Her daughter was taking extra classes at the university now. She slid her laptop into her backpack, twisted her strawberry blond hair into a knot, and left for school.
Just then, the front door creaked softly. When it swung open, Ivy flicked her eyes up and hesitated, taking in the younger man who stood before her.
Oddly, she’d seen him before. A memory flashed through her mind.
The horse whisperer.
With dark-lashed blue eyes, a muscular build, and tattoos covering his arms, this man filled the room with his presence. A fluffy white Australian Shepherd beside him stared up at Ivy with alert eyes.
She tried to recall what Emilie said about him.A doctor, that was it.
Behind the polished antique reservation desk, Shelly nudged her.
Ivy ignored her sister, though she wondered what the man’s story was and why he was here. She cleared her throat. “Welcome to the Seabreeze Inn.”
The sound of the surf drew his attention, and his gaze drifted through open windows. “Looks like a great day to catch waves out there.”
“Sure is,” Shelly said, a mischievous smile on her lips. “Hope you brought your swimsuit.”
A grin crossed his face. “This time of year, I think I’d need a wetsuit. I’m Caleb Montana. I reserved a pet-friendly room.”
Ivy tapped the reservation screen, ignoring another jab from Shelly. “I see your reservation, Dr. Montana. We have a room for you in our Sunset suites behind the main house.”
Ivy began the registration process while Shelly fished out an old-fashioned key. They still used these, even after the renovation they’d just completed. The inn still retained the flavor and charm of a grand, century-old beach house, just with working plumbing and electricity, much to Ivy’s relief.
Ivy looked up. “And who is this with you?”
Caleb looked down with admiration at his canine companion. “This is Starry. She found me on a camping trip when she was a pup. The stars overhead were amazing that night, and when I spun around, it reminded me of a van Gogh.”
“Starry Night, right?” Ivy recalled seeing the Vincent van Gogh painting at the Museum of Modern Art in New York City.
Caleb grinned. “Yeah, at MoMA. So that’s how she got her name. Don’t worry, she’s friendly.”
Ivy held out her hand, and Starry inched forward to sniff it. The dog’s tail began to wag, and she licked Ivy’s hand.
Caleb nodded his approval. “She seems to like you. Do you have any dogs?”
Before Ivy could answer, footsteps creaked on the stairway behind them.Glancing up, Ivy saw their long-term resident descending.
Gilda was a magazine feature writer who often kept to herself, except for volunteering at Thrifty Threads, a secondhand shop that supports animal rescue and helps find new homes for abandoned pets. Her pink-tinted hair glistened in the sunlight flooding the entryway, and she carried a small Chihuahua in her arms.
At the sight of Starry, the little dog’s ears perked up, and she fairly vibrated with excitement.
Gilda laughed. “Pixie wanted to go downstairs, and now I see why. She loves big dogs and thinks she’s one of them, don’t you, sweetikins?”
Starry lifted her nose to Pixie, acknowledging her withkeen interest and a wag of her tail. Still, Starry remained by Caleb’s side.
However, a split second later, Pixie wriggled free of Gilda’s grasp and leapt, sailing through the air like a fearless hang glider—only without the glider.
“No, no, baby!” Stretching her arms toward Pixie, Gilda stumbled on the stair. She grabbed the railing to stop her fall.
Shelly cried out in horror, but she was too far from Pixie. “Catch her!”
Ivy couldn’t move fast enough, but Caleb dove for the tiny dog in a flash. Unfortunately, he fell short, hitting the floor with a thud.
Pixie landed with a thud just out of his grasp, her front leg buckling on impact. An anguished screech split the air.
Horrified, Ivy rushed to help Pixie, and they all gathered around the poor little creature.
