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Scurrying to the Wrangler, he maneuvered the dog onto the back seat then hopped in the driver’s seat. He grabbed his phone and hit Donovan’s contact. His oldest brother had a Pyrenees puppy so he most likely had a vet too.
“Hey, Jackson,” Donovan said.
“I need the address for Remi’s vet,” Jackson said, skipping the pleasantries.
“Remi’s vet?” Donovan asked. “Did you get a pet?”
“No.” He started the Wrangler. “I found a pet that needs medical attention. I don’t see any owners nearby, but this guy needs help immediately.”
“Shit. Okay. Give me a minute.”
Jackson reversed away from the gates of Pine River Cottages and headed for the main road, not liking how quiet and still that dog was in the back seat.
“Hang on, buddy. Please,” he whispered.
Donovan rattled off a name and an address, and Jackson headed there directly. Fortunately the building had an emergency room that was still open and after sliding the dog out of the back seat, he ran for the doors. Once inside, a technician immediately guided him to an exam room.
“I found this dog in the rain,” he said. “There’s cable wrapped around its back legs, but I didn’t have anything to cut it with. It passed out when I picked it up.”
“Okay. Set this baby on the table here.” The vet tech patted the steel table in the room.
Jackson carefully lowered the dog and peeled his shirt from its head. In the bright lights of the exam room, the dog’s coat was a beautiful auburn shade, reminding Jackson of nutmeg. It had big ears like a German Shepherd’s, but he’d never seen coloring like this on a Shepherd.
“What breed of dog is this?” he asked the tech who was inspecting the pup’s bound and bloody back legs.
“Looks like a purebred Australian Kelpie,” the tech said. “Incredibly active dogs that are highly intelligent. They love to be busy with tasks like herding sheep or cows. You don’t know the owner?”
Jackson shook his head, droplets of rainwater rolling down his neck. “Came across it in the road over by Pine River Cottages.”
“Let me get the vet in here and we’ll see about freeing this poor guy.” After handing Jackson a towel, she disappeared. Jackson wiped his face and hair with the towel then ran his hand over the dog’s wet coat.
“You’re going to be fine, buddy. We’ll get you all patched up and find your family, okay?”
The dog’s side rose and fell, letting Jackson know it was still alive. Thank God. A day shouldn’t end with a dead dog. He smoothed the fur between the dog’s eyes for a few moments before realizing the dog’s eyes were open and watching him.
“Hey, there. You’re a strong boy, right? You want to get back to your people, don’t you?”
The dog blinked those striking yellow-green eyes at him, its front paw hooking on Jackson’s wrist where he leaned his hand on the exam table. Jackson’s throat tightened.
The vet and tech stopped Jackson from blubbering like a pansy when they came into the exam room. He stepped back from the table and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans after draping the towel on the room’s only chair.
“I’m sure someone is missing this handsome boy,” the vet said, which only made the knot in Jackson’s throat worse. The idea that some little kid was wondering where his dog was tonight was the definition of tragic.
In his archaeological work, Jackson was in the business of finding things. His next assignment was apparently helping this dog find its way home.
****
Isabel Perri hung her favorite summer dress on a hanger and placed it in the closet in her new bedroom. Had she planned on moving in with her grandfather who owned Pine River Cottages? Well... no. But when Grandpa Eugene had called her—from the hospital—a few weeks ago after he’d had a heart attack, she had done the only thing she could. She’d packed up her things, piled what fit into her SUV, put the rest in a trailer, and towed herself and her shit from Pennsylvania to Vermont to be with him.
It wasn’t as if she’d gotten her dream of opening a resort going yet. A little time gaining some additional experience running her grandfather’s establishment wouldn’t go to waste. She’d use Pine River Cottages as another career builder and maybe learn a few tidbits to help her make her own project a smashing success.
This was good.
It was.
Except it felt like a trap. Maplehaven, Vermont wasn’t exactly a hotspot. In fact, the geography itself sequestered the tiny town behind three huge mountains that cut off the outside world. Not ideal for tourism. Sure, Isabel had grown up here and had fond memories of the beautiful natural landscape. The people had always been nice too.
Most of them.
