She went back out front, worried. None of the animals went to foster care without her signing off on it. So where was he?
“June, have you seen Moose?” She hoped he was just out for a walk.
“He’s been fostered.”
“Fostered? But no one said anything to me.” Her worry increased. Moose would take a gentle, patient hand, and even then he’d be a challenge. “Where did he go?”
June frowned. “I know you look after all the fosterings, but Dr. Swan said you wouldn’t mind this one. Chris Jackson took him home with him last night.”
Chris?
“He did what?”
“He said he wanted to help. I couldn’t believe it actually. He went back there, knelt in front of the crate and put out his hand and Moose came right to him. We sent him off with instructions and a bag of food.”
“I don’t understand why Lindsay thought I wouldn’t mind. Moose needs a special environment.” She hesitated to say more. The veterinarian had already gone above and beyond, and so had the staff. Ally was trying to find spots for all the pets. But Moose was special.
June merely shrugged. “She said something about you and Chris. By the way, I saw your picture together in the paper. Isn’t the bake sale today?”
“I’m going over there next.”
Only she knew she wasn’t. She was going to Chris’s. She had to make sure Moose was okay first. There was no way Chris had known what he was getting himself into.
“Good luck with it. And don’t worry about Brutus or Galahad. They’re good boys. I’ll bet you have them adopted in no time.”
Indeed, the fire seemed to suddenly make people conscious of the issue and prospective owners seemed to be coming out of the woodwork.
“I’ll be back later,” she promised and headed back to her car. It took two tries before the engine caught. She was going to have to give it a tune-up soon, change the oil and air filter and plugs. She needed to get at least another year out of it, but she doubted she’d get much more.
As she headed out towards the highway and Chris’s place, she sighed. She hated that this all came down to money, but all signs were pointing towards letting the shelter go. At some point she had to face facts. She couldn’t have both her independence and her project.
Chris’s truck was in the yard as she pulled up, and she heard the barking as she opened the car door.
She was barely three feet from the hood when Moose came barreling down the driveway. Where was the reclusive, timid dog she was used to? He panted and rubbed against her leg, his weight nearly sending her off-balance. “Hey, boy,” she murmured, rubbing her hand along his head and back. “Look at you.” She supposed he greeted her because she was familiar. He normally didn’t do well with strangers. This made it even odder that he’d be with Chris. Moose jumped up and she shifted her arm so that he had to put his feet back on the ground. “Down,” she commanded. “No jumping.”
Chris came around the corner, dressed in jeans and an old T-shirt that sported the faded words Firemen Like It Hot. His caramel-colored hair was ruffled from the wind and what appeared to be exertion from play. “Moose,” he called, and Ally had a secret satisfaction when the dog totally ignored him. That was more in character.
Chris came down the driveway, his easy stride making her mouth go dry. It wasn’t fair that he was still so good-looking. Wasn’t fair that he could still turn his blue eyes on her and she could feel herself melting into a puddle of goo. It was even worse since the fire. For three long years they’d avoided each other. She’d nearly convinced herself that the sparks between them hadn’t been that good. And then he’d touched her and she’d pretty much combusted right in his hands.
“Imagine my surprise when I stopped at the clinic today and discovered Moose’s crate empty,” she said coolly, her hand on Moose’s collar. The dog turned his head and licked at her hand. Traitor.
Chris seemed to ignore the slight bite in her tone. He came closer—too close—and squatted down to rub Moose’s head. “I was trying to think of a way I could help, and then I realized. This house is pretty empty, and why not take in one of the dogs?”
“When we foster animals out, I like to know where they’re going.”
He looked up now, his brows forming a dark line across his forehead. “Meaning I wouldn’t have met with your approval?”
She sighed. “Oh, Chris. Moose has special needs. I’d want to make sure that whoever has him realizes that and is prepared for it.”
Chris laughed, giving Moose a pat and standing up. “Special needs? Don’t listen to her, Moose,” he instructed the dog. He looked at Ally. “That sort of thing could really hurt his feelings.”
He was exasperating. Was he making fun of her now?
“I’m serious. We’re pretty sure he was abused in his last home. He’s timid and doesn’t respond to commands, and when he’s in his crate he cowers. We let him outside and we have the opposite problem—he runs like crazy. We’ve worked with him a lot, but he’s a pretty big boy to spring on someone who isn’t expecting his issues.”
Chris looked down at her, his eyes softening. “You just want to make sure he’s okay.”
She let out a breath, relieved. “Yes.”