asked me once, to teach you some self-defense. We never got around to it.”
“I did ask you that.” It had been after her kidnapping. Jas had seemed uninterested, so she hadn’t pushed it.
He scooted around an old piece of machinery her city-girl eyes had no way to identify, and crouched down, shining the flashlight under it. “Don’t get any closer. Look from here.”
She stopped next to him and gasped at the sight. “Oh my gosh.”
The black-and-brown dog blinked up at them from under the machine. She expected a growl, but instead it thumped its tail. “Where did this beauty come from?”
“No idea, or how it got inside.”
“It’s young.” Katrina took a step forward. It was too dark to see very clearly, but the black-and-brown dog looked maybe a year old, and too skinny.
“I figured you’d kill me if you found out there was a dog on the property and I kept him from you.”
“You know me so well.” Oof. The wrong thing to remind herself of right now, how well he knew her. “How do you know it’s a boy?”
“I don’t.” Jas held out his hand. “It won’t come out. Here, boy. I mean, here, pup. Come here.”
The dog cringed and whimpered. Katrina’s heart melted and she got down on the ground, uncaring about the dirt on her clothes. “Hey, baby. Come here, doodlebug.” She extended her hand and waited, making crooning noises. “Aren’t you so beautiful? You’re the most beautiful puppy I’ve ever seen.”
“Now who’s assuming it’s a girl?”
“I didn’t say she, I said beautiful. Every gender is beautiful,” Katrina said firmly. “Come here, baby.”
After a minute or two, the dog straightened, then inched out, one centimeter at a time, until its block-shaped head stuck out from the machine. “I was making a pie,” she said to the pup. “Do you smell some peaches on me, Doodle? Do you like peaches?” She retreated and the dog followed her. Katrina’s eyes widened as the dog seemed to elongate.
“Holy shit,” Jas murmured. “Katrina, back up. It’s way bigger than I thought it was.”
She did not back up, but she did come to her feet when the dog was out from under the machine. The animal came almost to her waist. “Hello, beauty.”
Jas ducked his head and then straightened. “It’s a girl.”
Katrina stroked the dog’s head. Her eyes were big and sweet in the dim light. “No tags.” She beamed at Jas, her upset fading with every pet.
He grimaced. “Sometimes out here in the country people don’t tag their dogs. We’ll have to ask around with the neighbors to see if anyone’s missing one. Take her to the vet and see if she’s chipped.”
“Doodle must be a stray.”
“Please don’t name her yet.”
“Fine.” She snapped her fingers. “Come on, girl. Let’s go outside, okay?” She continued to keep up running, soothing chatter until the dog was outside with her. There was barely enough light left to examine her properly, but Katrina ran her hands up and down her limbs and body. “She doesn’t look injured. I’ll give her a bath and a dinner. Even if she belongs to someone, they can’t object to that, right?”
“I guess not,” Jas said. “But don’t go falling in love.”
Impossible. She was falling deeper every second. Jas had declared himself out of her romantic reach, but she’d found another kind of love, almost immediately. Surely it was a sign, right? Life rarely made narrative sense, but sometimes it could take something away and give something else right back.
Doodle licked her fingers. Falling. In. Love.
“I’ll call Bikram. He knows the neighbors better than I do at this point.”
She cupped the dog’s face in her hands. “I think she’s definitely part rottweiler.”
“The vet will know.”
“Tomorrow,” she said hastily, unable to look away from the puppy’s soulful brown eyes. “Who knows, her owner may show up tonight to get her.” Please, no. “It’s too late now anyway, the vet’ll be closed.”
“This is farm country. There are after-hours urgent care centers.”
“She’s so hungry and tired. Let’s give her a night of rest before we rush her off somewhere.” Katrina was also hungry and tired and could use a night of rest with her new friend.
Jas moved closer and the dog side-eyed him and gave a warning bark. He stopped.
“Hey,” she scolded the dog. “That’s not nice. That’s our friend.” And only our friend.
“It’s okay. Most animals don’t like me.”
“What? Zeus loves you.”
“Zeus is a cat. How can you tell what’s love and what’s utter disdain?”
She scratched the rottie behind its short ears