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“You don’t want to do this, do you?” Sage asked, interrupting his thoughts.
“Do what? Take Happy back to his owner? The same owner that let him loose and didn’t even put up posters for his return or post any sort of notice online—”
“How do you know that they didn’t? Did you look?”
He could feel her intense stare as he maneuvered the car down the street. “I might have done a quick search last night while Happy was getting adjusted to his new surroundings.”
“I bet you did more than a quick search.”
Was she able to read him that easily? He wondered what she made of him. He was tempted to ask, to see how much she got right. The question hovered on the tip of his tongue.
“Stop!”
There was nothing in front of them. He checked the rearview mirror as he jammed the breaks. “What’s the matter?”
“This is it.”
“What is?”
She pointed out the window at the older home with the front door hanging open and a moving truck in the driveway. Beside the driveway was a wrought-iron post with the street number. Sage was right. This was the place. He’d been so caught up in his thoughts that he’d almost passed it by.
He wheeled the car into a parking spot on the street. He glanced out Sage’s window at the stately home. Not too big, but not small either. The outside was stone and the front door was red and arched. The hedges were trimmed. And a for-sale sign was in the front yard.
Arf! Arf!
“Sounds like Happy knows he’s home.” Sage didn’t smile.
So all it took was a cute dog to win her over. He was beginning to wonder if Sage was having second thoughts about returning the dog. All he had to say was the owner better have an explanation for letting the dog loose and not searching for him. It better be a really good excuse.
“Okay. Let’s get this over with.” Trey exited the car and quickly made his way around to open Sage’s door.
Happy was so excited and wiggly that Sage let him down. With his leash on, he led them across the road and up the walk to the open front door. Trey wasn’t happy about this. He didn’t want to see anything else happen to Happy. The little dog could have died out on the streets. And where was his owner? Moving away without their dog?
Trey was about to ring the buzzer when an older man with gray hair entered the foyer with a big box in his hands. His eyes widened when he saw them standing on the landing. “If you came to look at the house, it’s by appointment only.”
Didn’t the man see the dog? Didn’t he care? Trey struggled to keep his temper in check. “We didn’t come to look at the house.”
As though Sage could tell that Trey wasn’t at all pleased with any of this, she said, “We came because we...er...rather he—” she gestured to Trey “—found your dog.”
“My dog? I don’t have one.”
Sage bent over and scooped up Happy. “You mean, this isn’t your dog?”
Happy licked her cheek and wagged his tail. Trey wondered what it was like to be that happy, even after the one person who was supposed to love and protect you disappears from your life. Trey was not the least bit happy.
“That’s my mother’s dog.” The man set the box down and came closer. “I didn’t know what had happened to him. I thought the people who were supposed to be taking care of him for her had taken him home.”
“No.” Trey wasn’t happy with the man’s lack of concern. “He’s been wandering the streets half-starved and injured.”
The man’s hesitant gaze met his before it turned back to the dog. He reached out to pet Happy and a low growl filled the air. Both Trey and Sage turned surprised gazes at the dog. He seemed to like everyone except this man.
“Is your mother home?” Sage asked.
The man shook his head, making his comb-over slide down on his forehead. With a swipe of his hand, it moved back over the bald spot. “She passed on last week.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.” Sage looked a bit awkward as though not sure what to say next.
“Will you be taking care of the dog?” Trey asked, not sure the man would do any better than the dog-sitter who originally lost Happy.
