This was only the most recent time.
When he’d been burned in the past, he’d told himself he wouldn’t put himself on the line again. But in time, his conscience would butt in where it wasn’t wanted. He’d put himself on the line. Then pay the price. Then tell himself all over again that he’d learned his lesson.
This time he really had learned his lesson. For the final time.
On this cold, overcast Wednesday morning, Luke set his jaw and walked from his parking space toward Furry Tails Animal Rescue Center. A black metal roof topped the dark gray modern building which occupied several acres on the road leading east out of Misty River, Georgia.
He’d waited a long time to be free. In fact, he’d spent all seven years of his incarceration meticulously planning his future. The second he finished his obligation here, he’d move to Montana and build a house with a view of mountains and big sky. From his home office, he’d launch a career in software and website development.
He’d walked through the rooms of his Montana house in his imagination so many times, furnishing every square inch, that those rooms had become more real to him than the rooms of his childhood home. He needed to get to Montana and begin work. His old life had been stripped away, and his new start was the only thing left that mattered to him.
But thanks to his inconvenient sense of honor, he first had to keep his promise to Ed Sutherland. Until he made good on that, he’d be stuck here, in the hometown that reminded him a hundred times a day of the worst thing that had ever happened to him.
He let himself inside the building.
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 of ASPCA Action magazines. 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’ web site, 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 feet 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 could this be 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.”
Though 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.
“When I started Furry Tails, I rescued all kinds of animals near and far,” she said. “But I quickly figured out how important it was to concentrate my mission. Now, we focus on dogs in Rabun County. Specifically abandoned puppies, senior pets who’ve been surrendered by their owners, and dogs with special needs. As you probably noticed, several of the dogs here are pugs.”
He hadn’t noticed, nor cared.
“I’m very involved with pug rescue,” she said.
“I see.”
One of the pugs approached, and she knelt to scratch under his chin. “Hello, Harry, you gorgeous dog. You’re gorgeous, aren’t you? So gorgeous!”
Harry was not gorgeous. And Furry Tails was a lame thing to call a shelter. The pugs’ tails weren’t even very furry. The reminded him of pigs’ tails.
“Do the dogs . . . get along okay?” It couldn’t be a good idea to put a lot of rescue dogs in a yard together, could it?
“We can accommodate sixteen animals here at the shelter. The animals who stay here all have the ability to play nicely with others. We release half of them to the playground at a time. We know from experience that these eight, and the eight who are inside and will have the next turn, get along great.” Harry reached his nose upward to give her better access. Based on Harry’s breathing, it sounded like he suffered from allergies. “The large majority of the dogs in our program don’t stay here.”