No one waited in the foyer. The Furry Tails logo—a stylized dog inside a circle—had been painted in white on the slats of wood covering the wall opposite him. Four chairs surrounded a coffee table. On top of that sat a few small pots of cacti and a stack ofASPCA Actionmagazines. The air smelled like pears and dog. A baby gate guarded the bottom half of a door that led to a concrete hallway and the distant sound of barking.
Frowning, he tapped the bell resting on top of the magazines. He hadn’t even started his first workday here, and irritation was already infecting his mood.
He waited. No one responded to the bell, so he punched it with his fist. It rang loudly.
“Coming!” a feminine voice called cheerfully from the back.
According to Furry Tails’ website, Finley had started the non-profit eight years ago out of her house while working a full-time day job. Six years ago, a local farmer had donated the use of his barn as her headquarters, and she’d become the organization’s first paid employee. Two years ago, Furry Tails had built and relocated to this facility—
A woman sailed into the room. She was young, beautiful, and dressed like a hippie in a strange felt hat with a wide brim. “May I help you?”
“My name’s Luke Dempsey. I’m here to see Finley Sutherland.”
She smiled. “I’m Finley Sutherland.”
His body tensed in surprise.
She extended her hand. He shook it.
“It’s great to finally meet you,” she said.
How could this be Finley?
“Welcome to the Furry Tails team.” Stepping away, she stuck her fingers into the tiny front pockets of her bell-bottom jeans. Her head tilted. “Were you expecting someone older?”
“Yes.” Much older.
“That’s a common response when people meet my dad before they meet me.”
“He was in his eighties.”
“I was born when he was fifty-two. You’d think that more children would have resulted from all of those passionate love affairs of his.” She shrugged. “But no. He only had me. And fairly late in the game.”
Ed’s nickname had been Mountain Man. He’d had thick white hair. A white-gray beard. His features were strong and even, but his skin had been deeply lined and permanently tanned.
Luke would never have expected Ed’s daughter to look like this. Skin as pale as the moon. Bright blue eyes. Long black hair. Around five foot eight with slender limbs. Her beige sweater looked like it had been knitted by a person instead of a machine. She wore brown clogs and gold rings on almost every finger.
Why would anyone wear a hat indoors to work with animals? Her body was perfect, though. And those lips—
Stop it. He needed to think straight. It’s just.. . How couldthisbe Ed’s daughter? “How old are you?” he asked bluntly.
“I’m about to turn thirty.” She beckoned him to follow. “Come. Let me give you a tour.”
They walked past the baby gate, which she clicked closed behind them.
“This is a big day for us because you’re Furry Tails’ fifth official employee,” she announced. “For the most part, we function thanks to a large number of volunteers.” She gestured right and left. “Our offices are through there. This is our meeting and training room.This is the classroom for the after-school program. Here are the restrooms. This is the equipment room. This is where we bathe the dogs.”
Through a doorway, they entered a wide space lined with kennels on both sides. About half were occupied with dogs.
“Hello, sweethearts,” she said to them as they made their way toward a door marked with an exit sign.
Luke had only had one dog in his life, when he’d been in elementary school. A golden retriever named Caramel. She’d been very laid-back and he’d gotten along with her fine. But he definitely hadn’t been an animal-crazy kid and wasn’t an animal-crazy adult.
“The rest of the dogs are outside having recess,” Finley told him as they stepped into a large fenced yard. Beyond, forested hills arched toward the sky. Here, toys littered the ground. So did short tunnels and equipment for the dogs to climb.
Dogs of all ages ran around, yipping. One of them was missing an eye. Another had three legs. Another had wheels strapped to his hips, which functioned in the place of his limp back legs.
Mentally, he tried to count how many hours he’d have to work here before he could fulfill his promise and quit.
