Driftwood Bay (Hope Harbor #5) - Irene Hannon Page 0,11

he pulled the door open, a crash sounded from the kitchen. Like a chair had tipped over.

“Molly?” He swung around—and a small, wriggly body zipped past his legs.

Blast.

“Toby! Get back here!”

The dog paid him no heed.

After casting one last look at the beagle barreling toward the hedge between his property and Jeannette’s, he raced to the kitchen.

A chair had tipped over—but Molly appeared to be fine.

He grabbed the dog’s leash from the hook by the back door, along with a handful of doggie treats. Hesitated.

Could he leave a five-year-old alone while he chased down the dog?

No.

Swooping Molly up with one arm, he dashed toward the front door as she shrieked and gripped his T-shirt with both fists.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Hold on tight. We’re going to follow Toby.”

He tore out the door, yanked it closed behind him, and sprinted down the driveway.

If he got to the dog fast enough, maybe he could prevent him from creating any more carnage in his neighbor’s garden.

If not?

Jeannette Mason was going to be back on his doorstep.

And she wasn’t going to be smiling.

4

The dog had returned.

As Jeannette watched through the window of the tearoom, Toby charged around the side of the structure and hurtled toward the nearest lavender bed.

So much for Logan West’s promise to keep him on a leash.

Grimacing at the inadvertent pun, she yanked a broom from the closet.

This was not funny.

She might feel a bit sorry for her new neighbor with the sad-looking little girl and rambunctious dog, but she was going to have to pay him another visit and lay down the law.

After all, her business was at stake, and—

“Toby! Get back here!”

Hand on the knob, she paused as Logan West careened into the garden from the direction of her driveway, Molly perched in one arm, a leash clutched in his free hand.

The dog’s floppy ears perked up, and he slid to a stop, dancing in place as Logan dashed toward him.

But once the doctor drew near, the pup took off through the lavender bed, weaving among the plants.

Through the open window, Jeannette had no difficulty hearing the conversation.

“Stay here, Molly. I’m going to catch Toby.” He set the girl down, keeping tabs on the dog that was watching him from the other side of the rectangular plot.

He started around the bed, pulling what appeared to be a doggie treat from his pocket. “Come on, Toby.” He held it out. “See what I have?”

For a moment, it appeared the beagle was willing to be bribed.

Nope.

At the last minute, he bounded to the other side again with a playful yip.

Jeannette set the broom down to watch the antics.

The same scenario replayed twice, with the good doctor getting nowhere.

However . . . the man was trying. Hard. Based on the glint of desperation in his eyes, he’d clearly gotten her keep-your-dog-under-control message.

But she doubted he was going to capture the recalcitrant beagle without some help.

Since the little girl wasn’t a candidate for that job, it seemed she was elected.

Jeannette opened the door, and three sets of eyes swiveled to her as she stepped outside.

Logan sent her an apologetic look. “I’m really sorry about this. I opened the door for a delivery, and he darted out. I’ll have this under control in a minute.”

“It may be easier to round him up if we tag team this.”

His features flattened—as if he was shocked by her offer. “Uh . . . okay.” He glanced around the garden. “Why don’t we approach him from the same direction, back him into that corner?” He motioned toward the terrace behind her adjacent L-shaped house. “Eventually he’ll try to make a break for it, but if we confine him enough, one of us should be able to grab him when he tries to get past.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

She followed his lead, and with a fair amount of maneuvering, they managed to get Toby where they wanted him.

But the beagle was one smart pup.

Once he realized he was being set up, he made his break toward the weakest link in the two-person barricade.

Her.

She lunged for him as he drew close, seized the twenty-plus-pound mass of zooming fur, and promptly lost her balance.

Next thing she knew, she was sitting on her rump, the wriggling dog in her lap.

An instant later, her neighbor was beside her. He clipped the leash on Toby’s collar and lifted him off, then hunkered down beside her, faint parallel lines etched on his forehead. “Are you all right?”

“Fine.”

As she pushed herself to her feet, he took her arm