Page 35 of Bluebell Promises

“Of course.” Ben knew Nelly was devastated about this. Pudding was her little heartbeat, her best friend.

“I thought of that woman,” Scott said. “The one Mom knew from the old days. Do you think she’d want to take him on a more permanent basis?”

“I’ll have to ask her,” Ben said. “She’s a travel photographer, so it might not be easy.”

Scott’s gaze dropped in disappointment. “Well, maybe you know someone else.”

“I’ll take care of him,” Ben promised. “Pudding will go to a good home.”

“Can you come by and get him today?” Scott asked. “It would be easier if he wasn’t underfoot.”

“Of course.”

Ben left the clinic at six thirty that night, calling Landon on the way to tell him he’d be late for dinner at his place. “I have to pick up Pierre,” he said. “He’s homeless again.”

“Shoot.” Landon sounded worried. “Bring him over after you’re done. Have you talked to Wren about him?”

“Not yet,” Ben said. “I don’t want to force her into a responsibility she doesn’t want.”

Landon was quiet for a moment, as though he wanted to tell Ben something but knew he couldn’t. “Right. Of course. But I think she needs to know,” he said. “See you soon.”

Ben reached Nelly’s place a few minutes later. A woman he didn’t recognize answered the door. “Ah. The vet here for Pudding?” she asked, smiling.

“That’s right,” Ben said.

She led him to the back room, where Nelly sat on an ornate sofa with her dog on her lap. She looked quiet and forlorn. Tears sprang to her eyes as soon as Ben sat down.

“I know it’s for the best,” she said tenderly, stroking poor Pudding’s ear. “He’s given me all the love I’ve needed during these years, but he needs more now. More than I can give.”

“You’re a brilliant pet owner, Nelly,” Ben told her tenderly. “Usually people only think of themselves and their own needs.”

“That’s what I’ve been doing for years!” Nelly said. “But I think it’s finally time I put Pudding first.” She hesitated. “I can’t help but hope that Margaret Harper’s daughter will take him?”

“I need to talk to her about it,” Ben said, lacing his fingers together.

Nelly smiled. “Correct me if I’m wrong. But there’s something between you two, isn’t there?”

Ben was taken aback. “Oh. Um. No. We met only very recently,” he explained.

But Nelly didn’t seem to think this was an issue. “I married my husband after knowing him for less than four months!” she exclaimed. “Sometimes love sticks, and you figure it out as you go along.”

“I don’t think Wren’s in love with me.” Ben laughed. “I’m damaged goods. I was married before. It was a really dramatic and awful time.”

“People get divorced all the time!” Nelly waved him off. “It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t give yourself time and space to move forward! To love again!” She raised a fist into the air.

Ben thought this woman had more joie de vivre in her pinky toe than most people did. It was funny, seeing her like this. He’d met her so recently, shaking so violently at the vet clinic that she couldn’t stand or talk. She’d been on the search for her little dog. Her heart had taken her there.

It was a tearful goodbye. Nelly kissed Pudding’s head and told him to be a “very good dog” wherever he ended up. “The nice vet Ben will make sure you’re all right,” she told Pudding. “Thank you for everything, my sweetie. Don’t forget to write!” She laughed, even as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Ben hooked Pudding-slash-Pierre to a leash and led him into the chilly evening. If he booked it, he would make it to Landon and Celia’s before the rain began. All the way there, Pierre scampered and panted happily, celebrating what was probably his first real walk since he’d gone back to Nelly’s. As the minutes passed, Ben felt more and more like Nelly had done the right thing. But how could he tell Wren about him? And if Wren wouldn’t take him, who would? Ben wasn’t prepared to take on a pet just now. His hours were long, and he had too many other animals to care for.

When he reached Landon’s, Celia flung open the door, bent down, and greeted Pierre with a kiss. “He’s back!” She sang. “Poor little darling, we were worried about you.”

Pierre followed Celia into the kitchen, where Landon sat with a beer and a big bowl of pre-dinner chips and dip. Pierre leaped onto the chair beside Landon as though he already belonged there.

“Very presumptuous.” Celia laughed.

“It’s because he’s French,” Landon joked, reaching over to pet him.