Into the Fire (5 page)

The only thing Ally knew about Moose’s history was that he had yellow Lab in him, and he was probably around five years old. The first day at the shelter he’d cowered in his crate and refused to come out. It had taken major coaxing to get him out for walks and he didn’t understand any commands, which meant Ally had spent a lot of time restoring his confidence and working with him on the leash. He was a sweetheart, but not an easy dog. The last time someone had come in to look at him, he’d startled and been so afraid he’d defecated in his crate. He simply wasn’t ready for adoption.

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.”

“And he will be. We always had dogs growing up, you know that. All this boy needs is some love and patience and security.”

Patience? Chris wasn’t exactly a model for patience. When he wanted something, he wanted it now. How long before he’d be frustrated when Moose didn’t snap to when he commanded?

“Easier said than executed.”

“It always is,” he answered, and she wondered if they were still talking about Moose or if they were dancing around something else.

“Come on in,” he answered. “It’s my day off and Moose has had enough fetch for a while.” He turned towards the house.

Her mouth dropped open. “You got him to fetch?”

He spun back and grinned, patting his pocket. “I throw, he goes after it, I lure him back with a treat. He’ll get it eventually.”

She shook her head. “Watch you don’t overfeed.”

“Maybe you could try trusting that I know what I’m doing.” He pulled a baggie out of his pocket. “I discovered Moose likes carrot sticks.”

To prove it, he took one out of the bag. “Come on, Moose,” he called, and the dog obediently trotted off and marched at Chris’s heels, leaving Ally behind.

She felt betrayed.

And as much as she knew she was to blame for their breakup, she couldn’t help the little bit of resentment that slid through her as she watched him walk away. The end of their relationship hardly seemed to have made a blip in his life. He’d gone on to do his training and then come back to Wolfville and joined the volunteer department and started his own business. He was surrounded by his family and friends, was well-liked, had his own house. It seemed like he had succeeded in all the ways she hadn’t. Except for the animal shelter. Now all that was slipping away too, and watching him walk off with Moose—
her
Moose—was salt in the wound.

It wasn’t fair to say that he’d taken those things from her, because he hadn’t. But right now it felt that way.

She wanted to get into her car and drive away. Perhaps go home and hide her head beneath her pillow and wait for this to all go away. But she wouldn’t. It wouldn’t do a lick of good, and what she really ought to do was make sure that Chris was prepared for life with a hundred-pound-plus ball of unpredictability.

She trudged up the driveway after them.

She expected commotion inside, but it was surprisingly quiet. She could hear Chris’s voice coming from somewhere—the bedroom, possibly—and went to investigate.

The outgoing dog of outside was gone. Instead, he was sitting, quite awkwardly, in the small space between Chris’s dresser and a chair.

“Come on,” Chris was coaxing, holding out a carrot, but this time Moose wasn’t budging. His head was lowered and he was parked in place.

Chris looked up at her. “I don’t get it. He was fine outside. As soon as we came inside he ran in here and hid.”

Ally looked up at Chris. He really did care, she realized. And he was being patient with him, at least for now. He could be the perfect owner for Moose. Time would tell, of course, but it was a good start.

“He was the same at the shelter. If I took him out on the leash, he wanted to run. It was all I could do to hold him. He had no manners, and we’ve been working on that. But inside, he cowered in his crate.” She swallowed thickly. “It’s so hard not knowing the exact past history. But if I were a betting woman, I’d say Moose doesn’t like closed in spaces with no escape route. He gets anxious when he’s in a confined space.”

“Wouldn’t he want to escape then?”

“Depends on what is waiting for him when he comes out, I suppose,” she replied. “I told you trust was a big thing.”

She considered for a minute. “Look, I’m smaller than you. I’m going to try getting in there with him.”

She worked her way into the small space and slid her bottom down the wall until she was sitting next to Moose, her knees tucked in close. She could feel his fur against her arm and she waited for him to relax, and then she put her hand on his back and stroked him gently. Long minutes passed. Chris sat on the edge of the bed and watched as Ally softly touched Moose’s ears, his shoulders and back. With a big doggie sigh, Moose finally submitted, first by laying down and then twisting, showing his belly.

She rubbed her fingers along his ribs. “What a good boy,” she murmured, then looked up at Chris. “He just needs time. He’s a good dog. Gentle and fun.”

“The only thing I really worry about is when I’m on shift.”

She shrugged. “We had to crate him at the shelter. If you have a room where he can stay, somewhere that he can’t make a lot of trouble, that would probably do. You could try it anyway.”

“The mudroom at the back would work. I can put his food and water in there and a bed. All that’s there is the closet. Nothing for him to get into.”

“Just don’t leave any shoes around for temptation.” She smiled, her hands never leaving Moose’s fur.

“I could put a fence in the backyard too,” he suggested. “Give him a place to run around without worrying about him running away.”

“That’s a great idea. He’s going to be a great pet, Chris. In time. I try to tell all my new owners that there’s a period of adjustment.”

“So I’m an owner now, and not a foster?”

Truth be told, from the moment she’d turned in the yard and seen Moose come galloping, she’d gotten the sense that this was a forever home and not a temporary one. “If you’re ready for that kind of commitment. Just promise me that if he’s too much, you let me know.”

He gave her a strange look, but only said, “You’re very good at this.”

Their eyes locked and Ally shared a fundamental truth with him. “The thing about dogs is that all they need is love, and they return it without conditions. They accept you for who you are. A dog’s heart is always open, and it’s our responsibility to honor that.” She frowned. “This dog wasn’t honored.”

“It’s not the same for cats?”

She grinned. “Dogs have owners. Cats have minions. Cats are special in their own way because they
choose
to give their affection. You just have to keep them in the manner to which they’ve become accustomed.”

“You have a big heart, Ally.”

She shrugged, trying not to acknowledge the warmth that spread through her at his words.

“They have given me far more than I give them.” She sighed. “After the fire, I was sure that I’d rebuild. But I have to be realistic. It was a lot of work getting this going the first time. My car’s a relic and working twenty-five hours a week retail isn’t enough to get my own place. As much as I’d love to start over, I’m just not sure I can.” She patted Moose’s head, which was now lying on her lap.

“So it’s not just the money for the set up.”

“No. Right now we’re all volunteer-based. It probably wasn’t a sustainable model to begin with.”

He was watching her curiously. “But it would be a shame, when you love it so much.”

She shrugged. “I’ve thought about going back to school. A better job and I could get my own place. Give a few rescues a good home, you know?” She looked away from his face. “Dreams change, I guess.”

Except hers really hadn’t. She hadn’t been ready to settle down at twenty-two. She’d wanted to do other things first. But she’d always known that someday she wanted the white-picket-fence life. A husband, a few kids under her feet, a couple of pets, maybe a job she actually liked. It didn’t have to be fancy or elaborate.

But Chris had wanted all those things right away, no matter how young they were. He’d pushed and she’d resisted. And she’d been terrified of saying yes. Terrified that one day he’d wake up and realize he’d rushed into a huge mistake. Even more terrified that one day she’d wake up and he’d be gone. She’d never wanted him to become a firefighter. He would be putting himself in danger every time he went on a call. She knew what it was like to think everything was fine and then have a policeman show up at your door, ripping your world apart. She didn’t want to lose someone she loved that way again.