Page 11 of Lead Me A Stray

I told him to forget it ever happened.

Because he said it was a mistake.

It’s only when I think about the look on his face that I can’t fully believe my account of that night. He’d been wrecked, and that’s not the look of a man who’s just looking for a good time.

He cares—I know he does.

But does he just care because I’m his sister’s best friend? Becausewe’refriends?

Or is it something more?

The questions will have to wait because on my second pass, I catch sight of white-and-gray fur huddled between a small bench and a concrete planter.

Bingo.

Making a U-turn, I park my truck and get out, grabbing several leash options and a pocket full of snacks before shutting the door with a soft snick.

“Hi, baby,” I coo, keeping my voice gentle but happy as I creep toward the obviously terrified animal. “That’s a sweet baby, yes, you are.”

Slowly, I reach into my pocket, closing the distance as I continue murmuring to the dog before squatting down and giving him a second to adjust.

Thunder rolls in the distance and I know my time is running out. Throwing the first treat, I don’t make the dog move at all, sending two more the same way and watching the little thing gobble them up.

With patience we do not have time for, I throw the next couple a little bit closer to me, forcing the dog to abandon his spot. It feels like an eternity but he finally does, low to the ground. The dog finds each treat, following the trail right to me.

It’s working.

Thank God, it’s working.

He’s almost close enough I can reach him, my heart in my throat as I hold my palm out, a few treats sitting in the middle, and wait.

Almost there.

Like the crack of a whip, thunder and lightning descend on Hearts Bend, the momentary shock making me unable to grab the dog before it bolts, this time avoiding the bench and shooting into the bushes while droplets of rain fall from the sky.

I’m out of time, and it’s time for that helping of crow.

7

MACK

Rain pounds against my windshield, the wipers workin’ hard or hardly workin’—it’s tough to tell—but it doesn’t matter because I’m almost home and I could use a night with my ass glued to the couch.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

The sound of my phone vibrating in the cupholder cuts through the pelting of water, my eyebrows shooting up as Piper’s name flashes across the screen. Without hesitation I accept it, not even getting to say hello before she starts yelling down the line.

“Mack? Mack, are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Where are you? Are you all right?”

“I’m on Main Street tryin’ to catch this dog, and Rory is sick and I need your help. I know it’s a lot to ask but?—”

“What side are you on?” I yell, hopefully loud enough that she can hear me as I gun it toward Main Street and spot her truck parked off to the side.

“Go past where I’m parked; I’m at the end by the hedges.”

“I see you.”