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As soon as he rolled to a stop she jumped out of the car and ran back through the snow. A whimper caught her ear. Something was hurt.
“If it’s a wounded animal, stay clear,” called Granger. “They can be dangerous.”
She slowed her steps as she came close to the creature. Pulling out her phone, she activated the flashlight and played it over the small lump of shivering fur. Porcupine? Raccoon? Coyote?
Her flashlight found the animal’s head. “It’s a puppy,” she cried. A big-eared, shivering, moist-eyed puppy. Maybe a Chihuahua? It seemed to be in shock, because it made no effort to move either toward or away from her. “I don’t think it’s wounded. Just abandoned.”
Granger reached her side in a few long strides, and crouched next to her. He crooned gently to the puppy as he extended his hand toward it. Him? Her? It was impossible to tell while it was balled up into such a tight lump of wet hair.
“I think someone must have brought him out here and left him.” Granger’s big hand hovered over the puppy, then slowly descended until it was within reach of the puppy’s nose. He allowed the little creature to sniff him, to reassure himself that Granger was no threat. Then he lightly stroked two fingers along the top of his head. The puppy’s eyes half-closed, then he butted his head against Granger’s hand. A few more gentle strokes, then Granger opened his hand so the puppy could curl himself into it.
Bliss realized she was holding her breath. “Do you think he’s injured?”
“Can’t tell yet. I wonder if there’s a vet in this town.”
“I’m sure there’s at least a large-animal vet for all the farmers around here. I’ll call around. Wait, first I’ll get a blanket for him. Do you think he needs water? I’ll grab my water bottle. Here. Wrap him in my scarf.” She ripped the cashmere pashmina off her neck.
“Are you sure? It looks expensive.”
“It was a gift. I don’t care.” A minor member of the Swedish royal family had given it to her. Of course he’d hoped for something in exchange, so it wasn’t so much a gift as a lure. In general, she didn’t trust gifts, at least those from men.
Granger took the scarf from her and wrapped it around the shaking little body in the snow. Sodden cardboard lay under the poor puppy. She didn’t know much about dogs, since her lifestyle didn’t allow for pets. But she didn’t think he was a newborn. From what she’d seen in movies, newborn puppies looked like squirmy little sausages.
“How old do you think he is?” she asked Granger as he very gently lifted the puppy from the ground.
“Couple months. He can survive without his mama, but not out here in the forest. He’s lucky a coyote didn’t find him before we did. You did,” he corrected. “Good eyes.”
Oh, a compliment from Granger. A real compliment, too, not one about how pretty her eyes were, but about how sharp they were. “Thanks. People think my specialty is being looked at, but it’s actually being the looker.” That didn’t sound right. That wine buzz was still messing her up. “I mean, the one who looks and sees, not ‘looker’ as in…oh, never mind.”
She gave up as they both rose to their feet. Granger cradled the abandoned dog in the crook of his elbow. A flash of an image came to her—a baby in his arm, looking up at him with wide wondering eyes. She chased it away. Carly’s baby news had her seeing things.
“Better get on the phone and see what the vet options are.” Granger spoke without sentiment, but she could see perfectly well that he was just as taken with the little pup as she was.
They got back into the car and Granger turned up the heat. The puppy stopped shivering and fell asleep against his chest. She wished she could take a photo and publish it in some kind of hunky FBI agent with rescue puppy calendar, if such a thing existed.
“Should I use my phone outside the car so my voice doesn’t wake him up?” she whispered.
Amusement flashed across Granger’s face, softening those strong features. “He’s a dog. He’ll be fine.”
She called Carly for a vet referral. Carly put Thomas on the phone, since he’d lived in Lake Bittersweet much longer. He gave her the number of a vet in Lake Bittersweet, and another one in Braddock. “I think Vic Chang might be out of town, so find out who’s backing him up. If it’s Morgan, go somewhere else. He’s no good once he starts drinking around five every day.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
When the voice who eventually answered the local vet’s number slurred the “l’s” in “hello,” she hung up without saying a word. The Braddock office had an emergency night vet on duty, but also a three-hour wait.
“I don’t mind, do you? I can drop you off at the inn if you like.”
One glare from Granger put an end to that thought. “I’m coming,” he growled.
“Then let’s switch seats. I’ll drive so you can keep playing puppy bed. The little guy needs his sleep.”
“Do you feel okay driving now?” he asked in a low voice that vibrated across her skin.
“Yes, wide awake.”
He nodded, then gingerly extracted himself from the driver’s seat and walked around to the passenger side. The puppy barely stirred the entire time.
“What should we call him?” She turned the key in the ignition, keeping an eye on the puppy to see if the engine noise would wake him up. Apparently nothing was going to wake him up until he’d recovered from his trauma.
