Hunter had always loved animals, forever bringing home injured birds or lost kittens. Their grandparents never allowed him to keep any of his finds as pets. It wasn’t until after their grandfather died that Grandma had gotten Peanut, her comfort dog. She’d loved that dog and grieved weeks for him when he died. At the time Hope hadn’t appreciated her grandmother’s loss. Peanut was only a dog. Only later did she understand the significance of her grandmother’s pet. With Peanut gone, a giant hole had developed in her life. With Hunter, the last of Hope’s family was gone. The emptiness and loss of connection ate at her. She was alone in the world, so completely alone. Other than her BFF, Tonya, and a few other friends, if she were to disappear no one would know or care. The starkness of that left her feeling vulnerable and lost.
Hope had more than a few questions about what being a volunteer at the shelter would require of her. The one advantage she could think of was what Preston had mentioned: meeting and getting to know members of the community. As an added bonus, it might be exactly what she needed to take her mind off her own losses. Preston had seemed overwhelmed, and it was in her power to help him out. If volunteering at the shelter took up more time than she expected, she would gracefully bow out.
Thinking about Peanut and the comfort he gave their grandmother, Hope decided she could use a bit of comfort herself. No better way than to help these abandoned and lost animals to find their forever home. And that just might help her do the same.
Chapter 2
Hunkering down, Hope stayed a fair distance from the German shepherd inside the containment kennel. Preston had warned her that Shadow, the name given to him at the shelter, was aggressive and hostile toward all who attempted to approach him. Starved and half dead, Shadow had been brought in by Keaton, a friend of Preston’s. Keaton had found Shadow lying by the side of the road, too weak to walk, and with a broken chain around his neck and open sores on his coat, especially around his neck. Even in his deplorable and depleted condition, it’d taken some effort to get Shadow into the truck. The sad story of this poor neglected dog tugged at Hope’s heart. Somehow the chained dog had managed to escape.
“Hello, boy,” Hope said, keeping her voice low and gentle. Stretched out on his mat, Shadow looked back at her with dark, sad eyes. “You’re safe now, and there are people here who will take good care of you and love you.”
Preston approached, and weak as he was, Shadow lifted his head and growled, baring his teeth. His entire demeanor changed, and he struggled to come to his feet, staggering sideways before catching himself on the side of the kennel.
“Easy, boy,” Preston said, in the same calming tone Hope had used earlier. “No one is going to hurt you ever again.” Shadow didn’t appear to believe or trust him, as he continued to growl.
“I don’t know about him,” Preston said, his brow creased with concern.
“What do you mean?”
“Anytime he’s approached, he becomes aggressive.”
“Really? He didn’t with me.” Hope rose from her knees, and Shadow’s gaze followed her before he made a wobbly return to his bed.
“He didn’t?” Preston’s frown was replaced with surprise. “No one has been able to get near him. The only reason Keaton was able to rescue him was because he was too weak to fight.”
“The poor baby. How long has he been here?”
“Since Wednesday.”
“Less than four days.” She counted the days in her head. This was only Hope’s second week of volunteering. Last Saturday she’d planned to spend a couple hours and ended up staying six. She watered and fed the dogs, walked a few, and introduced two dogs to their new families. Seeing these lost and abandoned canines find loving homes had deeply touched her. Both times she’d struggled to hold back tears.
“There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Preston said, glancing toward the other end of the shelter.
“Okay.” Hope’s gaze followed his and spied another one of the volunteers. She’d noticed him earlier; he was hard to miss. He’d briefly looked her way, and when he did, she’d noticed his haunted eyes. He was probably late twenties, early thirties, around her own age. When he walked, she detected a limp. He hadn’t said anything when he’d arrived, and she hadn’t, either. He seemed preoccupied and she didn’t want to intrude.
Preston walked over to the man, who had a dog on a leash. “This is Cade,” he said. “Another volunteer. Cade, meet Hope.”