Page 73 of Wanted

Nancy gently pats my hand. “I’m happy to have met you. I do hope you stick around so we can do this again.”

“I’d like that,” I whisper hoarsely.

A light breeze floats across the patio, pushing our hair into our eyes.

“Oh goodness, I can’t wait for the sun to come back out. I have so much gardening to do.”

“You like to garden?” I think back to the flowers I walked past an hour ago.

“My husband and I picked up the hobby when he was still alive. My flower boxes are looking dreadful, but it isn’t as easy as it used to be. My knee, you know? Gives me trouble with all the bending.”

“Can I help? I’d love to see what you have. Maybe Jude will let me put a flower box on his porch.”

Nancy grins. “I’m not going to say no. You find a good day to get away from the Sanctuary, and I’ll tell the other girls. We’ll make an afternoon of it.”

I think I’ve been officially invited to my very first girls’ day in, and I can’t wait.

“Count me in.”

18

Frankie

Unclipping the red leash, I glance up at the gray sky as Greta trots inside. The sweet black and white senior pit bull took me on a long walk this afternoon. She set the pace, and I was happy to follow. Despite her advanced age, she had no problems stopping to sniff every bush along the trail that caught her interest.

I only have one dog left to walk this afternoon before I’m done. Jude drove into town for supplies for the adoption event next weekend. The local print shop finished his order for banners and fliers a few days early, so he left to pick them up.

“Come here, Elvis.” I call the two-year-old hound by clapping my hands on my knees.

The nervous puppy slinks slowly across the room and lays down at my feet. His tail wags side to side. I toss him a treat as a reward and to earn his trust.

“Let’s get some fresh air, huh? Bet that’ll feel good.” The leash clips on easily, and I scratch beneath his chin. He stretches his front paws and pokes his behind in the air.

“You’re such a good boy.” I push open the door, and he follows me out.

He walks by my side, never pulling on the leash. A frown twists my lips as I think about the possible family who lost him. Jude took him in from a man who found him as a stray a year ago. He said he’d put out fliers and called the vets in neighboring towns to see if anyone lost their dog, but nobody claimed him. A job relocation meant he couldn’t keep Elvis any longer, and that’s how the sweet boy wound up at the Sanctuary.

Elvis pauses to lift his leg on a few bushes along the path, marking territory as we proceed down the trail.

All this exercise feels good. I can see my body changing. Growing stronger. It’s no wonder Jude keeps in such fine shape. The physical side of the job is a suitable replacement for a gym membership. It’s a bonus for me. I’ve never had the inclination to join a gym, and as long as I’m here, I won’t have to.

An intense gust of wind sends my hair whipping around my face. A glance at the sky reveals black clouds moving in at a rapid pace. They roll together like waves crashing upon a sandy shore. Shit. The weather was supposed to hold off for a few more hours, but it appears that’s changed. We’re at the midpoint of the trail, so either forward or back will take us an equal amount of time to return.

In the distance, thunder rumbles across the sky.

Elvis releases a long, loud howl with his snout tipped upward before he suddenly dashes to the right. The force yanks the leash straight from my hand, and he’s gone.

“Shit. Elvis!” I call and take off in a mad sprint.

Bushes and grass rustle off to the side of the trail, a sure indication Elvis has gone deep off the path. I stumble through the brush after him. If only I can regain visual and not lose the newcomer on this massive plot of land.

I dig my phone from my back pocket with my non-casted hand and quickly find Jude’s name at the top of my list of contacts.

“Please pick up.”

He’s going to be so mad. He loves his dogs like family, and I freaking lost one. Panic engulfs me in a suffocating wave of adrenaline.

Jude’s voicemail plays in my ear. His raspy greeting soothes my frayed edges, but I end the call. My voice is too anxious and out of breath to pant out a message that wouldn’t send him racing home in terror for his beloved pets.

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