Page 23 of Second Chance Baby

“Bernard,” his teenage owner supplied. “I just got him a few days ago. He’s a Morkie. Do you know about those dogs?”

Carrington nodded. “Yeah, my uncle Moose has one. No, two now, actually. Bernard’s so cute. How old is he?”

“Just under a year and he has so much energy. Never stops for a minute.”

As if to prove it, Bernard started barking up a storm at me and Bridget. She laced her fingers with mine before she crouched in her tight dress to give him a quick rub under the chin. “Aren’t you the most handsome little boy?” she asked, quickly straightening once again.

Bernard responded with more barking before he looked at me expectantly. Because I didn’t know how to keep a hold of Bridget’s hand while crouching, I just murmured to him, noting how my daughter was staring at me pointedly. Did she realize I didn’t want to let go of her mother?

Probably. She was an intuitive kid.

Before I could consider it further, Carrington dropped down to the sidewalk to sit cross-legged. Immediately, Bernardscrabbled into her lap, lapping at her chin with his tiny pink tongue.

“Aww, he likes you,” the teen crooned.

“He’s so sweet. Aren’t you, Bernard?” Carrington cuddled him close, fending off dog kisses with much laughter. “You’re such a good boy.”

Bridget slid me a heavy look which I almost didn’t understand until she nodded at Carrington. It took me a second to grasp what she was suggesting. Was she insinuating Care Bear should get a pet of her own?

And if so, who was going to take care of said pet? Not that I’d be on the road much anymore unless it was a super high-paying job, which probably wouldn’t happen. I needed to stick closer to home for the next little while with the holiday season coming up and all.

Though Carrington was growing older, and some time ago, we’d talked about her getting a dog a little later on.

Maybe that time was now?

“We have to get going, but my name is Cindy, so if you ever want to play with him again, just give me a call. Or if you have a dog of your own, maybe you need help walking him.” She produced a business card with a sweet cartoon dog and handed it to Bridget as if they were in cahoots.

“Oh, I don’t have a dog,” Carrington said sadly, “but thanks.”

“Not yet,” Bridget replied brightly.

Cindy tugged Bernard off Carrington’s lap with a smile. “Say bye, Bernie.”

“Bye, Bernie. I loved meeting you.” Carrington hopped to her feet and cocked her head at her mom. “Not yet?”

“Oh, you never know what could happen, right? A young girl needs a dog of her own.”

“Stanley,” I said immediately, the memory hitting me all at once. “He had the floppiest ears ever, and the softest, silkiest fur. How old did he live?”

“Almost 13.” Bridget’s soft smile had me tugging her hand under my arm so I could rub her knuckles. “He was the sweetest boy ever.”

Carrington’s gaze dropped to our joined hands, but she hurried to speak before I could consider what to do next. “You had a dog when you were young, Mom? What kind?”

“A cocker spaniel. I loved him to pieces. But he was a bit bigger than Bernard. Then later on, we got a German Shepherd, which was bigger still. And he had quite a bark. Doubled as protection in our trailer park.”

“He sure did. Anyone who heard him bark would have definitely thought twice of trying to break into your place.” I relaxed my hold on her hand, but I didn’t let her go. Instead, our linked hands just swung between us as we followed Carrington up the crowded block. She rushed to the crosswalk and glanced back. “We still need to get snacks, but should we go to Every Line A Story before we head back to the truck?”

I shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

Every Line A Story was more of a craft/gift shop and bookstore than anything else though they’d expanded in recent months with more sections. The front now had a ton of stationery carousels along with displays of stuffed animals and toys. And because this was Baby Central, there was a burgeoning baby section to boot.

Bridget traced a fingertip over a rattle shaped like a unicorn. Catching me looking, she swiftly dropped her hand. “I have a niece now. Amerie.”

“Oh, yeah? How old is she?”

She flushed scarlet then mumbled a number I didn’t quite catch.

“Try again?”

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