said. Holding the scarf in one hand, she approached the whining dog.
It tried to get to its feet and Harper winced when it fell back on its side with a bone-jarring thud. She crouched beside its prone body and rested a hand on its thin side, squinting as she waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. The dog returned her stare, its body trembling under her palm. When it made no attempt to move, she cautiously moved her hand to scratch behind its ears.
He laid passively, and she scratched his cheek and under his chin. “Steady, boy.”
Moving slowly, she twirled the scarf into a rope and then eased it around his muzzle, wrapping it a couple of times before tying it in a knot. It didn’t matter how friendly the dog was, an injury could make even the sweetest dog bite. Muzzling an injured dog to minimize the risk was one of the first lessons her father had taught her
“Steady, boy,” she repeated before running her hands over its thin sides. The dog whimpered again but made no attempt to get up. Water had soaked into his thick fur and his body was shivering as wildly as hers. She moved her hands down to his back leg and he made a sharp yelp of pain that pierced her heart. He tried to lurch to his feet before sinking back into the rain and mud soaked ditch.
“It’s okay, big guy. It’s okay.” Keeping one hand on the mutt’s flank she sat back on her heels and tried to decide what to do. In the darkness and pouring rain it was impossible to confirm what type of dog it was, but she suspected it was a shepherd or at least a shepherd cross. She could feel every rib with chilling clarity. He was obviously a stray, but even in his emancipated state, he was still much too big for her to carry to her car. She was small but strong and she knew how to handle animals, thanks to working at her father’s vet clinic for years. However, even she could recognize the impossibility of the task in front of her.
“Hold on, buddy. I’m gonna get my phone and call Dad,” she said to the dog.
She stood, pausing when headlights splashed across the road behind her. She squinted at the truck as it stopped in front of her car and the driver climbed out. He jogged over to her, and she stood protectively in front of the dog.
“I just want to help,” he said.
Harper stared up at him in the pouring rain. Even freezing cold and worried about the injured dog, she couldn’t help but notice the lean, hard length of his body or the – sweet baby jeebus – sexiest lips she’d ever seen. There was no way this guy was from Harmony Falls. She wouldn’t ever forget a mouth like that.
Harper! Now is not the time.
She stepped aside, crouching next to the stranger when he kneeled beside the dog and ran his hand over its flank. He made his own murmured reassurances to the dog before running his hand over his hind leg. The dog whined, lifting its head to give them a weary accusing look of pain before dropping it with a squishy sounding thud against the wet ground.
“Did you muzzle the dog?”
Harper nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t want him biting me.”
“Smart. Is it your dog?”
“No. There was an asshole driving like a moron in front of me. I think it hit the dog and then took off. He looks like a stray to me.”
The stranger nodded, as his large hands moved quickly over the rest of the dog’s body, searching for obvious injuries.
The rain had slowed to a light drizzle and Harper jumped when there was a big boom of thunder and the rain became a torrential downpour again. Shivering, water dripping from her nose and her chin, she leaned forward and spoke directly into his ear so that he would hear her over the rain.
“I need you to help me carry him to my car. There’s a vet about ten minutes from here.”
He turned his head and Harper blinked at the closeness of his face to hers. She caught a glimpse of his dark eyes and tanned face before he tilted his head and spoke into her ear. “We’ll take my truck, there’s more room.”
His biceps bulging against his t-shirt, he carefully picked up the stray, cradling it against his chest as he headed toward his