Slowly, painfully, the creature rose. Each step looked like torture as it made its way to his lap, where it collapsed heavily with a moan.
Luc opened his mouth to protest again, but the dog cut him off with a sigh, more eloquent than a howl.
It didn’t want to go back, and Luc wouldn’t force it. Christ, what was wrong with those people that they wouldn’t even take proper care of an animal? He pushed away the mental image of that woman again, settled both legs back in the vehicle, and reached out to slam the truck door shut.
Okay. So they’d take a trip to the SPCA tomorrow. Or the vet. But first, he needed to give it something to eat. The dog, which weighed nothing, was more skeleton than muscle, its spine a series of fragile, pointed knobs under his hand.
Sliding one hand into the animal’s matted fur, he put the truck into gear and reversed quickly, not letting himself think of the woman he’d turned away just a few hours before.
3
One thousand and fifty dollars. That was how much the dog had cost him. Which meant he’d have to repair the ancient tractor himself after all, since he wouldn’t be able to afford the new one.
There’d been a moment as Luc had bathed the dog the night before—a connection from its brown eyes to his—when he’d felt the animal’s thank-you like a caress, heard it like words. “Don’t get attached,” he’d said. “I’m taking you into town tomorrow.” That had been when Luc realized he was talking out loud.
After the bath, it had eaten half of Luc’s ham and, more notably, drunk about a liter of water. How could anyone withhold clean water from a dog? After vomiting up the ham, it had settled onto a bed of blankets Luc made in front of the fire and gone to sleep with a satisfied huff.
Hours later, after listening to its noises, he’d gone down to tend to it and…My God.Every time he saw it, he was shocked anew. Even after the bath, its fur was patchy and thin, its skin flaked and mangy. One of its paws was a mess, no doubt infected—thus the limp.
A torn-up paw, heartworm, fleas, malnutrition, dehydration. Whatwasn’twrong with the creature? And when Luc had suggested taking it—no,him, not it, because the dog was a boy—to the SPCA, the vet had given him that look, the one that said that would be imminent death for a creature with so many issues.
Vaccinations, parasite treatment, antibiotics… The words had swirled into a great big invoice and a couple of overnight stays for the animal, who needed IV fluids, among other things.
Now, Luc was headed home alone after making the biggest mistake of all—naming the damned thing.
The memory made him smile.Dog, he’d called it, which the vet tech hadn’t found funny at all.
“Just Dog?” she’d asked.
“Yes.”
“That’s it?”
“I could call itLeDog?”
“Alrighty.LeDog Stanek,” she’d said, shaking her head as she typed the name into the computer. She handed him the bill with one of those big, fake American smiles on her face.
Back home, he made his way up to the barn to top off his barrels, irritated at the late start.
That nurse could smile, though, couldn’t she, consideringLeGoddamned Dog had cost him more than a month’s bills, groceries, and gas combined?
Things were simpler alone.
* * *
Abby woke up, fed Sammy the last of her toast with butter and honey, and sent him over to the Cruddups’ place with the excuse that she needed to check the fence line.
She mustered what little courage she had, along with a fresh bout of resolve, and trudged for half an hour through the dead grass back to the fence. Back to the hole. Back to big, stupid Grape Man. As she climbed through, she ignored the frigid rock face above and the few snowflakes floating from the sky, which looked thick, soupy, and ready to open up.
She approached the man where he clipped away at a different section of vines. His face was tight in concentration, every move sharp and precise—until he looked up and saw her. When he did that, his features dropped into an irritated scowl.
Goodness, how on earth had she thought he might be handsome? Nobody that stern could possibly be appealing. Not with those harsh features, that too-big nose, and that unfriendly gaze. She lifted her head.
“Morning, sir.”
His eyes narrowed, the only part of him to move as they followed her progress. Indifferent, she’d say, if it weren’t for that grim look of annoyance.
“Sorry to bother you again.”
