The Perfect Match. Kimberly Cates
that big. Maybe you could just tell me what kind he is, because this book is getting real heavy.”
“How about if I show you, instead? Would you like to give Clancy a treat?”
“I don’t know…” Longing filled Charlie’s eyes. She leaned her umbrella against the wall so she could check a watch a scuba diver would envy. She glanced nervously over her shoulder at the street. “Can you show me real fast?”
“You bet. I’ll even mark his picture in your book. That way you can prove to the other kids you were right when you go to school tomorrow.”
That offer clinched the deal. Charlie handed her the book, then took a deep breath. She slipped her hand into Rowena’s as she walked through the door.
Rowena smiled as she led the little girl to the playroom where Clancy was tossing a regulation-size football into the air and trying to catch it. His white teeth flashed, and Rowena felt Charlie’s hand tighten its hold on hers.
“That’s the biggest dog I’ve ever seen.” Charlie swallowed hard, her eyes wide as sunflowers.
“He’s not even full grown yet. You should have seen the first Newfie I rescued. Huey was 200 pounds in his heyday.”
Charlie slid the straps of her backpack down her arms and set the bag on the floor. She stared at the dog, fascinated. “Did Huey ever bite anybody? By mistake? I mean, my head kind of looks like a football.”
“Your head isn’t nearly pointy enough on top,” Rowena said, ruffling the child’s hair. “Besides, you’re far too pretty to be mistaken for that chewed-up mess of a football.”
Green eyes regarded her solemnly. “I’m not pretty. My best friend Hope says she wants the prettiest kitty in the whole wide world for her birthday. People only want the cute ones.”
“People may think they want the cutest one at first. But sometimes I can change the way someone sees the kitty,” Rowena tried to explain. “Make them see the ‘pretty’ in an animal that no one else can see. That’s what I do. I take in animals that other people think are too broken—in their hearts, you know?—for anybody to take home. Then I find somebody to love them.”
Charlie cocked her head to one side. “Doesn’t anybody love him?” She pointed to Clancy.
As a matter of fact, Rowena thought, there were quite a few people who downright hated the poor dog. But Charlie didn’t need to know about how quickly Clancy’s official Whitewater lynch mob was growing.
“Someday, someone besides me will love him,” Rowena said.
“Only if he’s a real good, right? And he never, ever does anything bad again?”
Rowena chuckled. “I certainly hope that’s not how it works or nobody would ever love me at all! I make mistakes all the time. I bet you do, too.”
“Not anymore,” Charlie said soberly. “Except for coming in here when I’m not supposed to.”
“Ah.” A lightbulb went off in Rowena’s head. “So that’s why you never came into the shop before.” For a moment she considered ushering the child out the door. She didn’t need some parent furious because she’d encouraged Charlie’s disobedience. But Charlie seemed so sad, and Clancy’s specialty was making people smile.
Decision made, Rowena gave Charlie a conspiratorial wink. “If this is supposed to be a secret mission we’d better hurry.”
Rowena opened the gate to the playroom. Clancy bounded toward them. “Sit!” Rowena commanded. Clancy dropped like a rock, looking so virtuous she almost laughed aloud. But in spite of the halo Clancy appeared to have fixed over his head, the dog was scooting toward them, ever so surreptitiously, on his butt.
Rowena dug in her jeans pocket for the heartworm medicine she’d tucked in there earlier. Pulling out the packet, she pushed the cube through the foil on the back side of the plastic blister. She put the cube in the little girl’s hand. “Here you go, Charlie.”
Charlie looked from the little block on her hand to a glass jar filled with bone-shaped cookies. She regarded the cube warily. “How come this treat was all wrapped up like that?”
Rowena grinned at the child’s quick intelligence. “I’ll tell you a secret. That’s really Clancy’s heartworm medicine, so he won’t get sick. But it tastes just like a treat.”
“Sure it does.” Charlie grimaced. She bit her bottom lip, her gaze skittering nervously to Rowena’s. “What if he gets mad that I tricked him?”
“He won’t hurt you. I promise,” Rowena urged. “And just think about the story you’ll have to tell Hope tomorrow. I’ll even snap your picture with my camera.” Rowena picked up her old instamatic from the ledge. “It spits the picture out right away. You can take it with you. Would you like that?”
Charlie nodded. “I could hide it in my secret place. That way Daddy would never know I was bad.”
Rowena had had her own share of misadventures as a child, and while she’d dreaded being caught and the punishment that was sure to follow, she’d always been sure she’d be forgiven. There was something darker, deeper in Charlie’s eyes, as if the child was walking on thin ice and waiting to fall through. Thank heavens Charlie’s fascination with the dog ran greater than her fear.
Charlie looked deep into the dog’s eyes then took a step toward him, the cube clutched in her hand. “I know she told you this is a treat, but it’s not,” Charlie said earnestly. “It’s probably going to taste real yucky, but it’ll be good for you.” She uncurled her fingers. “Just close your eyes and swallow it real quick.”
As if he understood every word, Clancy swept the chew into his mouth with one lick of his pink tongue and gulped it down, surprising a laugh out of the solemn child. Rowena snapped the picture, delighted.
“That tickles, huh?” Rowena asked as the dog wagged his giant-sized tail. “He likes you.”
For the first time, the creases in Charlie’s brow vanished, the tightness in her face softened. “I like him, too.”
“Would you like to brush him while I mark that page in your book?”
Charlie nodded. Rowena took the picture the camera spit out and put it aside to develop. She set down her camera and fished a brush out of a basket filled with various grooming supplies on a ledge beside her.
“What kind of dog is he?” Charlie asked, sinking cross-legged onto the floor and starting to brush the dog with long, gentle strokes.
“He’s a Newfoundland,” Rowena said, retrieving the book and leafing through it. “They’re so strong and brave and such great swimmers that they save people drowning in the water.”
“Like taking lifesaving class at the Y?”
“Yeah. But sometimes they can save people even if nobody ever teaches them to. It’s a natural gift.”
“A New Found Land would be a good thing to have if there was a tidal wave.” Charlie stroked the brush through Clancy’s thick black coat. “My watch works underwater. Just in case.”
“In case there’s a tidal wave?” Rowena asked, astonished. “In Illinois?”
“I’m not stupid. I know you can’t have a tidal wave here. But my daddy said he’d take me and my sister to Disney World sometime. There’s an ocean there. It never hurts to be ready, just in case.”
Rowena’s chest squeezed. This poor little mite wasn’t thinking of meeting Cinderella and seeing the castle or going on the rides when she went to Disney World. She was worried about a tidal wave. What had made Charlie so insecure that she was forever thinking of disaster? Did her parents have any idea how scared she was? And what on earth could calm the little girl’s fears?
Charlie put the brush down and rose up on her knees to