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“I remember you. Axel’s sister.”
She sets down the bag she’s carrying to unlock the door. “You have a beautiful service dog in the front seat of your truck that I’ve heard about.” She grins. “Evan and Beth told me you might need help with a dog you recently acquired.”
“That’s right. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you and what you’re doing with the dog training and rescue. I didn’t realize you worked here, too.”
“I own the dog grooming shop and just started a nonprofit dog rescue and training facility near the Golden Gable Inn.”
“Busy lady.” I nod, impressed.
“I love it. Why don’t you bring her in and let me look her over?” she says as she opens the door. Dogs bark and whimper from the back of her shop. “I have a full day booked, but I can make time for you.”
“Okay,” I say, grateful for her help. I turn and open the passenger door, and Harley whimpers, but her tail wags. I look up and realize she looks happy to see the German shepherd in the window. He’s on his hind legs watching her and looks happy to see her, too.
“Well, how about that? Maybe you’ll make a new friend,” I say softly as I scratch her ears. “Let’s go say hi.”
We step inside, and Ophelia has already donned a black waterproof apron. She walks over and leans down. “Hey, sweet girl.”
“She belonged to my buddy, and he passed away,” I say hoarsely.
“I’m really sorry to hear that.” She strokes Harley’s fur. “I bet you both miss him,” she says softly.
“Thanks. It was unexpected, and Harley’s been very sad. I didn’t even realize a dog could be this sad.”
“Of course, they can. Dogs are highly intuitive animals.”
I nod and look over to see the German shepherd watching us curiously.
“Do you have any paperwork or records for her?” she asks, looking up at me.
“I do in my truck. Let me grab it.”
She has Harley up on the grooming table and nods to me when I return. “I’m going to see how she does with Mr. Pickles.”
“Mr. Pickles?” I ask as I set the paperwork down on the counter.
“My dog. I train other dogs with him. He’s like my assistant. Mr. Pickles,” she calls over to the German shepherd in the front window.
The front latch to the dog crate in the front window turns, and he opens the door. He comes bounding in and circles and sits next to Ophelia, then looks up at her like he’s waiting for her next command.
“He opens doors?” I ask, surprised.
“Of course, he does. He’s a certified good boy. You want to help me with Harley, buddy?” she coos, reaching down to scratch his ears.
She lifts Harley off the table and sets her down, and Harley turns into a different dog before my eyes. She looks happy, her ears are perked up, and her tail wags feverishly. They sniff each other and begin to play.
“She looks like a really good dog. I’m sorry for the circumstances,” she remarks, watching them play.
“Thanks,” I say, swallowing a lump in my throat.
“Why don’t you leave her here for the morning? She can play with Mr. Pickles, and I’ll get her cleaned up. She’ll probably feel better with a good bath and blow out, won’t you?” she says to Harley, who is currently sniffing Mr. Pickles as he licks her face in return.
“Okay, I appreciate it. I’ll just be down at the shop,” I tell her. I lean down to pet Harley and say, “See you later, girl.” She barely pays attention when I walk out, and I hear Ophelia speaking softly to her.
* * *
Thanks for the flowers. Yes, I’ll go to the fall festival with you.
Warmth fills my chest as I get ready for the game. Callie and I are together, I’m coaching, and things are looking up. When I first came home, I didn’t know what I wanted. I always knew I’d come back to Freedom Valley. My dad’s here and Goldie. But I didn’t expect everything to turn out like it has with Callie back too. It’s better than I ever could have expected. I didn’t expect a second chance with her, but now that I have it, I’m going to fight for her every step of the way. I won’t be a self-sacrificing idiot. I won’t shut her out.
