Raelynn
Two miles into our run, my phone vibrates in my hip pocket. “Hold up, darlin’.” Nash is half a block ahead of me, jogging backwards with a wicked smile on his face.
“There better be an actual person on the other end of that call!”
“I ain’t cheatin’,” I say as I pull out my phone. “And you’re gonna pay for that later.”
Ripper: Are you and Nash busy?
“It’s Rip.” I show Nash the phone with a frown. “He’s not one to ‘drop by.’ Hell, he takes the bus if Cara or Ry ain’t drivin’ him.”
Raelynn: We’re a mile from home. Out on a run. Why?
He doesn’t reply for more than a minute, and I gesture toward the end of the block. “We should go home. In case he shows up.”
“You just don’t want me leaving you in the dust again,” Nash says with a grin.
“Shut it, Mr. Junior State Champion. My knee’s still healin’.” Before we can take off, another text comes in.
Ripper: Do you know where Safe Haven Animal Shelter is?
Raelynn: Nope. But GPS does. Why?
The phone vibrates again, this time with a photo. The gray and white puppy curled into a ball can’t be more than ten pounds, and stares at the camera with big, round eyes. Ripper’s dog, Charlie, lays next to him, the German Shepherd with the mangled ear a giant protector to the tiny pup.
Nash stares at the screen, transfixed, and even zooms in on the dog’s face.
“Rip volunteers at the shelter three days a week,” I explain. “That’s where he met Charlie. I…might have asked him to keep an eye out for…” with a shrug, I reach for Nash’s hand, “a friend for Kiki.”
“And you don’t want another cat?” We head for home, walking slowly, Nash angling brief glances at me every few moments.
“Darlin’, I’d be happy with a whole mess of animals. We can get chickens, a goat, even an aquarium—as long as we find some way to keep Kiki out of the damn thing. We’re buildin’ a life here. Together. You ain’t never had a dog, so…whether we see that one…it’s up to you.”
He’s quiet for another block. Despite how he looked at the picture, I’m almost positive he’s gonna say no until we turn onto our street. “I used to beg Frank for a dog. Every time we moved. He’s the one who got me used to volunteering at local shelters. Said we couldn’t get one of our own, but I could at least be around them whenever I wanted.”
“Rip could probably get you in where he works. If you wanted that.” My heart aches for what Nash went through as a kid. We don’t talk about it a lot. Late at night, after we’ve lost ourselves in one another for so long, all we can do is lie in bed—or on the living room rug—and snuggle, sometimes he’ll open up. But I don’t push. Much.
Nash chuckles and squeezes my hand. “If I did, I might come home with a new member of the family every week.”
A new member of the family.
I don’t know why his words shock me. In the past two months, we’ve been surrounded by family. Last week, after he finished building a huge outdoor table and refinishing the thrift store chairs, we even had the whole Hidden Agenda crew over for a BBQ. Though with fourteen of us—plus the baby—it was more like a free-for-all than dinner.
“Raelynn?” Nash stops, and I blink up at our house, surprised we made it all the way back here without me noticing. “Where’d you go?”
My cheeks catch fire. What the hell was I thinking? Not checking our surroundings? Not paying attention to a damn thing he said. “Nowhere, darlin’. Just thinkin’ about how different my life is now that you’re in it.” Winding my arms around his neck, I lever up on my toes and kiss him for all I’m worth. “How much better it is.”
“So…where is this shelter, anyway?” he asks, grinding his hips against me. “And how long do we have to get there?”
***
Nash
The truck bounces down a dusty dirt road that looks like it leads to the middle of nowhere. “You’re sure this is the way?” I ask.
“Look. There is it.” Raelynn points off to the left, at a blue and white building with a small parking lot. Tall fences surround the property, with lush green grass on the other side. A sign over the building says, “Every Animal Deserves a Home.”
Raelynn hops out of the truck and stares out at the pasture. A horse trots over to the fence, clearly interested in us.
“I never got on a horse again after that night.”
A few weeks ago, after Raelynn told the rest of Hidden Agenda about losing Brooks, she confessed she hadn’t ridden a horse since the night he died.
“Hey there, sweetie,” she says as she approaches the majestic black creature. “I don’t have any sugar for you.” The horse makes a soft sound, dipping its head so Raelynn can rub her hand up and down its nose. “You sure are a beauty.”
“That’s Shadow,” an older woman says from the door of the building. She shuffles over to the fence and pulls a carrot out of her apron. “She’s partial to these.”
“Can I?” The light in Raelynn’s blue eyes is like a balm to my soul. She laughs when the horse gently takes the carrot from her fingers. “Nash, come meet her.”
Shadow nudges my hand when I approach, and the gray-haired woman hands me a second carrot. I hold it in my palm. The horse’s lips are velvety soft. Once the snack is gone, she tosses her head and trots away.
“You must be Raelynn and Nash? I’m Melissa. Your friend Rick is in the dog kennel. Follow me.”
“Rick?”
Raelynn elbows me in the side. “I’ll explain later.”
Melissa points to a long, single-story building. “Go around back. He’s outside with Charlie and the little one.”
As soon as the woman’s out of earshot, Raelynn whispers, “As far as the government is concerned, Ripper’s name is ‘Rick Mercury.’”
“Like…as in Queen?”
“Hush up. He likes Queen. And so do I.”
Charlie bounds over to us as soon as we slip through the gate enclosing a large doggie play area, his tongue lolling half out of his mouth around an old, dirty tennis ball.
“Over here,” Ripper calls. The German Shepherd runs back to the man, barking the whole way.
I sweep my gaze around the fenced-in area, confused. “I thought we were here to see—“
Rip takes a single step to the left, revealing the little gray and white puppy cowering behind him. “She’s a Staffordshire Bull Terrier,” he says, his eyes locked on his boots. “The mobile vet thinks she’s about four months old. But she’s so small, the other dogs pick on her.”
“Does she have a name?” Raelynn asks.
“Not one that’ll stick. She’s only been here a week.”
I sink to my knees a few feet away, and after a moment, the pup wobbles to her feet. After a quick glance up at Ripper, who nods at her, she trots over to me.
“Hey, baby girl.” Her coat is soft and sleek, and she whines at me until I pick her up, then licks my chin.
Raelynn crouches down next to me. The little thing wriggles like she’s the happiest dog on the planet and paws at a lock of her hair.
“Get to know her,” Ripper says, leaning down to scratch Charlie behind the ears. “The shelter’s open for another hour. Melissa has all the paperwork ready to go in the office.”
The man ambles off toward another, smaller building, with the German Shepherd at his side.
The puppy launches herself out of my arms and starts running circles around us. “He seems pretty sure we’re going to take her.”
Raelynn laughs as the little dog growls at a large patch of grass, then flops over between us. “Rip’s damn perceptive. And good with animals. It’s his super power. So what do you think, darlin’? Are we makin’ this family a little bigger?”
“Yeah. I think we are.”