“Quinn, what’s going on? Who are you worried will see you?”
The words were barely out when Rae’s attention strayed to the gray house to her right. A beige sedan was parked in the driveway. Past the sedan, a frightfully thin dog paced behind a chain-link fence.
The dog was part terrier, with a pointed snout and sleek haunches that seemed undersized for its long, curling tail. With a start, she recalled her conversation with Quinn when she found him beneath the dreaded tree on the day he’d turned eighteen. The snow spilling from his shoulders. His nervous chatter about the neighbors on the street. Including a bit about a woman who’d left her grumpy husband last year.
The woman left her dog behind.
Indignation broke past Rae’s self-control. “You’re worried Mr. Grouchy Pants will catch you feeding his dog?” The temps were below freezing, the sun dipping below the rooftops.
“His name is Mr. Cox. And, yeah, he’s grumpy.” Quinn rolled his shoulders. He was an edgy bantamweight, scared to enter the ring. “I don’t like tangling with him.”
“No problem. Let me. Giving you a hard time for feeding his dog—I’ll give him a piece of my mind.”
“What?”
A better idea surfaced. A deliciously perfect solution. Yanking the keys from the ignition, she got out.
“Auntie Rae!” Kameko’s wand battered the window.
“Shhh!” Quickly, she unstrapped the child from the car seat. “No talking, bean sprout. We have to be quiet.”
Clueing in to her intentions, Quinn leaped from the car. He darted around the hood.
“Rae, we can’t just walk up the drive and feed Shelby.” He took Kameko’s free hand, his worried gaze landing on the front stoop. “Mr. Cox isn’t usually home this early. If he catches us, he’ll come out. You don’t want to see his temper.”
“Like I care if he has a temper. I have one too. A big one.”
Kameko dropped her voice to a whisper. “You do,” she agreed. Her eyes sparkled. “See? I’m being quiet as mice.”
Quinn patted her head. “Good job.” He leaned toward Rae, his expression surprisingly mature. “Get back in the car. I can’t let you give Mr. Cox a piece of your mind. If he blows his stack, I’ll . . .”
“You’ll what?”
“I’ll have to defend you.”
A gallant impulse, and she nearly laughed. Which would injure Quinn’s budding manhood, so she composed herself instead.
“I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t need your help. I’m not scared of your grumpy neighbor.” A more upsetting thought intruded. “If he’s home, why isn’t the dog inside? Who leaves a dog outside in February?”
Despair slumped Quinn’s shoulders. “Mr. Grumpy Pants.”
“Well, that settles it.”
“Settles what?”
“Whether I’m in the mood to be a Good Samaritan or a horse thief. Ride on, cowboy.” She thrust out her hand. “Give me the bag. I’ll feed the dog. Her name is Shelby?”
“Yes, and I’ll feed her.”
When they walked up the driveway, Shelby yipped. A small, soft noise—the dog was edgier than Quinn. Tail wagging, she trotted closer to the fence.
Quinn opened the plastic bag. Crouching down, he went nose-to-nose with the mutt. A private greeting between man and dog, and the way he steered his kibble-laden fingers through the chain link was heartbreaking and sweet, the patient endeavor of a loyal friend. Shelby gobbled up every crumb. Mud flecked the dog’s fur; she was shivering from the cold.
Rae took a gander at the fenced-in backyard. It was depressingly empty. No shrubs, no trees. There wasn’t a doghouse for shelter. A water bowl hugged the fence, a glazing of ice on top.
Her temper flared. “Saddle up, cowpokes. We’re doing this.”
Quinn looked up. “What are we doing?”
Ignoring the query, she released Kameko’s hand. Stepping back, she studied the fence. Five feet tall or thereabouts. I’ve got this.
“I’m going over,” she informed him. “Let’s call this a rescue operation.”
Rae carried more pounds than she liked, but she was strong. Luckily, she also preferred sensible flats. With ease she climbed over, dropping down on the other side. The obedient dog sat at attention, her tail thumping the ground.
Quinn palmed his forehead. “I’m not sure if you’re crazy, or you’ve just become my personal hero.”
“I vote for the latter.” She reached out to him. “Let’s wrap this up. Give me the bag.”