?”
She looked surprised to see him and she stood, hands planted on her hips. She wore her usual shorts that left a lot of tanned, firm skin exposed, and a shirt that said “You can’t buy love but you can rescue it” stretched tight across a mouthwatering set of breasts that he was dying to get his hands and mouth on. But it was too early in the day and he was determined to show her that he could be a partner for her, more than a client at least. She brushed her hair back and tied it into some sort of a twist and sighed, sounding as if the weight of the animal kingdom rested on her shoulders.
That was when he started to think impulse actions might not be the best course today.
“Dylan,” she started, then her voice hitched and she turned away, striding toward the house.
He took a few quick steps and stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Savannah, what’s going on?”
She turned and he saw the reddened and swollen eyes and he exploded. “What the hell? What happened? Is everything okay? Did your sister do something?”
She quickly grabbed his other arm, holding him in place. When he was calmer, she laid a hand on his cheek. “Dylan, I’m fine. Today is just a rough day and I’d prefer to be alone. I just need some space. I’ll come over in time to take Sadie out but, if I’m not there when you leave, put her in her crate. I’ll be there.”
He shook his head before she finished speaking, blood roaring his ears. “No, we don’t have a game today. I forgot to tell you last night.”
She heaved a heavy sigh and closed her eyes. “Thank God. Dylan, everything is fine. I just need some girl time.”
He narrowed his gaze, studying her closely. “Is this your way of freaking out the token male so he doesn’t ask any more questions and just leaves?”
Her lips tried to smile but failed and her eyes remained sad. “Of course. We have to have our mystery.”
He lifted hand and brushed her cheek with a thumb, gently caressing a tear away. “It fucking kills me that you’re sad and you won’t let me do anything about it.”
She clasped his hand in hers and leaned her head into his palm, gently placing a kiss in it. “Thank you for caring enough to want to be here but I’ve got this. I’m used to handling this on my own.”
“You shouldn’t have to.” He gathered her to him and pulled her close in a gentle hug. “Call me if you need me?”
She nodded against his chest, sniffling a little. He tightened his arms at the sound then deliberately released her, stepping back with a slow exhale. He nodded to her, a sharp, quick jerk of the head, and strode to his SUV. He paused in the driver’s doorway and looked past Savannah at the house to see her sister in the doorway, arms wrapped around herself, an inscrutable expression on her face. He gave her a short nod and a meaningful look at Savannah then closed the door.
He kept glancing back at Savannah the whole time until he couldn’t see her again, wondering what could have upset her so much and trying to figure out another reason to stop by.
After Dylan left, Savannah gathered up a few dog toys, leashes, and a couple of fleece blankets, each item precious and specific to Carl. Her eyes blurred with tears as she blindly stuffed each item into a bag. Carl was her quiet shadow, sensing her mood, and following her around the house soberly, no playing, no barking, just dogging her steps, touching her with his nose or body whenever he could.
Finally, she sat at the kitchen table with a pad of paper and pen to write the hardest letter she ever wrote, the same one she wrote for every dog she sent on its way on the route up north to a better life and or she adopted out locally. She bit the end of the pen, trying to hold back tears at the thought of letting go of the dog that had become closer to her than any other dog since she had begun her rescue. She thought about the dogs she could save, the ones who needed her for their own second chance but Carl’s heavy head on her foot added to the pressure behind her eyes and on her heart. She consoled herself with the thought of his new family, the young couple who had attended the last three adoption events and focused solely on Carl. They’d be a good family for him, giving him lots of love and attention.
An hour and a full box of tissues later, the letter was written, outlining his feeding schedule, habits, quirks, needs, and personality. She liked to think she captured the dog’s essence in the letter and helped make the transition easier for them with their families. She often received thank you notes in return and even periodic updates on the dogs she had placed. But somehow, she thought updates on Carl might just break her heart over and over.
She had broken the cardinal rule of rescue. Don’t get too attached. In order to save lives, she had to rehabilitate the dog then give them a new life, while she made room for a new dog. She knew better than most she couldn’t get too connected to anything. Her mother had made damn sure of that while they were growing up, moving them at a moment’s notice, bringing new “uncles” into the house. Most of these guys basically ignored her and Lucy and only a couple had shown undue interest in either one. Mom had moved them before anything had happened there, the only time her mother had roused herself to notice anything going on. Otherwise, she left Savannah to handle the minutiae of day to day living while she spent her time pleasing her new man or finding a new one. Once the girls turned eighteen, mom was gone, as if she had done her duty and gotten them to a legal age and she was done. Savannah barely knew where she was; only heard from her when she needed money but she knew Savannah had precious little of her own and Lucy had even less.
So, yeah, Savannah learned quick not to get attached. Yet here she was, attached to her dogs, when she knew they were supposed to go to a new home and she messed up with someone else.
Dylan.
Dylan was supposed to be a client, nothing more. A guy who kept a dog that she couldn’t save. A guy who needed her to train him and watch his dog occasionally. Only, he needed so much more and her goddamn savior complex couldn’t help itself and she had to rush in and try to save him from his life, give him a new one. Only, she got in too deep and he was planning on leaving at the end of the season. Whether he took a contract somewhere else or he stayed here, their connection would end. She’d have to let him go, just like she has to let her dogs go. And she feared that would rip out far more than a piece of her heart.
It would eviscerate her soul.
Her cell phone rang. It was time to let go.
Savannah wiped her eyes one last time and grabbed the leash. Lucy leaned against the front door jamb and watched her wordlessly, sipping a cup of coffee. She wore a bikini top and minuscule shorts and big sunglasses, probably to hide her hangover after working at the bar last night. Savannah avoided her gaze and busied herself gathering Carl’s stuff for his new home.
“What are you doing?” Lucy asked, as though she’d never seen Savannah follow this same routine before.
“Getting Carl ready for his new family.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Lucy stepped into the room, and grabbed the bag, holding it out of reach. Savannah straightened and glared at her sister.
“Now you want to help? Fine
, bring that to the car.”
“Not yet. What are you doing, Vannie? You care about him, more than you’ve cared about anyone else. And you’re going to just hand him over?”
Savannah let out a frustrated breath and planted her hands on her hips. “Look, Lucy, I don’t expect you to get this but it’s my job, what I do. I help them heal and then give them a new life with a new family. He can’t stay here. I have to make room for new dogs.”
“What difference would one dog make? Look at Carl? He’s miserable, almost back to when you first got him, cowering and hiding. Do you really think this is for the best for him or even for you?” Lucy squatted down next to the big, gray dog and stroked his head but the dog just laid there, head on his front paws, shut down. “I know your goal is to find them all homes. But maybe the best home for him is here. With you.”
Savannah was already shaking her head, eyes filling with tears. “I can’t, Lucy. If I keep Carl, I can’t save another dog. He’ll be fine with his new family. He’ll adjust.”
Lucy stood slowly wiping her hands on her legs. “Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself? Every rescuer has foster fails. It happens and often it’s for the best for the dog. You know this. Why are you so determined not to keep any one of them for yourself?”
“That’s not how it works.” The words burst out of her in a loud cry.
Lucy shook her head sadly. “Bullshit. You keep telling yourself that. It could work that way. Even your friend Bob has his own foster fails. You need to figure out why you won’t keep Carl. Because, honey, you’re killing him.”
Lucy shoved the bag of dog toys at her, turned, and stalked out the front door, letting the screen door slam against the frame, making Savannah jump. Carl didn’t even move, as if he didn’t hear it, lost in his own world of misery. Savannah collapsed on the couch and buried her face in her hands, tears flowing freely again. Why couldn’t Lucy see how difficult this was for her? Why did she have to make it harder?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dylan was unsettled all day, not the way to spend a relaxing off day. He couldn’t focus on baseball, the upcoming series, or even relaxing with Sadie. He took the pup for a run, enjoying the company more than he thought, but his thoughts turned more and more to Savannah and her problem. The only issue he could come up with was her rescue and maybe her paperwork had been denied. Damn. What do you do for someone who had that kind of news? Flowers? Chocolate? Savannah didn’t seem to be that kind of woman. She sure as hell wouldn’t accept his money; she’d made it clear that she needed a long-term sponsorship not a one-time donation to be a viable rescue.
Finally, around six at night, he was almost jumping out of his skin and decided he was going over there, no matter what she had said. He coaxed Sadie into the crate and grabbed his phone and keys. At that moment, his phone pinged with an incoming text. Seeing an unfamiliar number, he almost ignored it. Then he read it and his gut clenched.
“It’s Lucy, Savannah’s sister. Did you really want to help?”
He paused, finger poised over the mini-keyboard. “Yes”.
“Come over now. If you meant it.”
He almost ran for the garage and his SUV.
He made it to her house in under fifteen minutes, breaking all kinds of speed records, but he had no idea what the situation would be when he got there. He pulled in the driveway and saw Lucy sitting in a chaise lounge on the front lawn, sipping from a large glass. She wore a bikini top and white shorts, which some men found sexy and hot but he only wanted to get into the house and check on Savannah. He strode across the small lawn and stopped in front of her, hands on his hips.
“What’s going on?”
She studied him with a pensive look, as if unsure whether to trust him or not. The scent of tequila drifted up from her glass. “Are you drunk texting me?”
“Nope, this is my first.” She shoved a chair over to him. “Have a seat. Let’s talk before you go in.”
He glanced at the house and she made a negative noise. “Not yet. Sit. We need to talk first.”
He arched his eyebrow. “You think you could stop me before I got in there without spilling your drink?”
“You’d be surprised what I can do,” she muttered noncommittally.
He pulled out the chair and sat in it gingerly, hoping the frayed nylon would hold him. He leaned forward, arms clasped in front of him and studied her. “So, what do we have to discuss? My intentions? My medical history? My relationship status?”
She languidly waved her hand. “Vannie can take care of that. I want you to understand something.” She swung her legs around, took of her sunglasses, and faced him.
When she placed her drink down on the ground, he realized she was serious.
“Vannie is dedicated to her rescue. She collects dogs and people like some of us collect shoes or purses. Only she collects strays, those animals and people that others don’t want. The problem with that is there are so many who need help and only so many she can help. Tuesdays are the day she tours the shelters and picks dogs she can take in. But she’s limited to how many she can take by her space.”
He tried not to sound frustrated but he let out a loud exhale. “I know all of this. That’s how I met her.”
Lucy glared at him. “No, you don’t get it. She has to decide which dog lives or dies sometimes. And if she can’t take a dog, that means he might not get a chance to live.”
Realization dawned and he wanted to smack himself on the head. “Oh, damn. She had to go to the shelter today and she went alone. I offered to go with her.”
Lucy was already shaking her head. “No, it’s more than that. In order to save one dog, she has to make room.”
He closed his eyes, heart clenching, then opened. “She’s giving up Carl.”
Lucy nodded, her face reflecting his own sadness. “She doesn’t keep any of her rescues. She expects them all to leave eventually. Once they’re saved, she lets them go.”
“She lets them go before she gets too attached. Except, she got too attached this time.”
Lucy took a long swallow of her drink. “Exactly. She gave him up today.”
He surged to his feet, pain coursing through him at what she must be feeling. “My God. She did that all alone? Why?”
Lucy calmly met his furious gaze. “Because she doesn’t think anyone will help her, even though you offered. I offered. Everyone offers. She never asks for help. Here’s my question to you. Do you care about her? Do you care enough to be with her tonight and help her through this? The first night is always the worst.”
He eyed her. “What about you?”
Lucy quirked a grin. “I’m no one she wants around. But I’ll go hang with Sadie tonight. And I promise not to throw a party in your place.”
“Lindsey’s there but you can stay there tonight. Just no parties.” He held out his hand with the house key but she dangled keys from her hand.
“I snagged Savannah’s when I took her phone to get your number.” She got to her feet and stood very close to him. “Don’t hurt her, Dylan. You’re another one of her strays, just like me. And I think you could hurt her like Carl. Maybe worse.”
“I have no intention of hurting her.”
Lucy grabbed a sweater from the back of her chair and sauntered toward her car. “See that you don’t. I know people who would be happy to beat the shit out of you.”
“Good talk, Lucy. Thanks for the support,” he called after her. Yeah, with a pep talk like that, he would have never made it into the pros. Harsh.
After she drove away, he stood in the silence, listening to the crickets and night insects set up their evening chorus as the sun was slowly going down. The sun was low on the horizon, hitting his eyes just right and he shaded them with his hand, scanning the area, but the yard was empty, quiet. Too quiet.
Alarm flared and he bolted for the house, not sure what he expected to find.
Savannah sat on her bed, wrapped in her oversized night shirt that said, “In res
cuing animals, I lost my mind, but found my soul”. She wrapped herself in a Sherpa-lined, faux suede blanket she had bought for her dogs but ended up being her own comfort blanket. She often pulled it out on nights like this when rescue seemed to pull out her heart and stomp all over it. Even in the warmth of the Georgia September night, she felt chilled to the bone and weary with grief and exhaustion. She heard Lucy’s death trap of a car drive off and thanked God that she had decided not to play babysitter that night. She hated showing weakness and needed one night to mourn then she’d pull herself together and get on with life. But it was getting harder and harder to do. She had hoped a facility would provide a critical barrier between herself and the dogs, providing a buffer that would help her not bond so closely. She had gotten too close to Carl, held onto him too long. She knew better, should have let them go sooner, for both of their sakes. She only hoped they would be able to bond with their new families.
The screen door banged and she froze. Who the hell was in her house? Lucy had left, leaving her alone with her misery. Before she could scramble to her feet, a presence loomed in her doorway, filling the space, sucking all the available oxygen out of the room.
“Dylan. What are you doing here?” She cursed inwardly at the waver in her voice, hating the momentary weakness.
He took in everything at a glance, his too perceptive gaze lighting on her tear-swollen eyes, her red nose, the box of tissues on the nightstand and the overflowing basket next to the bed. She steeled herself for pity or, even worse, scorn, but didn’t have the courage to look at him. Previous lovers had never quite understood her passion for rescue, always felt like they were in competition for her attention and affection. Even self-professed dog-lovers didn’t always understand the pain and the reward. Slowly, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes, only to feel the mattress sag next to her and the heavy, warm weight of his arms envelop her, tugging her close to his strong body. One hand rested on the side of her head, gently easing her head to his shoulder. His cheek rested on the top of her head and he brushed her forehead with his lips.
