will be here in a little while,” Taylor muttered.
“Is he your boyfriend?” If so, the poor boy was a glutton for punishment.
“Boyfriend? Eww.” The girl pantomimed sticking her finger down her throat. “Seth is an adult—he’s why we moved here.”
Ah, so he was Taylor’s father. Emily couldn’t believe she called him by his first name. This girl was a handful, and Emily felt for the parents. She imagined that if she’d ever called her dad by his first name, she’d have been in major trouble. That is, if he’d stuck around until she hit her teenage years. Since he’d taken off when she was nine, she could only guess.
“Where are you from?” she asked as they entered the front office.
“San Diego.”
“That’s a big city. Even at the height of tourist season, we only have about seventy thousand residents in Prosperity.” Most of the locals were either ranchers or made their living from the tourists, who flocked to the area in late spring and summer for hiking and fishing. And also to visit Prosperity Falls, which was famous for its beauty and a popular place for marriage proposals and weddings. “When the tourists leave, we drop down to sixty thousand,” she added. “Is Seth a rancher? Is that why you decided to move here?”
“You ask a lot of questions,” Taylor said. “I didn’t get a say in whether I moved or not. Otherwise, I would’ve stayed in San Diego. Seth isn’t a rancher, but he used to live here. His brother has a ranch on the other side of town.”
Interesting. “What’s his profession?”
“He’s a veterinarian.”
“Is he?” Emily didn’t hide her interest. “And his specialty?”
“Large animals.”
“You mean livestock?”
Taylor nodded.
“Does he ever treat dogs?”
“Sometimes. When he was at a ranch the other day, he treated a border collie with worms.” Taylor shrugged. “While I’m waiting for him, I may as well fill out the application.”
Emily handed her a pen. The girl sat down on the old couch that had belonged to Emily’s mother before she’d married Bill, around the time Emily had opened The Wagging Tail.
Taylor pulled earbuds and an iPod from a pocket in her backpack and listened to music while she worked on the application.
While Emily sat at the desk, her thoughts whirled. The girl’s father was a veterinarian. Maybe he’d be interested in volunteering at The Wagging Tail. Of course, if he did agree to help out, Emily would have to let Taylor do her community service here.
She wasn’t thrilled about that, but to bring in a new veterinarian, she could definitely put up with a little attitude.
* * *
SOME FIFTEEN MINUTES after Seth Pettit ended the irritating phone call with Taylor, he parked his pickup in the driveway of The Wagging Tail. She tried his patience in every way, but he was determined to bring her around.
The building, a small two-story structure that looked more like a home than an animal shelter, had a big fenced yard and a couple large dog runs.
Seth didn’t remember a shelter on this side of town. But then, he hadn’t been in Prosperity since just before his eighteenth birthday, some seventeen years ago, when the town had been smaller and less developed.
Back then, he’d been a kid with a huge chip on his shoulder and a penchant for getting into trouble. He’d resented Sly, his big brother, for trying to rein him in, and had all but ignored Dani, their baby sister. One semester short of graduating high school, he’d dropped out instead. Vowing to never return, he’d left Sly and Dani in his dust.
Funny how things changed. Karma was a bitch with sharp claws.
In the almost three weeks since Sly and Taylor had moved here, he’d seen Dani twice and Sly once. The first time the three of them had met after all these years, Seth had dragged Taylor along, Dani had come with her husband, and Sly had brought his wife and two kids. It had been an uncomfortable reunion. Especially with Sly. Dani had quickly forgiven him for staying out of touch all those years. But Sly? Not so much.
Seth’s fault, and he meant to fix the rift he’d caused. With barely enough money to tide him and Taylor over for a few months, he also needed to get his business up and running pretty quick. Otherwise they’d have to move out of the two-story house he rented. He wasn’t about to let that happen. Taylor had been through a lot and had moved enough, and Seth meant to put down roots right here. The house, a run-down three-bedroom, wasn’t exactly top of the line, but it had the potential. Come spring, the landlord planned to sell it. He’d offered Seth first option to purchase, and Seth wanted badly to take him up on it. For Taylor and him, but also to prove to Sly that his screw-up kid brother hadn’t turned out so bad, and could be responsible for someone else. He had about six months to save up the down payment.
Last but not least, he had to figure out how to get Taylor to stop hating him. Piece of cake—and the moon was made of sterling silver.
He headed up the cement walkway to the front door, past a black-and-white The Wagging Tail sign decorated with paw prints. The porch, nothing more than a concrete slab, held a welcome mat, and a hand-lettered sign tacked to the door invited him to come inside.
Seth wiped his feet and did just that.
Taylor was sitting on a sagging couch, with a pen in her hand and her head bent over some papers. Surely not homework. Getting her to do that was harder than pulling a decayed tooth from a bad-tempered bull’s mouth.
She looked up at him and frowned. “I’m not ready to go yet. I need to fill out this application.”
“Hello to you, too,” he said. “You’re too young to apply for a job.”
A look of pure resentment darkened her face. “I told you—it’s for community service.”
There was no point in reminding her that she’d already visited a food bank and a used-clothing collection center and had turned up her nose at both.
But then, she turned up her nose at everything. For some reason, apparently this place was different.
The woman sitting behind the front desk was studying him curiously. She was a real knockout—big eyes, an intriguing mouth and wavy, collar-length blond hair that was tucked behind her ears.
“Hi.” She smiled and stood, tall and long-limbed, and rounded the desk. A hot-pink, feminine blouse framed smallish breasts and hips, and faded jeans showcased long, slender legs. She could’ve been a model.
A three-legged whippet joined her, tail wagging.
“I’m Emily Miles, founder of The Wagging Tail. And this is Susannah.” The woman extended her arm.
“Seth Pettit.”
They shook hands. Except for a few cursory hugs from Dani, it had been a while since Seth had touched a woman,
