be fine. She’s not an infant that needs watching 24/7. Things will be hectic for a while until I’ve reassured my customers that my physical absence won’t affect my business, but then everything will settle into a predictable routine.”
Avery laughed. “Predictable routine? With a teenager? Good luck with that.”
“She has a point, Reed,” Colt added. “Teenagers give mules stubborn lessons. You’ll have to be a little flexible.”
“Lucky for me I’ve got great negotiation skills.”
“Good thing, because you’ll need them.” Pride cometh before the fall popped into Avery’s mind. With Reed’s attitude, one was sure coming. Not that it was her concern. Needing to steer the conversation to a safer topic, Avery said, “Charger’s leg is better. I changed the dressing. The redness and swelling have subsided, but keep him away from the other horses a while longer. I don’t want the wound getting reopened.”
“How much do I owe you?”
Avery waved her hand through the air, dismissing the question. “Nothing. You didn’t ask me to come by. I did that on my own. It’s the least I can do. By the way, I wanted to remind you Thor is due for his annual shots.”
“Thor?” Reed asked, knowing the shots would fall to him to get done.
“That’s Jess’s dog.” Avery reached into her back pocket, pulled out a business card and handed it to Reed. “Call the office and set up an appointment.”
“When did Jess get a dog?” Reed asked his brother.
“Must’ve been a couple of months after the last time you were here.”
“The fact that you didn’t know Jess has a dog says a lot about your relationship. I bet you’re one of those uncles who sends birthday and Christmas gifts, but can’t bother with anything else. If that’s the case, you’re in for a bumpy ride.” With that, Avery turned and hurried out of the barn. Reed Montgomery was back, and worse yet, he could still make her heart skip a beat.
* * *
WHEN AVERY WALKED INTO the shelter twenty minutes later to a chorus of barking and meows, she still hadn’t regained her emotional balance from seeing Reed. When she’d first spotted him, her palms had grown sweaty. Her heart had raced. All reactions she hadn’t experienced with a man in far too long.
She needed to go on a date with someone. Anyone. What had it been? Six months? Longer? That was her problem. She’d been neglecting her social life.
Like that was something new?
When she found time to date, it seemed no one could hold her interest. Invariably she discovered some irritating habit she couldn’t overlook, or her boyfriend’s future plans conflicted with hers. Whatever the reason, the fun and attraction fizzled out after a few months.
Stop it. Focus on work and quit thinking about Reed and your pathetic love life.
So far the week had been a good one for the shelter. Five dogs, six cats and three horses had been adopted. They’d gotten enough donations to buy animal food to last until the end of the next month. Hopefully the recent events indicated an upward trend.
“Betty Hartman called this morning and said she couldn’t come in,” Emma Jean Donovan, Avery’s volunteer coordinator and right-hand gal, said the minute Avery walked into the front reception area.
“Oh, the joys of working with volunteers.” People thought nothing of canceling at the last minute, not realizing how the shelter relied on them to accomplish many of the daily tasks, chores that had to be done, no matter what.
“Because she wasn’t here, Shirley didn’t have anyone to gossip with, so guess who got an earful?”
“Better you than me, Em.”
“All she could talk about was Reed Montgomery being back in town.”
“So I discovered when I stopped by the Rocking M this morning.”
“You saw him? Are you okay?”
While Em had been two years behind Avery and Reed in school, everyone in town knew about their messy breakup. The news had spread through Estes Park High faster than the flu. “I was barely eighteen when we broke up. I got over him ages ago. So what if he’s back? I don’t care.”
“Oka-a-ay.” Em drew out the word, and tossed her a sly whatever-you-say-though-I-don’t-believe-a-word-of-it grin. “You don’t have to convince me. Is he still hot?”
“He looked sort of silly standing there in the barn wearing dress pants and a pinstriped shirt, but I guess he’s attractive in a California yuppie sort of way.”
Liar. He’d looked better than ever. He’d been a teenager when he left. He was all man now.
“I could get used to California yuppie. If you’re not interested, do you mind if I make a play for him?”
“He probably has a yuppie girlfriend, but if he doesn’t, go for it.” Annoyed with the topic and her internal hell-no reaction to Em’s question, Avery steered the conversation back to shelter business. “Has anything happened that I actually need to know about?”
“We had an abandoned mama dog and her litter dropped off this morning. The pups are about three weeks old.”
So much for the to-do list she’d compiled last night. Avery’s top priority now became examining the latest arrivals and getting them ready for foster care. The commotion at the shelter was too much for a mama and her babies, especially for the five weeks until they could be put up for adoption. “Got any ideas of who can foster the little family?”
“It’s already taken care of. Jenny will pick them up once you give them the all clear.”
“You’re amazing.”
“And on only four hours’ sleep.”
“I heard the band was playing at Halligan’s. How’d the gig go?”
Music and her country-and-western band were Emma’s first loves, with animals a close second. She worked at the shelter to pay her bills, and moonlighted playing at area bars in the hopes that someone would spot her and offer her a record deal.
Emma’s face lit up. “The crowd was small but enthusiastic. My new song went over well.”
“When your record deal comes through, promise me you’ll train someone before you leave me. Not that anyone would do the job as well as you do, but at least then I’ll have a chance for survival.”
“I am one of a kind.” A beaming Emma held out an envelope. “This came by registered mail.”
Avery read the return address. Franklin, Parker and Simmons, attorneys at law in Denver. “Let’s hope it’s good news. Maybe someone left us a bequest in their will.”
She tore open the envelope, pulled out the letter and started reading. The missive indeed dealt with a will—Sam Weston’s. Twenty-five years ago, when Geraldine Griswald had created an animal shelter, her husband and Sam were hunting buddies.
