How To Rescue A Family (Furever Yours Book 2)

by Teri Wilson

  She went on to describe her vision for the cook-off, from the barbecue contest to the games and raffles to her plans for a silent auction and live music. Between bites of food, Ryan took notes. Just as she’d told Belle, it was all very businesslike—a normal interview.

  Which was a relief, frankly.

  Then, just as they were wrapping things up, Ryan’s cell phone buzzed, vibrating across the Formica table. He glanced at it and frowned. “I’m sorry, I should probably take this. It’s my son’s school.”

  “Of course.” Amanda nodded.

  “Hello?” A line etched between his brows, and she knew she should get up and leave, but she couldn’t seem to make herself budge. “Yes, this is Dillon’s father.”

  His frown deepened.

  She definitely shouldn’t still be sitting there, watching him listen to what was obviously a difficult call.

  “I, um...” she whispered, sliding toward the edge of the vinyl seat.

  But then something wholly unexpected happened. He looked up, shook his head slightly and reached for her hand, covering it with his.

  Stay.

  He didn’t say it. He didn’t have to. She could see it in his eyes, could feel it in the desperate touch of his fingertips—a hand that was reaching for something. Reaching for help.

  She went still as stone. Unable to move, unable to breathe, staring at his hand on top of hers as she tried her best not to listen to his end of the conversation, catching only snippets—words like anxiety, grief and silence.

  When he ended the call, he sat quietly for a minute, staring down at his phone. Then his gaze slid slowly toward their hands and he blinked, snatching his away. “Sorry. I...”

  Heart pounding hard, Amanda buried her hands in her lap under the table. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay.”

  “Really, I’m sorry. Dillon didn’t want to go outside for recess today. He’s having some trouble at school, and I...” he shook his head “...I’m kind of at my wits’ end. I thought moving here would be good for him, but I’m beginning to wonder.”

  A lump formed in her throat. She swallowed around it and took a deep breath. “I’ve lived here my whole life. It’s a nice place. I’m sure he’ll come around. Maybe he just needs some time and a little help coming out of his shell.”

  Ryan lifted weary eyes to hers. “That might be the understatement of the century.”

  She blurted out the first thing that popped into her head. “Have you thought about bringing him by Furever Paws?”

  He shook his head again, with more force this time. “No. Our household is in enough turmoil as it is without adding a pet to the mix. I don’t even think I could handle a goldfish at this point.”

  She let out a laugh before she could stop it. “No pressure. You don’t have to take an animal home, but maybe hanging out with some of the dogs and cats will help him feel more at ease. You never know. Petting a dog has been scientifically proved to reduce stress and anxiety.”

  “You make a strong argument.” Ryan nodded slowly. “As well as a mean fried green tomato.”

  “Thanks.” She glanced down at his empty plate.

  “Maybe I’ll bring Dillon by the shelter. You said you’re usually there on Mondays?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, then. It’s a...” His voice drifted off and he seemed to catch himself before he said more.

  But the words floated between them all the same.

  It’s a date.

  Chapter Five

  This is a mistake.

  Ryan shifted his SUV into Park in the gravel lot of Furever Paws and glanced at Dillon’s reflection in the rearview mirror. His son sat perched on his booster seat with the same withdrawn expression he’d been wearing for the past few days.

  Ryan sighed. He hadn’t been naive enough to expect Dillon to break into a happy dance the minute they pulled into the driveway, but he’d hoped for at least a smile. Or some glimmer of excitement. Anything, really.

  No such luck.

  He’d been so sure Dillon was on the brink of a breakthrough after their barbecue dinner from the Grille. But then the school had called again with another troublesome report. Not only was Dillon still refusing to speak, but he’d also regularly started staying inside during recess, choosing to sit at his desk instead of joining his classmates outside on the playground.

  Ryan was at his breaking point, which was the only explanation for the way he’d behaved at the end of his interview with Amanda Sylvester. If he’d been thinking clearly—if he’d been acting like the professional he used to be—he never would have held her hand during the phone call. He definitely hadn’t done anything like that in his previous life. Ever.

  There was something about her, though...something beyond physical attraction. Yes, she was beautiful—so beautiful that he’d lain awake at night thinking about the sultry warmth in her eyes and the elegance of her movements. She had a way of making even the simplest tasks seem graceful, whether she was peeling an apple or dusting a pie with powdered sugar. And she had just enough of a Southern accent to make her words fall from her lips soft and smooth, like melted butter.

  But beyond those things, for reasons he couldn’t begin to understand, he felt like he could talk to her.

  That was a first. One of Maggie’s biggest complaints during their marriage had been his aloofness. She’d called him noncommunicative so many times he’d lost count, which made his current predicament with Dillon all the more ironic.

  He’s your son. You did this.

  He pulled the keys from the ignition and forced a smile. “Hey, buddy. We’re here. Are you ready to pet some dogs?”

  Dillon’s gaze found his in the reflection of the rearview mirror. The boy gave him a barely perceptible nod.

  “Great!” Ryan’s voice rang with false cheer. He wondered how much longer he could keep up the cheerleader act, how many more weeks or months he had in him.

  As long as it takes.

  Dillon sat completely still while Ryan unbuckled the booster seat and lifted him out of the car. Hand in hand, they walked toward the shelter building, which looked every bit as worse for wear as it had the day he’d come to interview the Whitaker sisters. Amanda’s barbecue fundraiser couldn’t come soon enough, apparently. Luckily, it was happening next week.

  As if his thoughts had somehow conjured her into being, Amanda waved at him from beyond the chain-link fence surrounding the building. “Hi, Ryan. Hey there, Dillon.”

  She was dressed in a ruffled gingham top paired with white jeans, and a cheery red leash stretched from her graceful hand to a tiny brown dog lying on his belly at her feet. Ryan waved back, and did his best to ignore the warmth that blossomed in his chest when he realized she’d remembered Dillon’s name.

  “I’ll meet you in the lobby.” She pointed to the building. “You’ll need to check in at the information desk, and then I’ll show you around as soon as I put Tucker here back in his kennel.”

  Ryan glanced at the dog at the end of the leash—Tucker, presumably. Amanda gave the leash a tug, and the pup didn’t budge. Probably because it looked exactly like the kind of animal that got toted around in a handbag instead of walking on its own four legs.

  He glanced back up at Amanda just in time to see her cheeks flare pink before she scooped the dog into her arms and carried him out of sight. Again, he felt a strange pull toward her—the same pull that had caused him to reach for her hand during their phone call the other day—and he wondered what on earth he was doing here. The last thing he needed in his life was a pet.

  But he was here now, and despite Ryan’s many reminders that they wouldn’t be going home with a new dog or a cat, Dillon was suddenly looking somewhat interested. His gaze trailed after Amanda, then he peered up at Ryan as the corner of his mouth tugged into a grin.

  Ryan gave his hand a squeeze. “C
ome on, bud. Let’s go.”

  The shelter lobby looked about the same as it had the last time he’d seen it. Water still dripped from the ceiling in a handful of places, and the room smelled like a wet paper bag. Not exactly a good sign. Ryan was somewhat surprised they hadn’t managed to even start on the badly needed repairs, but maybe Birdie and Bunny were waiting to see how much money the barbecue fundraiser pulled in. Still, they needed to get a jump on things. Surely most of the mess would be covered by their insurance policy.

  “Welcome to Furever Paws.” An elderly man sitting at the front desk smiled as they walked in. A tiny orange kitten sat nestled in his lap.

  Dillon sneaked a glance at the cat from behind Ryan’s leg.

  The shelter volunteer winked at Ryan, then craned his neck to catch Dillon’s attention. “Would you like to pet Lucille, son? She’s a real sweetheart.”

  “Go ahead. It’s okay. That’s why we’re here.” Ryan let go of Dillon’s hand and gave him an encouraging nudge between his tiny shoulder blades.

  By some miracle, it worked. Dillon took a few tentative steps forward until the kitten was within reach, and then he ran his fingertips gently over the animal’s tiny orange head.

  “I think she likes you,” Ryan said.

  A soft, rumbling purr came from the little kitten, and Dillon smiled a smile that Ryan hadn’t seen for weeks. Maybe even months.

  “You’re a genius,” Ryan whispered as Amanda slipped into the lobby and came to stand quietly beside him. “Thank you.”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “I’m hardly a genius. What kid doesn’t love baby animals?”

  She didn’t get it. How could she?

  “No, seriously.” Ryan swallowed. He was jaded enough not to let himself hope this was some kind of breakthrough, but he’d take a joyous moment when he could get it. This was one of them. “Thank you.”

  Amanda blinked up at him, and a flicker of understanding passed through her gaze—just enough of one to make him wonder if maybe she did get it, after all. “I’m happy to help.”

  A silence settled over them, so tender and sweet that Ryan had to look away before he did something crazy again, like hold her hand.

  Or possibly something even crazier, like kiss her.

  He cleared his throat. “I should probably go sign us in.”

  “Not necessary.” Amanda grinned at the man behind the desk. “Hans, Ryan and Dillon are with me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Hans winked at Dillon. “You have fun now, son. Miss Lucille will be right here with me if you decide to adopt her.”

  “We’re just here to look and spend some time with the animals,” Ryan said automatically, because that’s what he’d been telling himself ever since Amanda had suggested Dillon might like to visit the shelter.

  But seeing the sudden sag in Dillon’s tiny shoulders gave him pause. Maybe a cat wouldn’t be so bad. They mostly took care of themselves, didn’t they?

  “No pressure. I promise.” Amanda bent to look Dillon in the eyes. “Are you ready to go meet some of the other pets?”

  He nodded again, and then he slipped his hand into Amanda’s as if he’d known her his entire life.

  The warmth in Ryan’s chest deepened into a cavernous ache that felt all too much like attraction. Want. Need.

  He couldn’t have her. No way, no how. He’d come to Spring Forest to concentrate on fatherhood and nothing else. He had neither the time nor the energy for a relationship. Sharing a meal with Amanda Sylvester was mostly safe. Holding hands with her was borderline.

  But watching Amanda interact with his troubled son was definitely more than he could take.

  Why did he suddenly have the feeling that adopting a pet might be just the least of his worries?

  * * *

  “Before we head to the dog kennel, I thought you might like to see the farm animals.” Amanda led Dillon through the shelter building while Ryan trailed behind and kept a protective hand on his son’s back.

  The little boy hadn’t uttered a single word since they’d arrived. Come to think of it, she couldn’t remember if he’d said anything the other night when they’d come to pick up their barbecue dinners at the Grille, either. The poor kid was so shy, and something about his big warm eyes and the sweet dimple in his chin tugged at her heartstrings in a major way.

  Maybe because he looks exactly like his father.

  She sneaked a quick glance at Ryan as they exited the building and stepped into the dazzling sunshine. Those honey-colored eyes of his were nothing short of captivating. She forced herself to look away.

  This wasn’t a date. Absolutely not. She was simply being neighborly. As lovely as Ryan Carter’s eyes were, there was a weariness to them she hadn’t noticed until he’d thanked her for encouraging him to bring Dillon to the shelter. Whatever troubles Dillon was having at school were clearly just the tip of the iceberg.

  She wondered what had happened back in Washington, DC. The Spring Forest rumor mill was rife with speculation—so much so that Amanda had broken down and googled Ryan. Apparently, he’d been a big-time editor at The Washington Post. She’d even stumbled upon a photograph of him at the White House, standing beside the president. But then her gaze had snagged on someone else in the picture—a beautiful woman with her arm linked through Ryan’s—and she’d slammed her laptop closed.

  “We’ve got pigs, sheep, goats and even a couple llamas.” Amanda pointed past Birdie and Bunny’s rambling Victorian farmhouse and the garden gate, toward the paddock.

  When Dillon rose up on tiptoes to catch a glimpse, Ryan scooped him up and swung him onto his shoulders. Adorable. Amanda’s heart gave a rebellious little flutter.

  She was about to launch into tour guide mode to distract herself from their precious father-and-son vibe when one of the llamas charged the fence and began to prance back and forth.

  Amanda slowed to a stop. “That’s weird. I’ve never seen Llama Bean behave that way before.”

  Ryan made a strange coughing noise and when she glanced at him, he grimaced. “I have.”

  “Seriously? When?”

  “When I came out to interview the Whitaker sisters.” His face turned a fascinating shade of red. “Birdie seems to think Llama Bean has a crush on me.”

  “That’s...interesting.” Laughter bubbled up Amanda’s throat. Not that she couldn’t relate the tiniest bit to Llama Bean all of a sudden. “And also hilarious.”

  “Tell me I’m not the only one and we’re just dealing with a boy-crazy llama.” Ryan shot her a hopeful glance.

  “Afraid not.” She laughed again, harder this time. “Only you.”

  Even Dillon looked like he was on the verge of letting out a giggle.

  Amanda shaded her eyes with her hand and peered up at him. “What do you think? Should we take pity on your dad and skip the paddock? I have a few dogs who are anxious to meet you.”

  He nodded, eyes shining bright, and Amanda could suddenly feel her pulse pounding in her throat.

  Don’t get attached.

  Of course she wouldn’t. She could barely manage the additional responsibility of new houseplants. She had no business taking on a single dad and his wounded son. Besides, she was pretty certain Ryan didn’t need her help. As she was all too aware, he was a fully grown man.

  “Off to the kennels, then.” Amanda waved at one very disappointed llama as they all headed back to the shelter building.

  One by one, they visited the dogs in the kennels. The pups greeted Dillon with a frenzy of yips and wagging tails. He seemed to take a shine to Charlie, a one-year-old yellow Lab pup. Amanda brought the dog out of his kennel so Dillon could pet him.

  “I think Charlie likes you almost as much as Llama Bean likes your dad.” Amanda stifled a grin as the Lab squirmed with excitement at Dillon’s feet.

  “I think you might be right.” Ryan laugh
ed.

  The big dog’s tail beat against the little boy’s shins and he took a backward step.

  “Labs are pretty boisterous at this age,” Amanda said.

  As if on cue, Charlie hopped to his feet and swiped Dillon’s face with a sloppy, wet lick of his big pink tongue. Dillon pulled a face.

  Ryan’s gaze slid toward Amanda. “I’m getting the feeling that he might be more of a cat person.”

  Amanda nodded. “Note taken. Hey Dillon, why don’t we pop over to the cat room? It’s right next door.”

  His dark curls bobbed as he nodded his head, and she melted a little bit. He really was the most darling child.

  Once Charlie was placed safely back inside his kennel, she led their trio toward the cat room. The dog kennel area had started to fill up with potential adopters, which was a great thing, obviously. But somehow Dillon seemed to get lost in the shuffle, because once Amanda and Ryan reached the door, he was no longer nestled between them as he’d been for the majority of the visit.

  “Dillon?” Ryan’s head swiveled back and forth, sweeping the area. The hint of alarm in his voice made Amanda’s stomach tumble.

  “He was right here a second ago. I’m sure he’s close by.” She reached for Ryan as naturally as if touching him was something she’d done a million times, resting her fingertips lightly on his forearm. A zing of electricity shot through her and she snatched her hand back. “Um...”

  Their eyes met and held, but then Ryan’s gaze drifted over her head. “There he is!”

  She spun around and sure enough, Dillon stood behind them, less than three feet away. He was facing one of the kennels, staring intently at the dog inside—Tucker.

  “Oh.” Amanda blinked.

  Well, this is an interesting development.

  Ryan crouched down beside Dillon and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Hey bud, you scared me. I was worried I’d lost you for a second. I thought you wanted to go see the cats.”

  The child shook his head and pointed at Tucker sitting quietly in the back corner of his kennel. As usual, he was the only dog in the building who refused to come forward and greet visitors.