Читать книгу A Daughter's Homecoming - Ginny Aiken - Страница 11

Chapter Two

Gabi didn’t get a good look at the man in the shelter until he stood right next to her, a folder tucked under one arm, his intention clear as he reached for her stray. The first thing that drew her attention from the dog to the director, alerting her to his nearness, was his clean, fresh scent. The aftershave he’d used sometime earlier in the day still lingered and offered a spicy hint of woody crispness, a welcome change after she’d spent the past couple of hours smelling a decided...um...lack of freshness.

The shelter director really was attractive. While not an overly tall man, maybe even a hair less than six feet, he still was much bigger than Gabi’s five foot two. The navy blue scrub top he wore lay smooth across a broad chest and wide shoulders, suggesting solid power. His face, not model-handsome, had an outdoorsy bronze glow and exuded strength and character with those rugged lines, a nose with a bump that suggested a long-ago break, and that wide, easy grin. Twin sunbursts of smile creases at his temples bracketed gray eyes, and a shock of streaky dark blond hair brushed his forehead. He didn’t look anything like Gabi would have imagined a man who spent his days indoors caring for homeless animals would look. While she’d naively expected a stereotypical lab tech with dark-rimmed glasses, this man appeared as though he belonged on a ski slope, training for Olympic races, or maybe climbing Mount Rainier, tethered to the rock face by some skinny rope and a handful of flimsy aluminum gadgets. Clearly, the new director didn’t spend all his time inside, bathing dogs and plowing through mountains of paperwork. She wondered what kind of sport appealed to an animal lover.

Or, rather, someone she hoped was an animal lover.

What kind of man would choose this kind of work? What had made him become a shelter director instead of...oh...maybe a Forest Service wildlife biologist? It surprised her to note how this man she’d just met piqued her curiosity.

As her imagination ran amok, his voice rumbled through her. It resonated with a richness that drew her, its calm cadence a welcome invitation to relax. He probably used that comforting approach, that same warm voice to soothe anxious animals.

Then she realized he was waiting. For her response.

Great. She was making a splendid impression, all spaced out like that.

“...don’t you like him?”

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I...ah...got distracted. You were saying?”

His distinctive gray eyes narrowed a fraction. “I wanted to know why you won’t keep the little guy.”

Gabi glanced at the rascal in her arms, the tug on her heart stronger than ever. She rubbed a finger over his head, and he leaned into her touch. The tug grew more insistent. “I wish I could, but I’m only in town to take care of a family matter. My landlord back home has a no-pet, no-exception rule. If I take this guy back to Cleveland with me, we’ll both be homeless.”

He arched a brow. “Cleveland, huh? Pretty far away. And you have family here?”

A family everyone in Lyndon Point knew. Only too well.

The shelter director’s question revealed how new he was to town. All the longtime residents knew her by sight, definitely by the picture her parents kept behind the cash register at Tony’s.

“I grew up here,” she said, “but I left for college in Ohio. Once I finished my degrees, I found a job I love in Cleveland...and so I stayed. But my family is still here.”

“Do you come back frequently?”

A blush crept up Gabi’s cheeks. “Um...well, not as often as my parents would like.”

Again, his brow rose, but he said nothing. He just studied her, and Gabi felt twitchier by the second. She wished she’d taken the time to clean up. Looking—and smelling—like she must by now from cleaning that mess of a kitchen and hugging a stray dog, he had her at a huge disadvantage. Especially since he seemed to be taking her measure, maybe judging her on even the little she’d revealed.

What would he think if he knew how conflicted she felt about life in Lyndon Point—where she was always surrounded by her big, boisterous family and measured by that yardstick? Viewed through that magnifying glass?

Gabi stiffened her spine. She’d made her choices years ago after much consideration. She had nothing to apologize for. Certainly not to some hunk who worked with a bunch of cute unwanted critters.

Just then, the critter in her arms began to wriggle. In less than a nanosecond, he bailed from her clasp. “Hey, you! Get back here.”

The scamp was no fool. He darted between the shelter director’s legs and slipped past the cracked-open door to the building’s inner workings. Gabi took off after him, embarrassment a powerful motivator. She chased her charge—temporary charge—into a large chamber where a cacophony of barks, yips and howls deafened her. She pulled up short.

A pang pierced her heart as she looked around at all the chain-link jails—well, cages, she supposed. Emotions aside, the room was lined on three walls with kennel runs, which were undeniably clean and large, but the residents still rattled the gates with the force of their efforts to escape. Or did they just want to join her, Zach and her foundling for what probably looked to them like a whole lot of hide-and-seek fun?

Oh, get a grip. Both of those thoughts were crazy. She shouldn’t project her feelings, good or bad, onto the dogs. They probably were simply excited by her unexpected presence in the building. And sure, every animal wanted to run free all the time, but it could pose a real danger to a dog out on the streets. At least here at the shelter, these guys were clean and safe.

A few kennels, however, revealed shy, skittish residents huddled in a corner. Her heart went out to them. The rowdy barking was enough to drive her nuts, so she could only imagine how these poor, scared canines felt about the constant racket. Or maybe her oversensitivity to the noise just showed she wasn’t cut out to be a dog owner, after all. Of course! That was it. The little guy she’d found would be better off in a forever home with someone else. She sighed. Somehow that didn’t comfort her much. Her stray had a quite a gift. He’d known just how to worm his way into her heart.

Setting her melancholy aside, she studied the large area, her attention lingering on the various dogs. The shelter population ranged from exquisite examples of the most popular breeds—a couple of retrievers, some shelties and cocker spaniels, a cute Pomeranian, one gorgeous blue-eyed Siberian husky—all the way to a collection of the typical mixed-breeds, whose only claim to fame was the pull they exerted on the viewer’s heart.

Gabi drew in a deep breath and caught the scent of good, strong disinfectant cleaner underlain with a hint of animal musk. The barking continued, the exuberance somewhat tempered but still begging for attention. She felt still another pang. In spite of the satisfactory conditions, these other guys still had no owner to play with and lavish love on them. Yet.

Again, yearning unfurled inside her, a longing for something just beyond her grasp. She was in no position to help these dogs any more than she could help her own stray. Which thought brought her back from her fanciful imaginings to her present dilemma. Where had the little scamp gone?

When she didn’t spot her wayward charge anywhere, Gabi spun around, plunked her fists on her hips and glared at the shelter’s director. “Don’t just stand there...er...” What was his name? “Um...Zeke—”

“It’s Zach.”

To her intense annoyance, she saw the corner of Zach’s mouth twitch as though trying to widen into a smile. Her mortification grew.

She tossed her ponytail back over her shoulder in an effort to regain the dignity she’d lost the moment she stuck her head in the refrigerator back at the restaurant. And...well, a touch of the bravado she lacked, too.

“Okay, Zach. Are you going to stand there and laugh at me, or are you going to help me find your newest—what do you call them? Residents? Guests?”

He glanced at the noisy canines with a gentle smile on his lips. The evidence of his caring touched Gabi.

“They’re our guests.” He set down the manila folder he’d carried since he’d first walked into the shelter’s waiting room and crossed his arms. “But it doesn’t look like yours wants to join the others.”

She shot Zach a rueful smile. “No, it doesn’t. And it won’t make a difference, since I don’t have much choice.”

He turned slowly, his gray eyes scanning the auditorium-sized room. “I know you said you have a lease issue, but what about your parents? Wouldn’t they like to help you out with your new friend? After all, you did say you found him behind their business.”

Gabi winced. “Any other time, I would have taken him home to Papa, but my father had a stroke four weeks ago, and his recovery has been rougher than we ever imagined. Mama’s hands are full taking care of our cranky patient, who has no intention of slowing down, no matter what the doctors say.”

“I’m sorry.”

The warmth in his expression made Gabi’s eyelids sting. She fought back the tears, knowing full well that the moment she let down her guard the floodgates would open, and then even Noah’s rainstorm would pale in comparison. She didn’t want to bawl like a baby in front of the most dynamic man she’d met in years.

“Yeah, me too. Thanks.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s see if we can catch this escape artist so I can get back to work.”

“Work?” Zach dropped down on one knee to check behind a stack of white five-gallon pails near the back of the room. “I thought you said you work in Cleveland.”

“I do, but I’m helping out at Tony’s right now. Mama hasn’t gone in since Papa had the stroke.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “No wonder you looked familiar. That picture in the restaurant is you.” He studied her for a moment, then he smiled. “So you’re the Carlinis’ Gabi. I’ve heard a lot about you. Everyone who meets your parents does.”

The blush shot straight up to her forehead. “I’m sorry they bored you with all that stuff. No matter what, I can’t get them to stop.”

“Don’t apologize.” He stood. “My mom and dad have been gone for six and eight years now, and I miss them every day. I wouldn’t mind being embarrassed by their pride every now and then, if that meant they were still around. You don’t know how lucky you are.”

Gabi braced against the shudder. Oh, yes. She knew.

Sure, she had some issues when it came to her family—fine, fine, more than some. Still, a surge of fear so intense it knotted her stomach, making it hard to breathe, and strong enough to almost bring her to her knees, had struck when Mama had called to tell her about Papa’s stroke. Her knees had remained weak and her icy hands had shivered for hours after the phone call. Gabi had never felt so vulnerable in her life.

Antonio Carlini was gruff and a tease and as Old Country as they came, but he was also a rock, her papa. In a vague, subconscious way, she’d always known her parents were getting older, but her mother’s phone call had made that reality much more real. It had shaken her that day. It still did.

But as much as she loved her folks, there were some things about their boisterous...oh...Italian-ness that made her crazy. That wasn’t anything Zach needed to know. “Thanks—again. Anyway, no sign of the beastlet over there?”

He chuckled as he stood. “None, but let’s not give up yet. He’s pretty small, and we store mountains of supplies back here. He could hide just about anywhere.”

Gabi smiled back. “And we won’t hear an informant ratting on him, will we?”

She peeked into the corner behind a neat stack of sealed tubs of antibacterial products but found no trace of her escapee. Then she heard a rustle and a crunch from the other side of the room, where fifty-pound sacks of kibble lay in a neat stack about ten high, looking much like a store display—supersize, of course.

She turned, grinned, brought a finger to her lips. “Listen.” More crunches. “I found him. Look over there, at your mountain of dog kibble sacks.”

He quirked up one corner of his mouth and pointed toward their left. “You go that way,” he said in an equally quiet voice. “I’ll go to the right. Maybe he’s so hungry he won’t hear us coming.”

Gabi grinned. “The element of surprise.”

“You got it.” Mischief twinkled in the silver-flecked gaze. “On the count of three. One, two, three...go!”

Quickly and quietly Gabi followed his command.

The munching continued. A few feet away, she slowed, matched her steps to Zach’s. The pup’s hunger appeared unabated, his burger meal notwithstanding.

With her bottom lip between her teeth, she stepped closer, hoping the fugitive didn’t make himself sick eating so much so fast. Time to retrieve him, for his own good. She mouthed, Ready?

Zach nodded. “Grab a bag—I will, too. That’ll flush him out.”

They reached at the same time, yanked two sacks of kibble out of the way. The munching stopped with a startled yip. Sharp claws scrabbled against sleek concrete floor after a second of silence. Then the filthy scrap of canine darted out from the right side of the rest of the stacked bags. Zach was ready for him.

“Gotcha!” The shelter director scooped up Gabi’s find, undeterred by the dog’s filthy coat and strong eau de mutt scent, even though his nostrils did twitch.

“I hate to say it, but I do need to get back to Tony’s.” Her gaze stuck to the little dog. She wished she could—

No. She couldn’t let herself think like that. For the umpteenth time, she reminded herself that she was in no position to adopt a stray. “What do we need to do next?”

Zach narrowed his eyes and tightened his lips. But all he said was, “Paperwork. Let me put this guy in his own guest quarters so he doesn’t get away from us again, and then we can take care of the business end of things. You need to know we’re about to have an adoption fair in a week’s time. He’ll be included in it—all the animals in the shelter at that time will be. Are you sure about this?”

Tears stung Gabi’s eyes once again. No, she wasn’t sure. But she had a lease to honor. And she’d built a whole life somewhere else. She was sure of that. But about the dog...

She swallowed. Hard. “I’m sure.”

She hoped.

* * *

“Pretty girl, isn’t she?” Oscar Worley, the shelter’s most faithful volunteer, asked Zach a few minutes after Gabi Carlini had left.

“It’s a he.” Zach held the still-trembling new arrival close to his chest while the sink filled with warm water. “And I don’t know how you can say he’s pretty. Filthy and a ragtag assortment of dog breed parts? Yes. Cute once I wash him? Maybe. Lovable? Of course. But a pretty dog? No way.”

Oscar tsk-tsked. “Never made you out for a fool, Zach. The girl. That girl’s awfully pretty. She always has been a pretty one, with those big brown eyes and all that dark hair, ever since she was a little thing.”

Even though he fought it with all his might, the blush reached up to the roots of Zach’s hair. “Ah...well, I...um...paid attention to the dog. I did have a job to do.”

Oscar laughed. “Fess up, now, boss. I know Gabi and I know you. She’s pretty, you noticed, and it’s perfectly fine if you are drawn to a girl like her. No shame in that, son. None at all.”

To avoid Oscar’s too-keen gaze, Zach turned off the spigot and plopped his new charge into the warm water. “Now that you mention it, okay—” The pup’s yelps gave him cover, so he cut off his response. He turned to the dog but continued to glance at Oscar as he worked.

“A man could do worse, Zach,” the older man said. “Much worse. She’s a terrific young woman—smart, hardworking, with a heart as big as our Puget Sound.” He winked. “And pretty.”

Zach sent his friend a crooked grin. “I think you’ve said it about a dozen times, Oscar. I get your drift. But I’m the last man who’s looking for a ‘pretty’ girl. Not right now, that’s for sure. I’ve got a lot on my plate—too much.” He cleared his throat. “Remember, I’m new around here. Lyndon Point’s counting on me to put the shelter on solid footing, and that’s going to take up just about all of my time. Maybe a couple of years from now I’ll look around for one of these ‘pretty’ girls of yours. Right here in town, too, okay?”

“Just watch out, son.” The older man ran a hand through his thinning white hair. “The good ones, they don’t come around all that often, you know. If a man’s not paying attention, some other smarter fellow will snap up the one who’s walking by. Right out from under your nose.”

A squirt of canine shampoo frothed into gunky brown suds on the dog’s dirty coat. It was going to take multiple tries to get him clean. “That’s why I’m not looking these days. Right now, my situation’s not one that lends itself to dating. I can’t afford the time, so I don’t look. That way, the one that gets snapped up won’t cause me any heartburn. I choose to focus on the dogs. And the cats.”

Oscar reached for the industrial steel bucket on wheels where he’d mixed hot water and the shelter’s pungent antibacterial cleaner, and headed toward the rear section of kennels. “Just make sure you don’t pass up the right one just because you’re still letting what’s over and done with hold you back. Look around you, son. Smell the salt air. Trust God.” He drew a deep breath. “Otherwise, you could wind up filling your days with a bucket and a mop just to get out of an empty, lonely house. Like me.”

Zach sucked in a rough breath. He couldn’t deny the wisdom in his friend’s words, but although Oscar waited for a reply, he didn’t answer. He knew the older man was right to a point, but he wasn’t ready for a relationship. Not yet. His wounds were too raw.

And they hadn’t even been inflicted by a woman.

From his perspective, a romance-gone-wrong had to be easier to overcome. His failure had been greater, went more to the core than a rough breakup ever could. He’d failed in his career, his dream. Ever since the first time he’d helped his mother knead a lump of bread at the family kitchen table, he’d dreamed of owning a restaurant, of becoming a great chef. And he’d achieved it.

For too brief a time.

No eatery, no matter how elegant or welcoming or appealing, and no chef, no matter how creative, competent or caring, could succeed if diners fell ill. As they had at his restaurant.

Salmonella had stolen in on the produce he’d bought from an upscale organic operation, borne by unsterile fertilizer. Meals he’d prepared with those beautiful but invisibly tainted vegetables had sent people to the hospital. He’d endangered their health, their lives. Any of them could have died. It was a burden Zach would bear for the rest of his days.

No. He wasn’t ready to indulge in the frivolous pleasure of dating a pretty girl.

And, regardless of how Oscar saw her, Gabi Carlini was no longer a girl. She was a woman, a beautiful woman who loved dogs, in spite of her lease requirements, and pink, a color he’d always associated with sassy, lighthearted fun.

Did the association match Gabi Carlini, as well?