Finally, he raised his eyes and held out the rope. “It looks like you’ve got yourself a dog, Ms. Kensington.”
“What do you mean?” She backed away and rubbed the muddy grains off her hands. “My parents won’t let me have a pet. And I’ll be leaving by September.”
“Well, I can’t have a dog. You did say you’d take him. I believe those were your exact words.”
“I didn’t want Mr. Coughlin to kill Slinky, so I promised.”
“Do you generally promise what you don’t intend to fulfill?” His eyes glittered with gold flecks in the sunlight.
“I, uh.” No one had ever questioned her before. She was Felicity Kensington. She squared her shoulders. “No innocent creature deserves to die, no matter what he’s done. Slinky can be rehabilitated by the right owner, someone who understands dogs, someone who knows how to call them, for instance.” She gazed right into those deep brown eyes and knew he understood. “I don’t suppose…?” She left the sentence hanging.
“No.”
“Just for a while,” she implored. “Until Mr. Coughlin simmers down. Please?”
“What happens then? You’ll turn him loose again?”
“No,” she said hastily. Slinky could never run loose again, or Coughlin would kill him. “I’ll find him a home.”
He hesitated. “The Church Council might not want a dog in the parsonage.”
“The Johannesons had a cat.”
Gabriel rubbed his forehead as Slinky cocked his head and looked at him with big, hopeful eyes. Good boy, Slinky. She felt Gabriel’s resistance break.
“Two months,” he said. “You need to find him a new home within two months.”
“All right.” Perhaps she could convince Robert to bring Slinky with them or find a farmer willing to take him on.
“And you will help train him,” he added.
She swallowed hard. That meant hours working with Gabriel, hours by his side. “Me?”
“You. That point is not negotiable.” He put the rope in her hand. “You can start by bringing him to the parsonage.”
“Now?” Her legs turned to jelly.
“Of course now.”
He took off, leaving her no choice but to follow.
Chapter Five
Gabriel guided her through the woods. “We’ll begin with a bath.”
“A bath?” For one humiliating moment, Felicity thought he meant her.
“I’m not letting that dog into the parsonage without a bath.”
Of course he was talking about Slinky, who, come to mention it, did stink. Gabriel led the way, and the dog trotted along beside her, eager to go wherever they led.
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