by Traci Hall
“The roof needs to be done by the end of next month.” Sarah heard her tone and decided to just be quiet for a few minutes until she could regain her positive attitude. Some days it was harder than others.
They got the three dogs situated in individual crates and the kittens shared a large one kept on top of the table. They plugged in fans to keep the area somewhat cool, then sat back to enjoy coffee her mom had brought in a thermos.
“We need an event to really kick-start sales of the treats,” her mom said, legs crossed as she held a cup of coffee. “How about a car wash?”
Sarah loved her mother. Though sometimes she made her feel a little crazy, her mom’s unwavering support gave her the strength to do just about anything.
“I was thinking about a classier sort of fundraiser…” She sipped her coffee, black and strong, from a paper cup. “Save the roof car wash? Who would I invite?”
“The whole city could get behind you. Guys like girls in bikinis.”
“Well, I have a call into Courtney, she runs everything. I was hoping she’d have a good idea for something else. Like a dinner. A car wash?” Sarah flicked her cup. Car washes were not her thing.
“Keep it simple. You could have it at Pet Rescue. The parking lot is big enough.” Her mom sat back in the plastic chair and stretched her legs out. Her pink sneakers with blue and purple laces matched the pink glasses perched on her nose.
Why not? She picked the first lame excuse she came up with. “I’d hate to disrupt the animals.”
“They’d be inside the warehouse. What better way to get community support than to show them what you do? Where you are? Even better, Sarah, why you do what you do. Having people see the animals is good.”
“When you put it like that, it’s pretty smart, actually,” Sarah admitted. She thought about how to open up the back area. “Let people know they can buy their pet supplies from me, too.”
“I wish I could do more, Sarah. Financially.”
Her mom had already helped her through college so that Sarah didn’t have any school loans. Having a kid shouldn’t be a life-long expense. Or was it? Sarah had made a point of getting the business loan on her own. “Mom, you’re pretty awesome. I think it’s really great that other people see it too. Go to dinner with this guy, get dessert. Walk on the beach.”
Her mom smiled in thought. “We’ll see if he asks again.”
“You’re going to make him work for it?” Sarah laughed.
“I don’t want to be easy!”
Sarah put her empty cup on the closest dog crate, thinking of Franco and his kisses. The way she felt around him. Alive. “It might be fun.”
“We’ll see.”
The first browsers passed by, pausing to check out the kittens, and Sarah got to work matching pets with people.
Hours later, she was down to two kittens out of the six she’d brought and the gray and black mutt with the friendly eyes was gone too. A nice family with three little boys had picked him right away.
“Two old guys left,” Sarah said, bending down to unlatch their crates so they could get out and stretch a bit. She walked them on their leashes around the grassy area to the side of her tent, then came back, keeping out the all brown one with the sweet disposition. The other dog sometimes got cranky, so she put him inside his crate beneath the table.
“Oh, honey, that looks just like our MoJo.”
Sarah turned at the sound of a woman’s sad voice. She and her husband, probably in their mid-forties, walked hand in hand to the tent opening, where the husband refused to go further. The woman kept on toward the part Pit Bull mix as if she recognized a kindred spirit in the dog.
She dropped to her knees and took the dog’s head gently between her hands. “Richard, this dog has the same markings, too. I can’t believe it. He’s for adoption?” The woman looked at Sarah, begging her to say yes.
“Of course,” Sarah said, swallowing over the lump of emotion in her throat. “You can take him right home. Well, there’s some paperwork you have to fill out.”
Richard said in a voice heavy with uncertainty, “Now, Kathy, you know we said that we wouldn’t go through that again.”
“How can you deny this dog a home, Richard? Look?” She got up and tugged at her husband until he came inside. “They could have been from the same litter.”
Sarah felt their pain, mixed with hope. “What happened to MoJo?” she asked.
Richard coughed into his fist, his eyes damp. “Hit by a car. Died in our arms. Come on, Kathy. We agreed. It was too hard to lose him.”
Kathy shook her head. “You said last week you were missing a dog in our lives.” The dog woofed softly as she stepped back, thrusting his head beneath her hand. She blinked quickly, then put her husband’s hand on the dog’s soft head. “He needs us. He needs a home, and we have one.”
“This is not MoJo,” Richard said, his voice softening as his fingers scratched the dog’s ears. His brown tail thumped the pavement, his body wiggling with repressed excitement though he didn’t move from his spot.
Sarah turned and wiped her eyes, noticing that her mom was studying the ground pretty intently.
“Of course not. But still. Please, Richard?”
The dog chuffed, inching closer to the silently debating couple.
After a few moments, Richard got to one knee so that he could look the dog in the eye. “Want to come home with us?”
The dog wagged his tail so hard his entire body shook, tongue to the side.
“All right, boy,” he said. Richard turned to Sarah and said gruffly, “We’ll need a collar and a leash.”
“No problem. He’s been fixed, and has all of his shots. He’s very healthy. About seven, I think. I found him abandoned in an overgrown lot by the grocery store.”
Kathy clutched her husband’s arm as she helped him to his feet. “Thank you, Richard. You won’t be sorry. You can take this one running, too.”
Within twenty minutes, the dog was led from the Farmer’s Market with his forever family. Richard wore the biggest smile as he thanked her.
“Oh, Sarah, honey. How can you do this? I thought I was going to cry.”
“That’s what makes it all worthwhile. Finding homes for the unwanted.” She patted the crate with the last older dog and looked at the sleeping kittens. “We have another hour, Mom. If these guys don’t go this week, they’ll go next week. I don’t get that many hits from the website. But I have a few ideas I want to try.”
“I have always admired your perseverance. You knew what you wanted from the time you were little.”
“Is that right?” a male voice asked. “Why am I not surprised?”
Franco’s husky tones washed over Sarah and made it difficult to catch her breath. She looked at him, and at Bella, who held a piece of roasted corn in one hand and her dad’s fingers in the other.
“Franco! Bella. What are you guys doing here?”
“We like to walk to the market on the Sundays I don’t work. I didn’t realize that this was your booth. I try to steer clear of puppies when I’m off. What do you have?” Franco walked inside the tent and looked at the kittens, and the lone dog. “This is all that’s left?”
“Yes.” Her mother’s curiosity rubbed like sandpaper. “Mom, this is Franco de Silva, and his daughter, Bella. My mother, Jennifer Murphy.”
Franco held out his hand for her mom’s and when Jennifer gave it, he brought the knuckles to his lips. “Bom dia!”
Charming. “That only works so well because of your accent,” Sarah said, determined to put him at arm’s length. She didn’t know what to do with the feelings he roused in her. He wasn’t a guy she could grab a beer with on the beach. He didn’t inspire casual anything—including sex.
“Good morning, then,” he said, smiling at straight at Sarah. He wore pleated plaid shorts, a white t-shirt and black slides on his feet. He’d invaded her dreams the last few nights—she needed the days to be Franco-free so she could concentrate on her business. “Do you like my accent
?”
The deep rumble of his voice was like an aphrodisiac.
“I can see why you wore the green dress,” her mom said in a theatrical whisper.
He smelled like expensive aftershave and sunshine, not that she was noticing. Sarah put one hand up to her mother and the other toward Franco. “I don’t always understand what you say,” she told him before telling her mother, “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
Chuckling, Franco peered down at the dog Sarah brought out of the crate. “Long in the tooth, this one?”
“Yes. But some people prefer a mature dog to a puppy. As you know, they’re a lot of work. Where is Paisley?”
“The dog is the size of a hamster and doesn’t do well walking.” Franco shrugged and tugged at Bella’s hair. “I usually end up carrying this one part way. I only have two arms.”
“Understandable.” She wished he didn’t look so good, or sound so enticing. He tempted her. Made her think beyond the work day. “What are you guys doing later?” She imagined another swim in the ocean.
“I’m going to visit a new breeder on the list.”
“You check them out yourself?” Sarah nodded. “That’s good. Without telling them who you are?”
“What?” He patted his chest and held one hand out in a ‘who, me?’ gesture. “I’m just an interested customer.”
“Smart,” her mom interjected. “If they knew you owned a designer puppy store they might charge more and change the set-up. You know my Sarah closed down the breeder that used to operate out of your shop?”
“I did know that,” Franco said. “It caused a bit of tension, but we’re over that now.”
“Yeah. The best of friends.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “Where are they located?”
“Alligator Alley.”
“A two and a half hour drive...”Sarah said, doing the math.
“Not the way I drive,” he said with assurance.
Her mother laughed.
Bella smacked her lips, slick with butter. “Daddy drives like NASCAR.”
“And you wear your seatbelt?” Sarah asked. She could just see him zooming down the highway and a giant alligator crossing the road or something.
Franco and her mother both looked at her.
“What?” Sarah asked. “It’s a logical question.”
“I’m a very good driver,” Franco told her, his nose a smidgeon out of joint.
“I’ll add it to the list of things you excel at,” Sarah said, not backing down because he was offended. Dads shouldn’t be racing their daughters around in sports cars unless there were seat belts involved. Maybe not even then.
Her mother took off her glasses and listed her head slightly to the right. “Such as?”
Embarrassed, Sarah clarified. “Cooking. He used to cook for famous people.”
“Anybody I know?” her mom asked, switching her attention to Franco.
“Mom! Listen, I’d like to get these last animals adopted today, so if you don’t mind, Franco,” she said, hinting for him to leave.
Instead, he guided his daughter toward the chair Sarah had vacated and spread his arms wide. “I would love to help,” he said. “I can take the old man here for a walk, and see if we get any takers.”
The dog barked and wagged his tail as Franco attached the leash. “Franco, you don’t have to do this. He’s an older dog, and it’s all right if he goes back to the shelter with me.”
“I can do it. Do you think I can’t find someone to adopt him?”
The man looked so good he could sell ice cream to Eskimos but that wasn’t the point. Or was her pride in the way of just saying thank you?
“It has to be the right match,” she cautioned. She followed him out of the tent and watched as he was immediately surrounded by ladies who admired the man holding the dog. “I can’t believe it!”
“My daddy can find the dog a place to live.” Bella, adorable in a plaid sundress and flip flops, finished the roasted corn and slid off the chair to put the foil and cob in the trash can under the table that held the brochures and the last two kittens. “Where are the good treats?”
“They’ll be here next week.” Sarah pulled her gaze away from the women surrounding Franco and walked to where the kittens slept. They blinked sleepy eyes and meowed as she opened the door to the crate. “Do you want to hold one, Bella?”
“Can I, please?”
“Sit back down.” Sarah gestured toward the chair.
Her mother got up, helping Bella sit all the way back before Sarah handed her a kitten. “Gently, now,” her mom said.
“I will be very very careful.” Bella held her hands, palms up, and cradled the sleepy baby. “She’s sooo cute!”
Her mom smiled. “Not as cute as you are, Miss Bella de Silva. You are in over your head, Sarah.”
“I want one,” the little girl said.
Ignoring her mother’s comment, Sarah talked to Bella instead. “Your daddy said no already, and that’s okay. I need people to hold the animals at the shelter all the time. You can help when you want to, all right?”
Bella grinned at Sarah before returning her attention to the sleeping kitten. “You are so nice, Sarah.”
Sarah laughed, holding the other kitten close and walking back to the tent opening. Franco was in serious conversation with an older man, who reached down to pat the dog’s head. “You were right, Bella. I think your dad found our dog a home.”
Was there anything he couldn’t do?
She was beginning to wonder.
Chapter Twelve
Getting the paperwork and the check, Franco watched the old dog and the old man walk off together and felt a buzz of satisfaction. “I think they’ll be happy together,” he told Sarah.
She eyed him with barely concealed amusement. “I was admittedly worried when you were talking to the women. Nobody who spends that much time in a salon is going to want a dog that farts.”
Bella giggled and Jennifer Murphy admonished her daughter. “Sarah, really.” She looked to Franco as if to say, what can you do?
He liked Sarah’s mother, and really enjoyed seeing Sarah on a different level. As a daughter, instead of the one in charge, saving everybody all the time.
“So, Jennifer, tell us something about Sarah as a child. You were saying when we first got here that she always knew what she wanted to do.”
“It’s true.”
Sarah groaned and started stacking the brochures. “Mom, no boring stories, okay?”
Franco wouldn’t be bored by anything concerning Sarah. He’d even willingly listen to dance recital music, or watch family home videos. He waited expectantly.
“Nothing that comes from the heart is boring!” Jennifer gathered things together as she talked, efficient like Sarah. “When Sarah was ten, she found a dog by the side of the road. A collie mix.” She shrugged. “Anyway, Sarah brought this dog home, and begged us to let her make posters and maybe even keep her. It was obvious she’d just had puppies, and the poor thing was a mess. Matted hair.”
“Mom.” Sarah gave her mother a pointed look, gesturing to Bella.
Jennifer nodded and Franco assumed that in mother-daughter language they’d just communicated to keep things child appropriate.
“Sarah’s dad didn’t really like animals so much so we took her to the pound. Sarah walked up and down the strip of road until she found the owners of the collie. It seems the dog had broken out of her pen days before. By the time we went to the pound,” Jennifer trailed off but didn’t finish her sentence.
Franco got it. They were too late to save the collie.
“Sarah runs a rescue despite the costs of upkeep for the pets for that reason. In fact, sad story aside, she’s planning a fundraiser.”
Sarah dropped her head and muttered something under her breath and Franco fought to hide his smile. “When?” Franco asked.
“We aren’t sure yet, but we can let you know if you’d like to help.”
Franco prepared to offer his check
book, but Jennifer had something else in mind.
“Since you’re a cook and all, why don’t you man the grill? Hot dogs, hamburgers. I’m sure you can handle it.” Jennifer smiled expectantly.
“Mom,” Sarah said. “Franco is a chef, not a line cook at a burger joint. Franco, I’m sorry. Mom gets these ideas that she needs to help me out, and that’s all there is.” Sarah folded the table and set it next to the crates. Everything compact and easy to fit in the back of her truck. He appreciated her self-sufficiency.
“I never suggested that,” her mother said, looking from Sarah to him. “I’m sure you’re a whiz. She needs a new roof for the warehouse.”
“Mom—”
“I would be happy to do it,” Franco said. “Anything to help. Sarah, you showed me the roof already, remember?” Franco liked the idea of being part of the community, which is something that Sarah had already created for herself.
“Yes, but you don’t have to flip burgers.”
“I want to. I want Bella to learn the value of volunteering for worthy causes growing up, like I did. When I was twelve, I spent a summer picking fruit, separating the bruised pieces for jams. My grandmother insisted that every migrant worker was fed for the noon day meal, and at the end of each day, they could take a bag of fruit for their families.”
“That’s lovely. Where did you grow up?” Jennifer asked.
Franco saw that behind her pink glasses, she had blue eyes instead of Sarah’s green.
“My family owned property along the Amazon, but then I moved to Bahia where I had a home. After my wife died,” he barely paused and saw that Bella hadn’t even flinched, which was progress, “we came here. It is quieter, tamer than our ancient city but just as beautiful.”
“I’ve never been out of the country,” Jennifer said. “Well, the Bahamas don’t count since they’re right across the way.” She made a vague hand motion toward the ocean.
“No urge to travel and see the world?” He’d wanted to see, taste and experience everything. Having Bella had changed his priorities.
“I never thought about it,” Jennifer said. “But why not?”
“Mom, you are full of surprises today.” Sarah lifted her keys and shook them. “We should probably get going. It feels very strange to have found all of the animal’s homes. Bella did great with the last kitten. The family saw how happy Bella looked playing with it that they really wanted it for their own.”
