shrugged and headed toward his truck. “Then I guess the buzzards’ll get him.”
Stunned by his callousness, she stared a moment, then ran after him. “But you can’t just leave him here to die!”
He opened his door. “Why not? That’s what you’re planning to do, isn’t it?”
She glanced back at the dog and wrung her hands. “I’m new to Tanner’s Crossing. Even if I didn’t have groceries to worry about, I wouldn’t know where to take him.” She dug her hand in her pocket. “If it’s the money you’re worried about, I’ll help with the expenses.” She thrust a wad of bills at him. “Fifty dollars. It’s all the cash I have with me.”
He hesitated a moment, as if not wanting to bother with the dog, then heaved a sigh and reached behind his seat and pulled out a horse blanket.
“What are you going to do with that?” she asked, following him as he returned to the injured animal.
“Load him into my truck.”
She hovered over the stranger, watching as he eased the blanket beneath the dog and picked it up. The dog let out a low whimper, the movement obviously painful. She ran ahead to open the passenger door of the truck, then stepped aside, giving the man the room he needed to lay the dog on the floorboard.
“You’ll take good care of him, won’t you?” she asked uneasily.
He tucked the blanket around the dog, then closed the door. “I’ll see that he gets the care he needs.”
Nodding, she offered him the money again. “I know it’s not much, but it’ll help with the vet’s fees.”
With his mouth set in a grim line, the man shoved her hand aside and rounded his truck. “Keep your money. Use it to buy yourself a new heart.”
Arriving home fifteen minutes later and still fuming over her encounter with the stranger, Lauren dumped the last grocery sack onto the kitchen counter. “And when I offered him money, he wouldn’t take it,” she said, continuing to relate the incident to Rhena. “He told me to use it to buy myself a new heart! Can you believe the nerve of the guy?”
Rhena plucked a gallon of milk from the sack and headed for the refrigerator. “I don’t know what you’re so upset about. He took the dog, didn’t he?”
“Yes, but—”
“And that’s what you wanted him to do, wasn’t it?”
“Well…yes.”
Rhena set the milk in the refrigerator, then returned to the counter. “So what’s your beef?”
“He was rude! He all but called me callous and heartless.”
“What do you care what he thinks of you?”
“I don’t.”
Rhena pulled canned goods from the sack. “You’re just feeling guilty because you didn’t take the dog yourself.”
“I can’t afford to take in a stray. Even if I could, we don’t have a place to keep it.”
“So you did the next best thing. You found someone else to take the dog.”
Lauren sagged her shoulders miserably. “Why doesn’t that make me feel better?”
“Because you think he won’t take as good care of the dog as you would.”
She grimaced, because Rhena had spoken the truth. “You know me too well.”
“Should. I’ve taken care of you since you were in diapers.”
Lauren scowled, remembering the man’s behavior. “The guy was weird. He wouldn’t look me in the eye. Kept his hat pulled down low, so I couldn’t see his face. He even had on gloves and refused to take them off when he examined the dog for broken bones.”
“Smart man,” Rhena said, with a nod of approval. “No telling what kind of diseases a stray might carry.”
“Weird,” Lauren repeated stubbornly. “Did I mention that he had on a long-sleeved shirt buttoned all the way up to his chin? Considering he had on work gloves, too, I’d say he’s either extremely modest or part of some religious sect that considers exposing flesh a major sin.”
“Maybe he was just trying to protect himself from the sun. People do that, you know. Skin cancer isn’t anything to sneeze at.”
“Why are you so determined to defend this guy?” Lauren asked in frustration.
“Why are you so anxious to hang him?” Rhena returned. “He took the dog, which is what you wanted him to do. You should be grateful.” She waved an impatient hand at the other sacks of groceries. “Now forget about the dang dog and help me put these away. We’ve got work to do, and standing around yapping isn’t going to get it done.”
“How’s the mutt doing?”
Luke glanced up at the sound of his boss’s, Ry Tanner’s, voice, then turned his attention back to the dog and finished spreading the ointment over the line of stitches that trailed down the animal’s leg. “Better. Still got a long way to go, though.”
“He’s in good hands,” Ry said. “You’ve got a gift with animals.”
Frowning, Luke picked up a cloth and began wiping the ointment from his fingers as he stood. “There’re times I wish I didn’t.”
Ry looked at him curiously. “And why is that?”
His frown deepening, Luke gestured to the dog. “I might’ve saved his life, but for what? His chances for survival are slim at best. If he doesn’t end up as road-kill, some rancher is going to shoot him, thinking he’s a danger to his livestock.”
“Strays are a problem for ranchers,” Ry reminded him. “We’ve lost our share of cattle to wild dogs. A rancher’s only defense is to shoot the strays.”
“Who should be shot are the city folks who dump their pets out in the country. Poor animals are just hungry and tryin’ best they know how to survive.”
“I can’t argue that,” Ry said. “But until someone comes up with a solution to the problem, people are going to continue to dump their pets in the country. There’s no way to stop them. There are no fines or regulations outside the city limits. Pet owners know that and take of advantage of it.”
Scowling, Luke screwed the cap back on the tube of ointment and set it on a shelf. “Doesn’t make it right.” He dragged his hands across the seat of his jeans and heaved a sigh. “Was there something special you needed? I’m about to head out. I’m supposed to meet Monty to mend some fencing.”
“As a matter of fact, there’s something I need to discuss with you.” Ry followed Luke from the feed room out into the alleyway of the barn. “A cousin of ours has moved into the old hunting lodge. She’s planning to convert it into some kind of bed and breakfast or something along that line. Never have quite understood what
