“Okay. I admit N. L. Spartacus and I had an ulterior motive, getting you over here. And I’ll show you what it is.”
She looked at him blankly. He took her by the hand and led her into the room adjacent to the reception area. At the end in a big wire cage was the yellow Labrador retriever she had seen the previous day. He was lying down when they entered, but thumped his tail in greeting and looked up at them with hopeful eyes. It would have been enough to break Lily’s heart, had she been a dog person. But she wasn’t, she reassured herself firmly. And furthermore, didn’t intend to be.
“Shouldn’t you be talking to his owner?” she demanded crisply. She desperately did not want this to be her problem and she was afraid if she stayed here any longer it might very well be.
Fletcher reported in a flat, matter-of-fact voice, “His owner died four weeks ago. Spartacus—we’ve dubbed him N.L. because he Needs Love—was with the old guy when it happened. His owner was in his nineties and Spartacus stayed with him from the time he had the heart attack until he was found by a neighbor, three days later.”
Lily caught her breath at the horror of the circumstances. “Oh, no.” The poor thing….
“Anyway,” Fletcher continued, his voice a little more gravelly, “Spartacus just went nuts when they tried to take the old guy away. He just wasn’t going to let it happen. So the animal control people were summoned. Spartacus got one whiff of the truck that was going to take him to the pound and knew it wasn’t for him, so he broke loose and ran off.”
Lily pressed a hand to her heart. Her eyes were brimming with tears. “Then what happened?” she asked, the tragedy of the situation almost overwhelming her.
Fletcher shook his head, a brooding look coming into his eyes. “No one really knows. Three days ago, Spartacus showed up again at the house where he used to live, vomiting and so weak he could barely stand. This time the neighbors called my clinic, asked me to treat him. So I got in my pickup and went out to get him.”
Lily looked back at Spartacus. “Needs Love” was certainly appropriate. She had never seen a dog with such a sad and lonely expression. If only he weren’t so big. And strong looking. If only he were a cat. Cats, she knew. And yet he had his own appeal in that handsome big-dog way. His thick short fur was a pale, almost white-gold, and there was a stripe of darker gold down the center of his back that matched the color of his ears. On impulse, Lily hunkered down and reached out to touch him through the wires on the cage. She could feel his ribs sticking out prominently as she stroked his belly. She wondered how he had survived on his own for four weeks. She looked up at Fletcher as Spartacus leaned over to nuzzle the back of her palm affectionately with his black nose. “What was wrong with him?” she asked, still trying like heck not to get emotionally involved here, as his whiskers tickled her skin.
Fletcher shrugged, his emotions as tightly under wraps as hers were on the surface. “My guess is the canine equivalent of severe food poisoning. I think he’d been eating out of garbage cans while he was on the lam and got something particularly nasty, which isn’t surprising in the summer heat. Bacteria grows like wildfire. Anyway, he’s on the mend now, and I’ve got to find a new home for him.” The playful grin was back on Fletcher’s face as their eyes meshed again. “I spoke to him about it this morning and he told me he kind of fancied the pretty blonde who had been in here hassling me yesterday, so I promised N.L. I’d propose pet adoption to you.”
Very funny. And designed to pull on my heartstrings. “He can’t talk,” Lily pointed out.
“Come on.” Fletcher assumed the boldly enthusiastic tone of an aggressive salesperson. “Look at those big brown eyes and tell me you don’t know what he’s thinking.”
That was the problem—Lily did. And it was breaking her heart to admit she was not the person for the job. A dog like Spartacus needed someone knowledgeable in canine care. Telling herself it was for the best, Lily turned away. “Have you talked to his previous neighbors?” she asked.
Frustration tightened the corners of Fletcher’s mouth. “They’re all in their golden years. None of them can handle a three-year-old Labrador retriever who is going to have plenty of energy as soon as he recovers all the way.”
Lily nodded in understanding, even as she forced herself to harden her heart. “I’m sorry about his owner,” she said sincerely.
“So is N.L.” Fletcher knelt down and opened the cage. The Lab struggled to his feet, and clamored out on wobbly legs. Spartacus’s tail wagged, then stopped as he caught the wary expression on Lily’s face.
“But I can’t help you with this, Fletcher,” Lily continued firmly as the Lab sat down in front of them and looked up. “But maybe you could take him,” Lily suggested as Spartacus continued to gaze at them woefully.
“Can’t,” Fletcher said, his attitude every bit as stubbornly resistant as her own. “I live in an apartment. This dog needs a house and a yard.”
Lily crossed her arms in front of her. Spartacus’s well-being aside, she resented the way Fletcher was trying to make this her problem. “Like the one I live in, I suppose,” she said dryly.
Fletcher’s golden-brown eyes gleamed. “It is big.”
“It’s huge.” And way too much for one person, Lily thought. But the property, which had been in her family for generations, had been entrusted to her, so she couldn’t sell it any more than she could get rid of Madsen’s Flower Shoppe. But none of that had anything whatsoever to do with what was going on here. “And I still don’t buy your excuse for not taking him since there are walking trails that lead to the park that start right across the square.” Fletcher could manage if he wanted.
“Only one problem with that,” Fletcher shot back while Spartacus sat patiently at their feet, his head moving back and forth like that of a person watching a tennis game. “When I’m not here at the clinic working, I’m out on ranches and farms, taking care of large animals.”
“So get Spartacus obedience trained to the highest level by your cousin Susan Hart—” who was famous for her work with search-and-rescue dogs “—and take him literally everywhere you go. You’re certainly in a business conducive to it.”
Fletcher rejected her suggestion with the same fervor he attached to her desire to date Carson McRue. “A good vet knows better than to get emotionally attached to his patients.”
“So, adopt Spartacus and get another vet to take care of him,” Lily said.
“N.L. is relying on me to get him well.” Fletcher reached down to pet his head, and was rewarded with a single but heartfelt thump of tail. Fletcher straightened and stepped forward slightly, further invading her space. “Besides, there is no room in my life for a dog,” he told her, looking deep into her eyes, his smile widening once again. “You, on the other hand, could use the company and protection a big handsome dog like Spartacus offers. He’s been through a lot, losing his owner and all. So he’s going to need a lot of TLC, especially for the first few weeks.”
Lily stepped back a pace, putting a necessary distance between them. “Thereby putting the kibosh on my pursuit of Carson McRue?” she volleyed right back.
Fletcher nodded solemnly. “You know what they say. For all worthwhile endeavors, sacrifices must be made.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “You’re shameless. You know that?”
Fletcher grinned but didn’t deny it as the phone rang in the other room. Abruptly sobering, he said, “Look, just stay with him for a few minutes, will you?” Fletcher rushed off to answer it.
Spartacus scooted closer. He looked up at Lily with those big sad eyes, silently beseeching her, and wreaking havoc on her tender heart.
“I really have to go,” Lily called after him. She was not going to do this. She was not….