want poor Chief thinking she was upset with him.
But despite her best efforts, the loud noise had erased the small progress she’d made. Curled in the corner with his nose practically tucked behind his hind leg, the dog refused to respond.
Swallowing her disappointment, but reminding herself that changing behavior took time, she slipped from the room and walked down the long hallway toward the main lobby. Thanks to a recent fund-raiser, the Whitaker sisters had plans to spruce up the small space, including updating the furniture and adding some color to the plain beige walls and a new stain treatment to the concrete floors.
For now, the main bright spot was the small gift shop off to the side where a rainbow of leashes and collars lined the walls in a variety of styles and sizes. The store also offered a selection of bowls and toys and beds. Everything an adopter might need when taking home a new furry friend.
One of the shelter volunteers was working the front desk, phone tucked against her shoulder as she jotted some notes. “I’m sorry, can you say that again?” the girl asked, pressing her free hand against her ear as the high-pitched whine of a saw filled the air.
Mollie pushed one of the glass doors open and stepped out onto the front porch. The scent of freshly cut wood drifted on the midmorning breeze, and she followed the strident, no-nonsense sound of Birdie Whitaker’s voice around the side of the building. The sixtysomething shelter co-owner, dressed in a denim jumpsuit over a long-sleeved blue T-shirt, was known for working twice as hard as most people half her age.
“Is everything okay?” Mollie asked after the woman finished her conversation with the construction foreman.
Birdie shook her head. “I can’t wait for these repairs to be over. I hope the work will start to speed up now that Rebekah’s applied for a grant,” she said, speaking of the shelter’s new director.
The brown roof and dark gray siding weren’t much to look at, but the prominently displayed logo—the silhouette of a dog and a cat within a large heart—spoke to the shelter’s main purpose. And, as always, Birdie focused on what mattered most. “We hope to use that money to expand the kennels so we can house more animals, plus create an outdoor space for the cats and a dog run.”
“The changes are going to be a huge benefit to the shelter,” Mollie agreed. And, more importantly, to the animals. Birdie and Bunny were such amazing advocates for the furry friends in their care—always striving to treat them as potential pets rather than as unwanted strays.
“But now for the reason why I asked you to come to Furever Paws today. What do you think about Chief?”
“He’s such a sweet dog, but he’s so skittish.” After explaining her minor success with the dog and then Chief’s reaction to the noise outside, Mollie asked, “Is there anyone here he’s bonded with?”
If ever a dog needed a foster home, it was Chief. Between the volunteers and a stream of adopters coming through, not to mention the varied mix of other animals, shelters could be stressful. Add in the construction noise, and kennel life had to be terrifying for the poor dog.
“Well,” the older woman mused, “there is someone.” Spotting another volunteer walking up the gravel parking lot with a gorgeous yellow Lab, Birdie said, “Excuse me for one moment.”
After speaking to the young woman, Birdie returned to Mollie’s side. “Come with me. There’s something you should see.”
Leading the way back down the hall toward the visitation room, Birdie stopped at the large viewing window. As she stepped up to the glass, Mollie looked for Chief in his corner, but the dog wasn’t there. Instead, he was sitting in the middle of the room, gazing adoringly at a gorgeous blonde.
“He doesn’t even look like the same dog,” Mollie said, amazed by the change in his demeanor. Though his ears were still back and his head bowed in typical submissive behavior, Chief had stopped shaking. She might have even seen a hint of a tail wag across the linoleum floor. “Who is that in there with him?”
Birdie grinned. “That is Charlie.”
“Charlie.” Mollie took a closer look at the large dog circling the room with her nose pressed to the ground and her tail swishing through the air. “Isn’t she the dog Claire and Matt were considering for his niece before Ellie ended up falling in love with Sparkle?”
Claire Asher, a teacher at the local middle school and fellow volunteer, had recently gotten engaged to her one-time high school sweetheart, Matt Fielding. The two of them had reunited while helping Ellie train Sparkle.
“Yes. Matt’s sister wanted a smaller dog. I’m starting to think that might be just as well, seeing how Chief is so attached to Charlie. Bunny is hoping we can find someone to adopt them as a pair, but with larger dogs, that’s not as likely.”
Adopting them out together would be ideal. So, too, would fostering them as a pair. Not that Mollie had arrived at the shelter with any intention of fostering Chief. She was supposed to be there only to offer her assessment. But hadn’t she known within minutes of meeting the shy dog that the shelter wasn’t the best place for him? As she watched Charlie lower her chest almost to the floor with her tail wagging wildly behind her in a classic play bow, Mollie knew having the happy-go-lucky Lab on her side would make working with Chief much easier.
Mollie sighed. She’d never been able to turn away from a dog in need. She smiled in memory of her first dog, Shadow. Her parents had never allowed animals in the house, so the stray that she and Zeke Harper rescued had ended up living at his house a few doors down. Mollie had spent almost as much time over at the Harpers’ as she had at her own home.
Of course, not all of that had been about spending time with Shadow...
Pushing the thought from her mind, Mollie turned her focus to the shy shepherd. “Chief needs a quieter environment and to spend one-on-one time with a human to get over his fear.”
“So you’ll take them—I mean, him,” Birdie corrected quickly.
But Mollie wasn’t fooled. Knowing it had likely been the older woman’s plan all along, she sighed. “I’ll take them both.”
* * *
Mollie knew she’d made the right decision as soon as she loaded Charlie and Chief into her SUV. Chief balked when she led him toward the back hatch, lowering his head and thrashing against the leash. Mollie had anticipated having to struggle to get the good-sized dog into one of the crates she’d borrowed from the shelter. Charlie, however, sailed over the lowered tailgate and settled right in. Clearly afraid of being left behind, Chief followed suit.
“You’re going to be my right-hand dog, aren’t you, Charlie?” Mollie asked as she left Spring Forest behind and headed toward the rural outskirts north of the small North Carolina town.
Four years ago, when Mollie had been looking for a home of her own, she’d known she wanted a place in the country. Dog training could be on the noisy side, and she hadn’t wanted any next-door neighbors to complain. Plus, she knew she’d need plenty of outdoor space for distance training as well as agility work.
Her tiny house on its large lot was perfect.
She wrinkled her nose a little at the thought. Okay, it was perfect for the dogs. She still had some work to do—maybe even a lot of work to do—before the place would be perfect for her. And she really did have a plan for the needed repairs
