her peripheral vision as she turned back to lock up the door. Her heart jumped into her throat, and it fluttered there like so many trapped butterflies as she spun quickly to take in her surroundings.
“Hello?”
She listened carefully and heard...nothing, except maybe her own pulse pounding at her temples.
“Is anyone out here?” she called again, reaching into her purse for her pocketknife and cell phone. There was probably nothing to worry about. This was Peach Leaf, after all, where the running crime rate was pretty much zilch. All the same, she was a woman alone in an alley after dark, so it was only smart to be cautious.
Scanning the view once more to make certain she wasn’t about to be attacked, June decided that instead of locking the back door and walking around front to her little car as she usually did, she’d just go through the store.
That was when she heard something again. A quiet rustling, followed by what sounded like a series of soft squeaks. She closed her eyes for just a few seconds, trying to decide whether or not to ignore the sound, knowing the wise thing to do was to walk away. Whatever it was, it was not her problem, and Lord knew she did not need any of those in her life just then.
But then she heard it again, and this time, the soft, sad little cries were like warm fingers squeezing her heart. As the snow began to fall harder, flakes catching in her eyelashes and forming a thin, shawl-like layer on the red fabric of her coat, June released a great sigh and made the decision to investigate. Whatever was making that noise—please don’t let it be a baby of any kind, she thought—did not belong out there in a lonely alley on a freezing winter’s night.
With the garbage bags out of her hands, June now pulled her coat closer around her and closed all four toggles before carefully descending the loading dock steps. A thin layer of ice had already formed, and she had no intention of tumbling down and breaking a bone or two. She pulled her purse strap up from her shoulder and over her head to secure it tightly, then dug out her cell phone, turning on the flashlight app. Its slim, bright beam shot out into the dark, and June crept slowly behind the pizza shop’s garbage bin, the light illuminating nothing but a coating of grimy snow. She stopped and waited a moment, listening for the sound again so she could follow it to its source. Just as she was about to restart her search, she heard it again; this time, it was more distinct.
Placing a palm behind her ear, June tried to zero in on what it was—a kitten, maybe? Something small and helpless and lost? Again, she pleaded that it wouldn’t be a baby. The thought of someone leaving a little one behind their restaurant, especially in this weather, was just...unthinkable.
There it was again, and now she was certain it was some sort of cry. Rolling her eyes upward in a silent prayer, she braced herself and started off in the direction of the noise, continuing as it became louder and louder, which meant she must be close. She was halfway down the alley, almost to the street, when she reached it, hidden in a dark corner behind another garbage bin.
Shining her flashlight into the shadows, June gasped, cold air filling her lungs and what felt like the rest of her body. The hand that wasn’t holding her phone flew to her mouth as she looked into two pairs of big, brown eyes.
Big, brown...puppy eyes.
The squeaking, she now realized, was the heart-wrenching sound of tiny little canine yips, probably calling for their mother.
There, cuddled together in a heap of trash behind another store’s Dumpster, were two itty-bitty bodies coated in black fur, with eight little white, black-spotted boots. But their tiny faces were the clincher. June’s eyes filled with moisture, not from the biting air, as she stared at two pairs of fuzzy black ears, each separated down the middle by a thin line of white fur that traced down into identical white muzzles.
For a full minute, June remained frozen in place, her instinct telling her to rush forward and gather the pups in her arms to warm them up, but she wasn’t yet positive on what was the right thing to do.
On the one hand, the temperatures had probably dropped to below freezing when the sun had disappeared—at least, it sure felt that way—but on the other, well, what if the puppies’ mother returned, looking for them? What if she was around there somewhere and returned to find them gone? But the more pressing question was, of course—what if she didn’t? The little ones couldn’t have been out there for too long; otherwise they’d be...
No, she didn’t want to think about that. Yet...that would certainly be the outcome if she didn’t get the little dogs out of the cold, and quick. She could always check the alley the next day and put up flyers to find out if anyone had seen a female dog wandering around the strip mall or a suspicious person dropping off a little bundle. But for now, if she didn’t get them out of the increasingly cold night air—and the snow that seemed to be falling faster and thicker each minute—they would surely freeze to death. Not much of a choice there.
Having made up her mind, June hurried forward and opened her coat, then picked up the puppies very gently and with extreme care, and tucked them into the front pouch of her Peach Leaf Pizza sweatshirt. She wrapped her coat across her middle, leaving it unfastened so they could breathe, and, head down, turned the corner out of the alley.
The wind was much fiercer without the protection of the buildings, and the several yards to her car seemed more like miles as June trudged through the now-blinding wind and snow in the direction of the front parking lot. Finally, she reached her car and pulled her keys from her purse to unlock the doors. Opening the trunk, she retrieved her gym bag and slammed down the lid, sliding into the backseat as quickly as possible. She pulled the door shut—no easy feat against the wind—and took a deep breath before unzipping the bag. She took out her jogging clothes and shoes, leaving her towel to make a sort of nest. Opening her coat, she removed the little balls of fluff and placed them carefully inside, close against each other for warmth.
“There,” she said. “You guys hang on tight. We’re going for help.”
Satisfied with the answering squeaks, June pulled a seat belt around the bag and fastened it, hoping it would do, and then crawled into the front seat. Thankfully, her old car started after just a couple of tries, and she was able to pull out of the parking lot.
Snow fell in sheets as she made her way onto the main road with her blinkers on full blast, sifting through her memory for any winter-weather driving advice Margaret might have offered over the years, sorry that she hadn’t listened more closely.
Wrapping the fore-and middle fingers of her left hand together for luck as she gripped the wheel with white knuckles, June set off to the only place she could think of that might be able to help her with two very fresh puppies.
Ethan Singh cursed before his father’s absurdly messy monster of a desk. One of these days, he promised himself for the hundredth time, he would have to suck it up and organize the damn thing. One of these days.
But not today. Or tonight, he supposed, strolling from the office and past the empty receptionist’s desk to glance out the front window of his father’s veterinary clinic, only mildly surprised to find a dark sky staring back. It was almost a relief to know that, as soon as he arrived at his parents’ home and ate a quick dinner, it would be past time to head straight to bed.
Straight to bed meant no time to think about what he was doing in Peach Leaf, Texas, for the winter, and more importantly, what he would do when the season was over and it was time to head back to campus in Colorado, where he was scheduled to teach several veterinary
