Page 71 of One Step Sideways

She smiled at me. “They won’t be fully weaned for another three weeks, and I know you have other reasons for visiting, but just so you know.”

I glanced at Danny, who was beaming. “Can you tell us about the mom, as we discussed, please?”

She grinned conspiratorially. “My grandad started breeding hunting dogs nearly forty years ago. He had both the bitch and the sire, and the first litter made them a lot of money. Fast-forward another three years and—this is Bella by the way, she has a fancier breed name, but that’s what we call her. Anyway, Bella’s grandma, to use a human expression, had her second litter and because of the success of the first, it was stolen.”

Pippa chuckled. “I know, sounds a bit like 101 Dalmatians, doesn’t it? All the puppies were found except one and the thieves admitted that one had run when they tried to transfer vehicles. We immediately alerted all the local shelters and vets, as the missing pup was a bitch, one of two microchipped since we intendedto keep them. It was quite a new technology then, and there were only certain places that could read them, but we got a call from a shelter about an hour away called Chasing Tails to say that she’d been surrendered.

My legs gave way, and I stared in astonishment at the dog, so like the one I had desperately wanted to keep all those years ago, and my heart thundered so loudly I thought they would all be able to hear it.

Pippa walked to the dresser and slid out a photograph from behind a clock, then walked back and handed it over. I took it in shaky fingers and stared at the picture of Blackie—my Blackie—looking healthy and happy surrounded by five puppies. “We called her Magic because I couldn’t believe it when the owner told me that a little boy who looked like he needed a few good meals had walked in with her in his arms and said she needed looking after, and they had to promise she would go to a good home. You never gave your name, but Charles Denham who owns the shelter his mother started, has every recorded surrender and dates, and Magic was the only one that a child had ever brought in on his own. When Danny called the shelter, Charles called me.”

I couldn’t speak and looked at Danny helplessly.

“Magic lived until she was sixteen. She was the gentlest mama we ever had, and Bella is from her last litter. This will also be Bella’s last litter because she deserves a happy retirement.”

I stared down at the photo and traced the dog with my finger, almost feeling her warm, snuggly body as I’d walked so many miles that day.

“I know you inquired about service dogs, and we’ve had eleven service dogs from her line over the last twenty-plus years.”

Then Pippa gently took the photo and replaced it with a squirming ball of fluff, and I was too shocked to do anything but immediately tighten my hold to make sure it didn’t fall. “That’s the only girl left, but we have two other boys.”

It—she—immediately lay down and started chewing my thumb. Her tiny teeth barely registered. A phone rang from the kitchen and Pippa hurried to answer it. Danny sat down on the sofa next to me. I looked up at him. “How—” And I tried to swallow. “How do you keep doing this?”

Danny reached over and kissed me. “Because I love you and want you to have every good thing.”

“But a dog?”

He shrugged. “Call it closure. I just brought you here to look. We don’t have to do this.” I narrowed my eyes and scoffed. The pup yawned suddenly and nudged into the crook of my arm and looked like she was going to sleep, and I stroked her tiny back and thought about the puppy from all those years ago. I turned and kissed Danny thoroughly, so thoroughly I could feel my body reacting. Not that there were many times it didn’t around him.

“Okay,” I said. “I think we have to.”

Danny’s smile was nearly blinding. “That’s a quick decision, though. We can always put down a deposit and think about it.”

I shook my head. “We can’t, really.”

“No?” he said, eyes twinkling.

“No,” I sighed, feeling the wet warmth on my leg. “I think she just made her own deposit, so we’ve been claimed.”

“It’s a sign,” he said, trying not to laugh as he took in the spreading stain.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “A sign I need another pair of pants.”

Or maybe just a sign she’d marked her territory. I fully intended on marking my own territory with Danny—and yeah, definitely a different kind of deposit—when we got home.

Good word, that.

Home.