the animal-bathing tub immediately. This newest intake was in dire need of shampoo and lots of water.
Her cheeks colored to a pretty rose. “I’m sorry. He’s a mess, and I’ve been— Well, I was cleaning out some spoiled...stuff. For lack of a better word, we’re both quite smelly.”
For a moment, he wondered about the “spoiled stuff,” but then focused on the matter before him. “I see,” he said in a mild tone. He reached for the scrap of canine in her arms. “So then...about the dog?”
A worried look drew her eyebrows together and her arms tightened the smallest bit.
The pup yipped.
Her deep inhale quivered. “He’s not mine. I found him in the service alley behind my parents’ business. He needs a home.” She visibly pulled herself together again and nailed Zach with that penetrating stare again. “A good home. I’m here to make sure he gets one. And after I leave today, I will come back. To check up on him. As often as it takes to make sure things finally go his way.”
Waving the intake folder, he stepped to her side, smell or no smell. “Let’s see what I can do for you—er...for him.”
Chapter Two
Gabi didn’t get a good look at the man in the shelter until he stood right next to her, a folder tucked under one arm, his intention clear as he reached for her stray. The first thing that drew her attention from the dog to the director, alerting her to his nearness, was his clean, fresh scent. The aftershave he’d used sometime earlier in the day still lingered and offered a spicy hint of woody crispness, a welcome change after she’d spent the past couple of hours smelling a decided...um...lack of freshness.
The shelter director really was attractive. While not an overly tall man, maybe even a hair less than six feet, he still was much bigger than Gabi’s five foot two. The navy blue scrub top he wore lay smooth across a broad chest and wide shoulders, suggesting solid power. His face, not model-handsome, had an outdoorsy bronze glow and exuded strength and character with those rugged lines, a nose with a bump that suggested a long-ago break, and that wide, easy grin. Twin sunbursts of smile creases at his temples bracketed gray eyes, and a shock of streaky dark blond hair brushed his forehead. He didn’t look anything like Gabi would have imagined a man who spent his days indoors caring for homeless animals would look. While she’d naively expected a stereotypical lab tech with dark-rimmed glasses, this man appeared as though he belonged on a ski slope, training for Olympic races, or maybe climbing Mount Rainier, tethered to the rock face by some skinny rope and a handful of flimsy aluminum gadgets. Clearly, the new director didn’t spend all his time inside, bathing dogs and plowing through mountains of paperwork. She wondered what kind of sport appealed to an animal lover.
Or, rather, someone she hoped was an animal lover.
What kind of man would choose this kind of work? What had made him become a shelter director instead of...oh...maybe a Forest Service wildlife biologist? It surprised her to note how this man she’d just met piqued her curiosity.
As her imagination ran amok, his voice rumbled through her. It resonated with a richness that drew her, its calm cadence a welcome invitation to relax. He probably used that comforting approach, that same warm voice to soothe anxious animals.
Then she realized he was waiting. For her response.
Great. She was making a splendid impression, all spaced out like that.
“...don’t you like him?”
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I...ah...got distracted. You were saying?”
His distinctive gray eyes narrowed a fraction. “I wanted to know why you won’t keep the little guy.”
Gabi glanced at the rascal in her arms, the tug on her heart stronger than ever. She rubbed a finger over his head, and he leaned into her touch. The tug grew more insistent. “I wish I could, but I’m only in town to take care of a family matter. My landlord back home has a no-pet, no-exception rule. If I take this guy back to Cleveland with me, we’ll both be homeless.”
He arched a brow. “Cleveland, huh? Pretty far away. And you have family here?”
A family everyone in Lyndon Point knew. Only too well.
The shelter director’s question revealed how new he was to town. All the longtime residents knew her by sight, definitely by the picture her parents kept behind the cash register at Tony’s.
“I grew up here,” she said, “but I left for college in Ohio. Once I finished my degrees, I found a job I love in Cleveland...and so I stayed. But my family is still here.”
“Do you come back frequently?”
A blush crept up Gabi’s cheeks. “Um...well, not as often as my parents would like.”
Again, his brow rose, but he said nothing. He just studied her, and Gabi felt twitchier by the second. She wished she’d taken the time to clean up. Looking—and smelling—like she must by now from cleaning that mess of a kitchen and hugging a stray dog, he had her at a huge disadvantage. Especially since he seemed to be taking her measure, maybe judging her on even the little she’d revealed.
What would he think if he knew how conflicted she felt about life in Lyndon Point—where she was always surrounded by her big, boisterous family and measured by that yardstick? Viewed through that magnifying glass?
Gabi stiffened her spine. She’d made her choices years ago after much consideration. She had nothing to apologize for. Certainly not to some hunk who worked with a bunch of cute unwanted critters.
Just then, the critter in her arms began to wriggle. In less than a nanosecond, he bailed from her clasp. “Hey, you! Get back here.”
The scamp was no fool. He darted between the shelter director’s legs and slipped past the cracked-open door to the building’s inner workings. Gabi took off after him, embarrassment a powerful motivator. She chased her charge—temporary charge—into a large chamber where a cacophony of barks, yips and howls deafened her. She pulled up short.
A pang pierced her heart as she looked around at all the chain-link jails—well, cages, she supposed. Emotions aside, the room was lined on three walls with kennel runs, which were undeniably clean and large, but the residents still rattled the gates with the force of their efforts to escape. Or did they just want to join her, Zach and her foundling for what probably looked to them like a whole lot of hide-and-seek fun?
Oh, get a grip. Both of those thoughts were crazy. She shouldn’t project her feelings, good or bad, onto the dogs. They probably were simply excited by her unexpected presence in the building. And sure, every animal wanted to run free all the time, but it could pose a real danger to a dog out on the streets. At least here at the shelter, these guys were clean and safe.
A few kennels, however, revealed shy, skittish residents huddled in a corner. Her heart went out to them. The rowdy barking was enough to drive her nuts, so she could only imagine how these poor, scared canines felt about the constant racket. Or maybe her oversensitivity to the noise just showed she wasn’t cut out to be a dog owner, after all. Of course! That was it. The little guy she’d found would be better off in a forever home with someone else. She sighed. Somehow that didn’t comfort her much. Her stray had a quite a gift. He’d known just how to worm his way into her heart.
Setting her melancholy aside, she studied the large area, her attention lingering on the various dogs. The shelter population ranged from exquisite examples of the most popular breeds—a couple of retrievers, some shelties and cocker spaniels, a cute Pomeranian, one gorgeous blue-eyed Siberian husky—all the way to a collection of the typical mixed-breeds, whose only claim to fame was the pull they exerted on the viewer’s heart.
Gabi drew in a deep breath and caught the scent of good, strong disinfectant cleaner underlain with a hint of animal musk. The barking continued, the exuberance somewhat tempered but still begging for attention. She felt still another pang. In spite of the satisfactory conditions, these other guys still had