coming next, she couldn’t have guessed at the enthusiasm with which the dogs—more than two dozen in various breeds and sizes—greeted Simon.
He laughed—really laughed—as the dogs ran around his feet and nuzzled his hands with their wet noses, begging to be petted.
“These are my rescue dogs.” He crouched briefly to accept doggie kisses as he scratched ears and wriggling tail ends.
Was this the same man who, in the past, had such a chip on his shoulder?
The twins gurgled in delight and flapped their arms so hard Miranda could barely keep control of Hudson. Simon tossed Harper into the air amidst much giggling.
Miranda had as many questions as Simon had dogs, but she started with the most obvious one.
“Where is Christmas?”
“I’m sorry?” His eyes widened.
“Thanksgiving was last week and you don’t have a single decoration up yet. And no tree!”
“You almost make it sound illegal.”
“It should be. Where’s your holiday spirit?”
He laughed. “You make up for it at your house.”
“That’s truly sad,” she said, her frown halfway between real and mocking.
He scoffed it off.
“I brought you here to meet my dogs, not critique my lack of Christmas decorations,” he chided.
She gave in reluctantly. “You keep all of these guys in your house? I noticed you have some kennels out there, but they’re all empty.”
Evidently relieved that he didn’t have to talk about Christmas any longer, he grinned and bounced up and down to keep a fussy Harper, who wanted to be thrown in the air again, happy.
“Mostly they live with me. They are all crate-trained and I use the kennels we passed by when necessary, but for the rescues that I plan to rehome, living in the house with me helps them prepare for life with their forever families. And the ones who will never be adopted out for whatever reason, well, they are in their forever home.”
A medium-size, wire-haired dog limped up and bumped Miranda’s leg with his snout, and then sat prettily, waiting for her attention. It was only when she reached down to scratch his head that she noticed he was missing one of his front legs.
Miranda felt awkward, not only because she was seldom around dogs, but because this one looked as if it had suffered a major injury at some point. Still, she continued to tentatively scratch the dog’s ears and pat his back.
“That’s Cumberland,” Simon said by way of introduction. “But I just call him Chummy. He was run over by a car on the highway and left to die. But he’s a fighter. As you can see, he doesn’t let a little thing like missing one leg get him down.”
“So you think you will be able to rehome him, then?”
Simon shook his head. “Unfortunately, Chummy has other health issues besides his leg. He’ll stay with me for as long as he lives. But to be honest, I’ve fallen completely in love with Chummy. I wouldn’t adopt him out even if I could. He’s my dog. I have a blind husky named Loki, too.”
He whistled and a beautiful husky with gray and white fur trotted directly and obediently to Simon’s side. Miranda could hardly tell the dog was blind until she looked into the husky’s eyes, which were white and hazy.
“Extraordinary,” Miranda murmured, then caught Simon’s gaze and held it. “You’re not a typical dog rescuer, are you?”
He ran a hand down his face as if he was embarrassed to admit the truth, although Miranda was impressed by the size of his heart. “No. Not really. I don’t keep the dogs in kennels until they are hopefully adopted out to new families. I rarely have folks visiting the ranch. Instead, I train them to be AKC Canine Good Citizens and then hold adoption events at Maggie’s Pet Store. I’ve found that trained dogs are easier to rehome, and they make better family members once they’re adopted. As for Chummy and Loki—I suppose I just can’t say no to an animal in need.”
He swallowed hard. “When I first saw Chummy, he was all mangled, and yet his eyes were so hopeful. Even with as much pain as he was in, he let me approach him and take him to the vet. Most people would have put him down, I guess, thinking that was the most humane thing to do. But in my heart I knew Chummy wanted to live. Seeing him all bandaged up with an IV sticking out of him—I almost couldn’t stand it. But Chummy recognized me and wagged his tail. He has more courage than I’ll ever have.”
Miranda’s heart warmed. She highly doubted that. In her mind, Simon showed an exemplary amount of courage. She could see how devoted he was to his cause. He was as passionate about his rescue endeavors as she was to her photography, only the work he did helped God’s creatures, ministered to those who couldn’t help themselves, while hers...had been completely for her own benefit. Publicizing famous people who didn’t need any more boost to their egos. The closest thing she got to true charity was photographing high-profile, black-tie charitable events, and even those had mostly been a joke, a way for rich people to feel good about themselves.
“Come sit down for a minute,” Simon invited, settling himself on the sofa with Harper on his lap and patting the seat next to him.
Miranda tentatively made her way to the couch, careful to step around the dogs and not on them. She admittedly wasn’t the most coordinated woman on the planet at the best of times, and the moving sea of fur made her feel like she was walking on a field of land mines with a baby in her arms.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally parked herself safely onto the couch and cuddled Hudson close to her.
“I brought you up here, not only to meet Chummy, but because I have a couple of dogs I’d especially like to introduce to Harper and Hudson,” he said.
She flashed him a surprised look. He couldn’t possibly think that with all she had going on, she’d want to adopt a couple of dogs, or even one.
“I appreciate what you do here,” she said, trying to buffer her next words. “But I want to make it clear up front that I have no intention of adopting a dog. They’re cute and all, but I’ve already got my hands full with the twins as it is.”
Which was true, but it was more than just a matter of having time to take care of a pet. After seeing the way Simon interacted with his rescues and how excitedly they responded to him, she felt fairly certain she wasn’t a dog person.
Other than Chummy, the dogs had mostly ignored her.
“Oh, no,” Simon said, raising his free hand palm out. “You misunderstand me. I’m not pulling some sneaky stunt on you to try to get you to adopt a dog. It’s just that—well, maybe it would be easier to show you than to try to explain.”
“Zig! Zag! Come here, boys.”
Immediately after Simon called, two identical small white dogs dashed to Simon’s side, their full attention on him.
“Down,” Simon said, and both of the dogs instantly obeyed.
Miranda looked from one dog to the other and a lightbulb went off in her head. She understood exactly what Simon was getting at, why she wanted Harper and Hudson to see these particular dogs.
“Twins!” she exclaimed.
Simon laughed.
“Not exactly. They’re littermates. Someone dumped them off at the side of the highway, tied in a bag. A Good Samaritan happened to see the bag moving as she drove by and she turned her car around to investigate. Once she realized the bag contained puppies, she contacted the town vet, Aaron Grimes, and he called me.”
He helped an overexcited Harper pet one of the dogs, and taking Simon’s lead, Miranda helped Hudson scratch the ears of the other.
“Soft fur, see, Harper?” Simon said in the high-pitched