The Inn At Rose Harbor Part 27

"Oh, sure." I had to wonder if things were moving more quickly than I wanted them to. After all, I'd just come to look. I hadn't made a decision, and yet I could feel myself leaning toward the idea. I wasn't an impulsive person by nature, and yet I'd made a number of major decisions in the last few months based on emotion. That wasn't like me. I suppose this sudden departure from my usual behavior could be part of the grieving process, but I couldn't say that for sure. I shifted, suddenly uncomfortable, and glanced toward the door, briefly wondering if anyone would notice if I simply left. My heart started to pound and my knees felt as if they wouldn't support me. What did I really know about dogs? Very little. I'd had enough change in my life and I certainly didn't need to add more.

Feeling unusually warm, I unb.u.t.toned my coat. I continued to waver, but just when I was about to leave, a volunteer approached me. He smiled and said, "Come this way."

"I ... I've had a change of heart," I said, stumbling over the sentence. "I mean I like animals but ..."

"Hmm ... I understand, but why don't you take a look at the dogs available for adoption, before you make up your mind."

"Ah ..." Still, I hesitated.

This young man wasn't taking no for an answer. "This way," he said, and ushered me into the back of the shelter. He held open the door for me, and I noticed the clipboard with my application was in his hand. "My name's Neal, by the way."

"h.e.l.lo Neal ... I'm Jo Marie. Do you know Grace Harding?" I asked, to cover my nervousness. "She's the one who recommended I adopt a pet."

Neal broke into a big grin. "Grace and I both volunteer on Sat.u.r.days. She got called into work this morning unfortunately. I see she's still doing her best even when she's not here to find good homes for the shelter animals." He led the way down a long hallway with cages on both sides. The dogs inside lay sprawled out, most of them napping. Water and food dishes were set off to one side of the enclosure.

"It's like they're in jail," I commented, instantly sympathizing with the canines.

"They're only in the cages for part of the day," Neal a.s.sured me. "Volunteers walk them regularly and see to it that they have food and water. You don't need to worry-every animal in this shelter is well loved and cared for until we can find them a permanent home. Unfortunately, we have an overabundance lately. With a slower economy, some families can no longer afford to keep their pets."

"Like I said, I'm not sure about this."

"Don't make a decision just yet, okay?"

"Okay," I murmured.

Slowly we progressed down the wide hallway. "What about a German shepherd?" I asked.

"We have a few."

"Could I see them?" I asked, thinking I was wasting both his time and mine.

"Of course. Shep and Tinny are on the left-hand side about three-quarters of the way down." He stepped up his pace.

Apparently the dogs were accustomed to people walking past because only a handful seemed to even notice me. A couple lifted their heads but then they put their chins back down on their paws and closed their eyes.

With one exception.

As soon as he saw me, a small dog of mixed breeding instantly leaped to his feet and raced to the front of the cage.

"Well, h.e.l.lo there," I said, crouching down so that I could get a better look at the black and white dog. "And who might you be?" He was a cute thing, but much smaller than what I was looking to adopt. If I did adopt.

"Oh my," Neal said.

Perplexed by the volunteer's reaction, I glanced up. "Is something wrong?"

"That's Rover."

"Rover?" Paul's dog had been named Rover, too.

"Not very original, is it? We sort of run through a lot of names here and it looked like he'd been roving for a good long while, so that's what we picked."

"Oh." My gaze went back to the scraggly looking pooch who stared back at me with dark brown eyes. His gaze was unwavering, as if he expected something from me in return. I had nothing to give him.

"Rover was abandoned and was half-starved when he was found. It's the first time I've seen him react to anyone. I think he must like you."

"Well, Rover, I'm sorry but I need a much bigger dog." Slowly I straightened. I started to walk away when Rover let loose with a pitched howl that startled both Neal and me.

I turned around. "Is he all right?"

"I don't know," Neal admitted. "I've never seen him do anything like that before. In fact, I've never seen him show interest in anyone the whole time he's been here."

"Has that been long?" As cute as he was, in a scruffy sort of way, I had to a.s.sume if Rover hadn't been adopted before now, then there must be a good reason.

"Well, longer than most dogs his size. Because of the shape he was in when we found him, it took us several weeks to get him to the point, health-wise, where he could be adopted, and ..." Neal hesitated.

"And?" I said, wanting him to supply the information.

"He seems to be a bit p.r.i.c.kly."

"How do you mean?"

Neal shrugged. "He takes a disliking to some people and a liking to others, but you're the first he's responded to like this." I guess I should have been flattered.

"Actually, every time any potential owner showed interest, Rover did something that caused them to choose another dog," Neal elaborated, "that is, until he saw you."

I shrugged it off. "He probably smells my lunch or something."

Neal didn't look as if he believed me, but he seemed willing to accept my explanation. We continued down the wide aisle and the further we got from Rover, the louder he howled.

I ignored him until we reached the pen that held the first of the two German shepherds. "What's his name?" I asked.

"This is Shep."

"h.e.l.lo, Shep," I said and squatted down.

Shep lifted his head and gave me a disinterested look, and then nestled his chin on his paw once more.

In the meantime, Rover was up on his hind legs, his paws against the lower bar, howling and making all kinds of a ruckus.

Neal stood with his clipboard pressed against his chest. "I've never seen Rover behave like this."

"I don't want a small dog," I emphasized. I was looking to adopt a watchdog that would give the likes of Spenser reason to pause. An eleven-pound mixed breed dog wasn't going to frighten anyone beyond the postman.

"This one is Tinny," Neal said, moving down one pen. "Like in Rin Tin Tin."

"Tinny," I repeated. Tinny was sprawled out, too, and couldn't have cared less that company had arrived to inspect him as a possible adoptee.

Rover continued to howl.

"Perhaps you should take Rover out for a walk," Neal suggested.

"I don't want Rover," I insisted.

Neal grinned and shook his head. "Apparently Rover wants you."

"Oh for the love of heaven, all right, I'll take Rover out for a walk." As far as I was concerned all this fuss was probably because Rover was housebroken and knew enough to let someone know he wanted outside.

Neal retrieved a leash and opened the pen door. I half expected Rover to race out of the cage and exercise his freedom. Instead he walked out with all the dignity of visiting royalty, and stopped directly in front of me. He sat on his haunches and looked up.

"Well, all right," I said, and took the leash from Neal's hands and connected one end to Rover's collar. Neal led the way to the door and that was where we started. I felt a bit ridiculous, walking this silly dog around the gra.s.sy area outside the shelter.

We had just crossed through the door when Rover turned his head and looked at me. Our eyes connected and it felt as if an electric shock jolted through me. Neal had joked about Rover choosing me, but I could see that this was no exaggeration. This dog had already claimed me as his owner. He was determined to go home with me.

I pulled my gaze away and returned to the shelter where Neal waited. "That was quick," he said.

"Tell me more about Rover," I asked.

"Well, like I said, he was half-starved and in poor shape physically when he was found." He flipped the pages and paused with a frown. "We believe he was an abused animal."

"Abused in what way?"

"It's difficult to tell, but the notes here suggest that he was physically and psychologically harmed."

"Which explains his reaction with other potential owners," I murmured softly, thinking out loud.

A dog that needed healing. I wondered if it was possible that Rover had recognized the pain in my own heart. Rover continued to hold my gaze, his look intent. I knew I should give this decision more thought-factor in the issues it might cause for the inn, especially if it turned out that he had a p.r.i.c.kly personality. Yet something inside me said it would be okay ... more than okay. Rover belonged with me at Rose Harbor Inn.

I squinted down at the dog and blinked back tears. "Did Paul send you?" I whispered.

Rover's gaze remained unwavering. It was because of Paul that I was living in Cedar Cove. He'd sent two wounded souls to be the first guests at the B&B and now he had thrust a dog in my path. Not just any dog, either, but one wounded in spirit and heart. The decision was made. I would bring Rover home with me.

Chapter 28.

Abby and her mother pulled into the parking lot at the Pancake Palace where Patty had suggested they meet for lunch. Already Abby's heart palpitated as she mentally prepared herself for seeing some of her old schoolmates. Friends she'd once considered sisters but had blatantly ignored since Angela's funeral. She wondered if they'd be as welcoming as Patty, or if they would be so bold as to bring up the accident. Did people still think she might have been drunk or reckless behind the wheel that night?

Her mother seemed unnaturally silent, too. She appeared to feel Abby's hesitation and doubts. Linda Kincaid placed her hand on top of Abby's. "You ready?" she asked softly.

Abby nodded, although dread built up like bile in the back of her throat. It shouldn't be this hard, and it wouldn't be if she hadn't shut everyone off so completely. Despite Patty's rea.s.surances, Abby's fears ran rampant. What would she say if someone brought up Angela or the accident? She decided she would just be honest and tell them the accident had changed the course of her life. Perhaps she'd need to defend herself against their accusations; if that happened, she wasn't sure what she'd do.

"It will be good to see your friends," her mother said, her voice unnaturally high, as if she was trying to rea.s.sure herself as well as Abby. "You had so many good friends in high school."

"Yes," Abby concurred, forcing herself to smile. "Everything went well yesterday when I ran into Patty at the pharmacy. It will now, too." She hoped.

Abby opened the car door and climbed outside. The blast of the damp and cold was instantaneous.

Her mother joined her, wrapping her arm around her elbow. Together the two walked into the Pancake Palace. Right away the crusty old waitress that Abby remembered from her youth crossed their path in her pink uniform and white ap.r.o.n, moving from table to table wielding a gla.s.s coffeepot.

"Is that Goldie?" her mother asked. "My goodness, I would have thought she'd have retired by now."

Apparently Goldie's hearing was just fine because she turned to glance in their direction. She squinted as though she didn't immediately recognize Abby or Linda. The older woman shifted her weight and pressed her hand against her hip before walking toward them. "I remember you ... now don't tell me your name," she instructed, wagging her index finger at Abby.

Since her picture and the scene of the accident had been plastered across the local newspaper for what had seemed like weeks on end, Abby had no doubt Goldie would remember her, despite the years.

"Kincaid, right?"

"Right," Abby said, grinning despite her nervousness.

"You with Patty's group?" She didn't give them an opportunity to answer. "She reserved the party room in the back. There's a whole gang of girls back there, making more racket than they did as teenagers." She winked at Abby. "Good to see you, Lambcakes."

"Lambcakes?" Abby repeated softly as a warm sensation filled her. She led the way to the rear of the restaurant where the party room was situated. Lambcakes was the pet name Goldie had dubbed her as a teenager. The waitress had remembered.

The party room was behind two gla.s.s doors with square wood panels. It was relatively small, with just enough s.p.a.ce for one long table that seated twelve to fifteen. Abby could hear the happy chatter even before she reached the area.

The conversation died the instant Abby and her mother walked into the room. For an instant Abby was sure she was about to relive her worst nightmare. But the lull lasted no longer than a couple of heartbeats before she was instantly surrounded by friends she'd known nearly her entire childhood. And from the corner of her eye, she could see Patty's mother embracing Linda warmly.

"Abby, Abby." Marie, one of her closest childhood friends quickly hugged her. "I've missed you so much."

"You look fabulous."

"You haven't changed a bit since high school."

"How long are you in town for?"

"We've missed you at the reunions."

"Oh, it's just so good to see you."

Questions and comments seemed to come at Abby from every direction as her friends surrounded her. Abby tried to answer but before she was able to respond, another question or comment was thrust at her.

"Girls, girls." Patty broke into the fray, raising her hands above her head in order to attract their attention. "For the love of heaven give Abby room to breathe."

Her friends started to spread out, granting Abby and her mother the opportunity to find their seats.

"Let's all sit down," Patty instructed next.

"Patty always was a take-charge sort of person," Suzie reminded Abby, as she gave her a squeeze around her waist.

"Bossy, you mean," Marie added and then laughed. "But we wouldn't have it any other way."

"We love her for it," Amy added. "If it wasn't for Patty, we wouldn't have known Abby was in town. Remember the time you, Patty, and I snuck into the boys locker room in junior high?"