Season of Mercy
The Sled Dog Series, Book 4
Melissa Storm
© 2018, Partridge & Pear Press
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All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher.
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only; it may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or the author has used them fictitiously.
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Editor: Megan Harris
Proofreaders: Jasmine Bryner
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Partridge & Pear Press
PO Box 72
Brighton, MI 48116
To Angi
Who loved this story first.
Contents
Free Gift
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Afterword
Acknowledgments
Also by Melissa Storm
About the Author
FREE GIFT
Thank you for picking up your copy of Season of Mercy. I so hope you love it! As a thank you, I’d like to offer you a free gift. That’s right, I’ve written a short story that’s available exclusively to my newsletter subscribers. You’ll receive the free story by email as soon as you sign up at www.MelStorm.com/Gift. I hope you’ll enjoy both books. Happy reading!
Melissa S.
Sofia Stepanov’s journey toward happily ever after started the way so many do—with a beautiful, tortured pair of eyes staring straight into her soul.
She gulped before taking a closer look. These eyes didn’t belong to a charming prince, but rather a mottled gray dog chained to a stake in somebody’s front yard.
Help me, those striking amber orbs begged, but Sofia rolled past the stop sign and continued toward her destination. It’s not that she was heartless, though sometimes her friends teased that stodgy Sofia kept her heart locked up tight in a tiny box hidden deep within her chest.
She wanted to help the poor, neglected mutt, but what could she do? She was already late for work. She didn’t have a lick of experience owning a pet, and stealing was just a touch against the law.
Regardless, Sofia thought about that poor, scraggly creature the whole day, ultimately making a deal with herself. If I drive past there tonight and he’s still out there, then I’ll break him free.
And, sure enough, the dog she’d taken to calling “Wolfie” in her mind remained chained in place when she drove back through the dilapidated Mountain View neighborhood more than eight hours later.
She’d “borrowed” a leash from the mall’s pet store on her way home from work, reasoning that she didn’t have to pay if it was only meant to be a loan. Besides, she was doing the Lord’s work, protecting his creatures and all that.
Yeah, it definitely would have been far worse to do nothing. The universe wanted her to free this poor sap of a dog, and so she would.
She drove by the yard a few times just to make sure that no one was home, then parked down the block and began her rescue mission.
Wolfie let out a low whine as she approached. He kept his head and body on the ground, but slowly, hopefully, began to thump his tail in the dirt beneath him.
No bared teeth—a good sign if ever there was one.
Sofia had never kept a pet growing up, then hadn’t wanted the added responsibility once she’d finally struck out on her own. Even so, she’d always had a way with animals, especially the downtrodden ones. They seemed to somehow sense a kindred spirit in her which, she had to admit, was accurate.
Nobody had ever chained Sofia to a stake, but they’d done plenty of awful things to her growing up. Gossip, rumors, pranks, all the usual mean girl fodder had all been directed squarely at Sofia.
In seventh grade, she’d gone through an adolescent revolution and finally found out exactly who she was meant to be, which unfortunately also meant finding herself as the official Bartlett High outcast. Previously a blonde, pink-cheeked clone of her mother, Sofia had dyed her hair black and never looked back. She’d begun avoiding the sun as if she really were a vampire, like one of the less imaginative rumors about her had claimed.
And now here she was, creeping around at night, getting ready to steal somebody’s dog.
Not steal—rescue.
She had to remind herself of that over and over again until she was sure she believed it. Sofia was the good guy here. Had always been.
Reaching into her bag, she wrapped her fingers around the food court hotdog she’d picked up for just this purpose.
Wolfie’s whining intensified when he saw the snack.
“You want this, boy? Yeah?” Sofia tiptoed up to the dog and handed him the hotdog while she switched the chain for the leash.
Quick, quick. There. Atta boy.
Checking that the clasp was secure, she removed a second hotdog from her bag and flashed it before the dog. “We have to hurry, okay? Just follow me, and I’ll give you another one of these. Got it?”
Wolfie barked, his tail swinging at a frenzied pace.
“Shhhh,” Sofia warned, slowly letting herself back out through the gate with Wolfie in tow. “Let’s go.”
If anyone saw the dognapping in action, they did nothing to stop it. It was almost too easy. Sofia kept waiting for an angry, gun-waving homeowner or the whir of sirens, but nothing happened. It felt like mere seconds. One moment, she was just passing by, and the next she’d somehow become a dog owner.
Did easy mean right? Well, she guessed time would tell on that one.
So now what?
Once safely back at home, Sofia coaxed Wolfie into her apartment and offered him a bowl of water. It had been a warm day, making Sofia squirm in her black A-line dress. Wolfie must have been downright miserable out in the sun all day with not a drop of water in sight.
Sure enough, he drank the water in less time than it took Sofia to fill the dish. After refilling it a few times, she grabbed her largest pot from the cabinet under the sink and filled that to the brim with water as well.
Wolfie didn’t want to stop. He drank and drank, making Sofia wonder where all that fluid went in such a scrawny dog.
In answer to this question, Wolfie wheezed, coughed, then vomited a clear puddle at her feet.
Apparently that made him feel better, because he began to run around the apartment in fast, tight loops—jumping onto the couch and off, onto the table and off, moving so fast he was little more than a gray blur.
Sofia’s head spun. “Wolfie, calm down!” she cried, and surprisingly, he did listen.
Almost at once, the dog dived beneath the table and cowered in fear.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” she mumbled, crouching down and offering the dog her hand.
Wolfie began to shake violently but didn’t resist when Sofia gently lifted her hand to scratch between his ears.
“They really treated you badly, didn’t they?” she asked, motioning for the dog to come out from his makeshift cave. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now. C’mon, it’s okay.”
Slowly, Wolfie came toward her, his posture still stooped, a line of urine trailing behind him.
One thing was for certain: she had been sent to save this dog and she would not be turning him into the shelter where they’d just stick him back in a cage and he’d be passed over for cuter and less frightened puppies.
“There, there. It’s okay,” she whispered as she ran her fingers through Wolfie’s thick coat. Little tufts of fur came out in her hand, but Wolfie seemed to like the physical touch, so she kept talking to him, stroking him, promising him she would take care of him from here on out.
When he started to relax, she grabbed the scissors out of her junk drawer and worked on the mats clinging to his belly and legs. Wolfie shifted and whined, but ultimately let her help him. Already they’d reached some understanding. Already they were becoming a team.
“We need to get you to a vet,” she said, studying the angry red mark on the dog’s back knee. Was this a sign of abuse? And if it was, would she call in an anonymous tip about Wolfie’s former owner?
She didn’t want to do anything to risk losing the dog she’d promised to care for, but at the same time, people like this deserved to be punished to the fullest extent of the law. And then some.
After a few brief moments spent weighing her options, Sofia placed a call to her former employee, Liz Benjamin—who now went by Elizabeth Jane.
Long story.
“Hey, girl. What’s up?” her friend asked, the sound of wind whipping past the speaker.
“Hate to bother you like this, it’s just…” Sofia had to choose her words carefully, because whatever story she told Liz now was the one she’d be stuck with going forward. “It’s just, I found this dog on my way home from work, and I think he needs to see a vet.”
Liz sounded distracted, but not surprised. “You found a dog?”
She gulped before speaking the first of what would surely be many lies about how Wolfie came to be hers. “Yes, he was walking by the side of the highway. I didn’t want him to get hit, so I let him into my car. And now I’m kind of fond of the old guy.”
“Yeah, I know how that goes,” Elizabeth Jane said with a laugh, then after a slight pause, “Umm, most vets are closed by now, but there’s an emergency animal hospital in Midtown if you want to swing by there.”
“Great, thanks.” Sofia could tell her friend’s hurried responses that she needed to go. Sofia needed to go herself if she was going to get Wolfie into the vet sometime that night. For all she knew he had ring worm, or rabies, or something even worse. She glanced at the dog, who tilted his head in response.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Liz asked after a brief shuffling on the other end of the line.
Sofia smiled at Wolfie and ran her fingers through his fur once more. “No, I’m sure you have lots to do. I’ve got this.”
Elizabeth Jane sounded relieved. “Well, call me if you need anything. Maybe stop by the ranch with him over the weekend, and I can give you some of Samson’s old stuff to get you started as an official dog owner.”
“Awesome. Gotta go.” Sofia hung up, then pushed herself back to her feet.
Wolfie let her clip him back onto the leash without the bribe of a hotdog, and they were off.
What had Liz been doing that she needed to keep a secret? Sofia wondered briefly before opening the window and letting the cooling wind rush through the car.
Sofia and Wolfie arrived at the Benson Animal Hospital less than half an hour later. The large waiting room sat mostly empty, except for an elderly woman holding a cat carrier in her lap and a man about Sofia’s age sitting beside his dog on the other side of the room.
Spotting the other dog, Wolfie let out an excited whine and began to strain against the leash, dragging Sofia with him to the far end of the waiting room.
“Is it okay if we say hello?” she asked the man, hoping that Wolfie wouldn’t attack the other dog he so desperately wanted to meet.
“Of course. This is Scout. I’m Hunter. Hunter Burke.” The man stood and gestured to the German Shepherd at his side.
Sofia had heard that having a dog helped you meet people, but she was surprised by how soon Wolfie was making new friends for the both of them—especially when those friends were as handsome as the man standing before her. “I’m Sofia, and this is Wolfie,” she said with what she hoped was a confident smile.
The dogs sniffed each other, both with tails wagging.
Hunter held out his hand to Sofia, a crooked grin hidden beneath his beard. Sofia had always been a sucker for a man with a bit of scruff. If he had tattoos, too, she’d be a goner.
“New dog owner?” he asked with a knowing tilt of his head. His sandy hair fell onto his forehead, and he reached up to push it back.
Sofia watched the muscles in his arms tighten, then relax again. She even spied a patch of dark ink peeking out from beneath his shirt sleeve. That made it official: Hunter Burke was the perfect specimen of masculinity.
“Is it that obvious?” She suddenly felt very awkward beneath his studious gaze. Had he seen how the dress Sofia had designed hugged all her curves in just the right places? Could he tell that the candy apple red lipstick she wore was the exactly perfect shade to go with her complexion? “About being new to dogs, I mean?”
“Yes, but it’s okay. I’m sure you have your hands full with a wolf hybrid. And is he a rescue, too?”
“Wait, wolf hybrid? What makes you say that?”
“His eyes, for one. Also his size. That isn’t your standard sled dog. Didn’t the rescue organization tell you that?”
“Umm, not really. They mostly just seemed happy to have a home for him.” Sofia back-pedaled quickly. She’d already mixed up her story, and she’d hardly had Wolfie for an hour now. This did not bode well for her ability to keep his theft a secret.
“Don’t worry. He’s probably not a hybrid. That being illegal and all. Besides. I’d hate to have to put a pretty girl like you in jail,” Hunter said with a gentle smile that made Sofia’s breath hitch.
Had he really just called her pretty? Usually the feminist in her hated being called out on her looks, but from Hunter… Oh, mama.
She chanced a smile back at him. Normally, she wasn’t so shy around… well, anyone. But something about Hunter and the situation left her a bit speechless.
“Don’t worry. I’m only kidding.” Hunter reached into his back pocket and pulled out a badge with a laugh. “I always forget that people don’t like it when guys like me make jokes like that.”
A cop? Sofia swallowed the lump forming in her throat. Well, that wasn’t good. “Oh,” she said.
“Why the frown?” he asked with a chuckle. “I promise I only arrest people who deserve it.”
“Yeah.” She forced a laugh. Had God set Hunter Burke in her path to remind her that she had obtained Wolfie by illegal means? Was this a test? Should she come clean?
She looked to Wolfie, who was enthusiastically sniffing Scout’s butt. No, she couldn’t betray her new dog so soon—or ever. She’d made a promise to protect him and couldn’t let a guilty conscience get in her way. So, she’d stolen a dog. It wasn’t technically legal, but it was the right thing to do. She could have ver
y well saved his life.
Yeah, taking Wolfie had been right. Keeping him was the right call, too.
Hunter spoke up again. “Okay, you seem a bit intimidated. Don’t be.”
She shifted her eyes from the dogs back to the handsome man standing beside here.
“We’re all fighting something, right? Like you. What do you do?” he asked.
“I work at the mall. Clothing store, but I also design and sell my own fashions on Etsy.” Why was she telling him this? She didn’t need to justify herself or her job. She just needed to get Wolfie checked out by the vet and then to get them both back home.
“So, you’re fighting against bad fashion decisions and nakedness.” His eyes flashed with mischief, as if it was his goal to make her squirm.
And squirm she did.
“I… Um…” She felt heat rush to her cheeks and tried to hide her embarrassment.
“Too forward?” He laughed and shook his head. “Yeah, probably. But look, the vet could call either of us back any minute and, well, I don’t want to go without at least getting your number or giving you mine.”
“Umm, okay.” She handed him her phone, wishing he’d been anything other than a cop. Otherwise, she’d be jumping for joy at Hunter’s flirtations. “I’ll take yours,” she said, knowing that she would never, ever call him.
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