His butt wagged weakly, and he reached out to lick her hand. “Okay. Oreo it is. I’d give you some of those, but I don’t think dogs can eat chocolate. Let’s make you comfortable, and see if we can find someone to help us.”
Piper made a nest of her sweatshirt in the passenger seat and then moved her seat forward until she reached the pedals. “Okay, Oreo. We’re going to Phail.”
She rolled her eyes at the name. “First thing on the agenda at my meeting will be a name change.”
Oreo didn’t respond, and Piper’s heart thumped at his stillness as he rested on the seat. She reached out a hand and reassured herself he was breathing but worry gnawed at her.
What if her bad luck extended to this innocent little dog? He wasn’t going to die if she could do anything about it. “Hang on, Oreo. We’re going to get help. Let’s hope we both find what we’re looking for.”
* * *
Growing up with a name like his, Troy Phail knew how to do a few things well. He could handle good natured teasing, but he could also finish a fight if someone else started it. Troy had been taught to value his town and his family history. He’d learned the value of being a team player, and he knew that hard work and determination meant you almost always accomplished your goals. Because a Phail really hated to fail.
But he was currently failing in two areas.
It had been over a month since he’d heard from four of his former military brothers. The six of them had done two overseas tours together and were as tight as regular brothers. Probably closer than most.
When they’d left the military, Troy had talked their team leader, Marcus Ramirez, call sign Arrow, into moving to Phail. Now Arrow was the local deputy and Troy’s closest friend. Without a police station in town, they’d converted the back room of Phail General into an office for him, complete with a holding cell for those few times they needed one.
As if the thought had conjured him, the door to the police office opened and Marcus strode through. “Stan just called in.”
Troy grinned. “What’s the trouble this time?” A cousin of Troy’s grandmother, Stan lived in a farmhouse on the north edge of town. The man refused to move into town because he’d lived his entire life on the farm, but he did get lonely.
Marcus shook his head. “Says there are lights flashing in the woods at night. Wants me to check it out. Do you want to come visit with him?”
Troy checked the clock. “Can’t this time. That city planner is arriving sometime today. Having the store closed wouldn’t make the best first impression.”
“Right. I forgot that was today. I’ll get back as soon as I can.”
Troy laughed. “You seriously think Stan will let you leave quickly? Not unless there’s an actual emergency.”
Marcus sighed. “You’re right. I’ll stop by your cousin’s and pick him up some food before I head out. Then I’ll check out those old shacks in the back of his property, see if anyone is squatting there or using them for something. Good luck.”
He would need it. This was the second area where Troy was failing. Small towns were disappearing all the time. People were moving to cities for jobs with higher pay and he wanted to halt, even reverse, that process here in Phail.
The people who had moved onto the Midnight Lake property just north of town had brought a lot of good with them. More business for the locals, and it had spurred Troy to figure out even more ways to grow the town, but without a budget, the options were few to none.
Troy had personally covered the bill for the city planner’s visit to Phail. It wasn’t like he had a huge bank account, but his family had responsibilities to the town named after them. There weren’t many Phails left, so Troy figured it was his duty to do what he could.
They needed more opportunities to attract new people and keep the people they had. Because of the Midnight Lake group, the town now had a volunteer fire crew and a part-time doctor.
He also needed something that would be a pull for his Army brothers to join them. None of the other four men had found their place since leaving the military. They were drifting, and if Phail had more opportunities, he might be able to lure his buddies here.
The store’s front door opened, but instead of the urban planner, the cook in Troy’s cousin’s diner, strolled in. Troy smiled. “Hey Manuel. What can I help you with today?”
The quiet man grinned and held up a box. “I need to mail some packages.” He placed a box on the counter, and Troy got out the scale.
“Sending Ginny’s cinnamon buns to your mom again?”
Manuel laughed. “Not for another couple of weeks. She likes them fresh for Christmas. But I want these presents in the mail early.”
After Manuel left, a few more people came in looking for snow shovels and batteries. After a bit of a lull, a woman rushed in. She was gorgeous with her thick brown hair piled high on her head and huge brown eyes full of worry. She wore jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. In her arms, wrapped in what looked like a hoodie, was a little dog.
“Are you Troy? I found this dog on the road and I think he was nearly frozen to death. Or he might be sick, but he gulped down all the water I had in the car. I didn’t have any food I was sure he could eat. I had some chocolate bars and a bag of Oreos, but I think dogs are allergic to chocolate. Do you know if that’s right? I don’t want my bad luck rubbing off on him. And do you?—”
The woman made eye contact with him and stopped talking. Then she took a deep breath. “Sorry. I’m rambling but I don’t want him to die and I don’t know what to do.”
Troy blinked as he absorbed all the words that had just spilled out of her mouth. Beautiful, with a soft heart. She was more worried about the dog than anything else. Troy rounded the counter and peeked into the bundle she held. A small black and white dog with huge ears stared back at him. “Hey, boy. Aren’t you a handsome little Frenchy?”