Amanda turned and held her breath, bracing herself as she pushed through the building’s glass double doors. Thankfully, the inside of the shelter seemed to have fared much better than the outside. Other than a few buckets placed strategically around the lobby to catch rainwater, things looked generally the same as they had when she’d shown up for her volunteer shift last week. Just damper, although the industrial-sized fan whirring in the corner seemed to be doing its best to dry things out.
“Afternoon, Amanda.” Hans Bennett, the shelter volunteer manning the front desk, waved and called out to her above the hum of the fan.
“Hi, Hans.” She waved back, and as she approached the counter, she spotted a kitten nestled in Hans’s lap.
Of course.
In the epic dogs versus cats question, the older gentleman was firmly on the side of the felines. Since he’d retired and doubled down on his volunteer hours at the shelter, he’d become a virtual hero every kitten season when the shelter was always bursting with frail, furry bodies that needed to be bottle-fed round the clock.
“Who’ve you got there?” she asked, nodding toward the little ginger tabby napping on Hans’s khakis.
“This here’s Lucille Ball.” He grinned and rubbed the tip of his pointer finger along the kitten’s tiny cheek.
“Lucille Ball? Cute. Let me guess—Birdie and Bunny let you name her.” Hans was nothing if not nostalgic for times gone by. He was the president of the Spring Forest Historical Society and had a thorough knowledge of the area’s involvement in the Underground Railroad back during the Civil War. Amanda couldn’t help having a soft spot for him.
“They did. As I’m sure you can tell, they’ve got their hands pretty full at the moment.” He cast a knowing glance at the ceiling.
Amanda followed his gaze and shook her head. “This is bad. Has the insurance company sent anyone out to take a look?”
Hans shrugged. “Not yet.”
That seemed strange. Seven days was a long time. Then again, the storm damage spread to Raleigh and beyond. The area insurance adjusters were probably working overtime. “Let’s hope they get someone out here soon. The shelter can’t go on like this indefinitely. Speaking of which, how’s Tucker? Have you seen him?”
“I have, and he’s as cantankerous as ever.” The older man rolled his eyes, then reached for the phone when it started to ring.
Amanda mouthed see you later as he launched into a conversation with someone who sounded like a potential pet parent. She breathed a little easier as she headed down the long hallway leading toward the kennel area. If Tucker was cranky, he was more than likely fine. If he’d become cuddly overnight, she’d really have something to worry about.
A few more carefully arranged buckets caught dripping water in the kennel area even though it wasn’t even raining outside, which didn’t bode well for whatever was going on in the attic. But Amanda couldn’t help but smile as all but one of the dogs darted to the front of their enclosures to greet her with yips and wagging tails.
“Hi, guys.” She greeted each pup by name until she reached the last kennel on the left, where the one holdout was tucked into a ball in the corner with his eyes closed and his head resting on his paws.
“Hello to you too, Grumpy.” She unlatched the door to Tucker’s enclosure, walked inside and crouched down in front of the stubborn little dog. “You’re not fooling me. I know you’re not asleep. Your paws always twitch when you nap for real.”
As if on cue, Tucker opened one disinterested eye.
Amanda reached into her pocket and pulled out a few crumbles of goat cheese—leftovers from her experimental puff pastry. She held them out in an open palm and whispered, “I brought you a present, but don’t tell the others.”
Tucker’s tiny nose twitched, then his other eye sprang open and he lifted his head. But in true grumpy form, he picked gently at the cheese instead of gulping it down like a normal stray dog would, as if he was doing her a favor by eating it.
“Why you’re my favorite is a mystery I’ll never understand,” Amanda muttered.
Then, much to her irritation, Ryan Carter’s perfectly irritable, perfectly handsome face popped into her consciousness. She sighed. Damn him, and damn his chiseled bone structure.
“You know what they say about women who are attracted to dark and brooding characters, don’t you?” a familiar voice behind her asked.
Amanda scooped Tucker into her arms and turned around to find Birdie Whitaker smiling blithely at her from the other side of the chain-link gate. “Hi, Birdie. And no, I don’t know that they say. But I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”
Of course she was. Birdie never hesitated to speak her mind. “Scientists say it indicates a primal desire to find a strong, virile man who can give you lots of healthy babies.”
Amanda could feel tiny beads of sweat forming on her brow.
“That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.” Beyond crazy. She didn’t have time for even one baby, much less a lot of them. “Besides, Tucker is a dog. Not a man.”
Ryan was a man, though. And whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was definitely attracted to him. But Birdie didn’t need to know that. No one did.
The older woman shrugged. “True, but you’re the only one who seems to appreciate his less-than-sparkling personality. Are you saying you wouldn’t like him if he were a human being?”
She held Tucker a little closer to her heart. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. But he’s not. He’s a dog, and I’m not ready for any children. Or a husband. So something about your scientific study must be flawed.”
“You’re probably right. What do they know? They’re just scientists.” Birdie bit back a smile. “Like Einstein and his ilk.”
Amanda rolled her eyes.
What had gotten into everyone? There hadn’t been this much interest in her nonexistent love life in...well...ever. “People are acting strange. I’m beginning to wonder if the storm blew in more than just the tornado.”
“The tornado was plenty. I think the storm might have rattled everyone.” Birdie looked around and sighed. “It sure rattled this old building.”
It had to be heartbreaking for Birdie to see the shelter in such bad shape. Neither she nor her sister had ever married. Bunny had been engaged once, years ago, but Birdie never talked about her past relationships. Every time the subject came up, she said her heart belonged to the animals at Furever Paws.
Amanda carried Tucker out of the kennel, shut the gate behind her and gave Birdie a hug with her free arm. “It’s going to be okay. As soon as the insurance money comes in, you can get someone out here to do repairs and everything will be as good as new.”
Ever stoic, Birdie nodded. “You’re right. This shelter has been here almost twenty years, and we’ve saved hundreds of animals, from dogs and cats to llamas and goats. It’s going to take more than a tornado to stop us.”
“Exactly.” Amanda nodded. “You and Bunny know I’ll help in any way I can, right?”
“Of course we do, dear.” Birdie’s gaze shifted to the dog in Amanda’s arms. “Are you going to walk that prickly little beast, or do you want to hear more about that scientific study I mentioned?”
“Nice try.” Amanda laughed. “But there’s a patch of grass with Tucker’s name on it outside.”
“See you later, sugar,” Birdie said in her Carolina drawl that Amanda knew so well, but when she smiled it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Amanda