Montana Vet. Ann Roth
had been both with Susannah. As a teen, Emily had never been this sullen, certainly not when she wanted a job.
“I’ve had a lot of interest from high school kids this semester, and I may be full,” she said. Most of them had left any attitude behind and put on their best faces. “But if you’d like to fill out an application, I’ll look it over and get back to you.”
“You don’t want me.”
For one telling moment, Taylor’s shoulders slumped. Then the surly look reappeared and she raised her head.
Emily guessed that she’d been rejected by someone, somewhere. Having been there herself, when her father had walked out of her life, she sympathized. “I didn’t say that,” she replied with a smile. “School started in late August, and here we are a few weeks later. Most of the kids who want to work here applied last week.” She patted the stack of applications on the desk. “I’m in the process of selecting volunteers now.”
“We only moved here a few days before school started. I would’ve come in sooner, but I just found out about this place.”
While it seemed a plausible excuse, Emily wondered if Taylor’s attitude had cost her opportunities at other organizations. Wanting to help the girl, she opened a desk drawer and pulled out a blank application. “There’s still time to apply.” She handed the form over. “Why don’t you fill this out?”
“Whatever.” The girl stuffed the paper into her backpack. “Where are the other dogs?”
“They spent most of the afternoon out back. Now they’re in the kennel—that building over there.” Emily pointed at what had once been a large, detached garage. “Would you like to meet them?”
“Uh, yeah.” Taylor’s snarky tone indicated that this was obvious.
Shaking her head at the girl’s hostility, Emily leashed Susannah, then led Taylor down the concrete walkway. The afternoon sun had barely begun its descent toward the horizon, but already the air was noticeably cooler and felt like autumn. In central Montana, the weather was known to change quickly, and in a matter of hours, the temperature could vary by as much as twenty degrees.
Leaving Susannah tethered outside the kennel, Emily opened the door and gestured for Taylor to enter. Harvey, the architect Emily had met when he’d adopted a mixed-breed female from the shelter, and who she’d started dating soon after, had reconfigured the garage into a perfect space to house the dogs. Six large cages were spread across the clean cement floor, each equipped with a dog bed, and food and water bowls. A sink and tub for bathing the animals filled one corner, and a stainless steel exam table took up another, along with shelves and cabinets laden with towels and supplies. One large, airy window flooded the space with light, and good insulation and a heating and cooling system kept the temperature comfortable no matter what the weather.
“As you can see, we’re currently filled up,” Emily said.
Taylor looked puzzled. “But there are only six dogs here.”
“Unfortunately, right now, this is all I have room for. We also have two quarantine huts for when new dogs come in.”
Another of Harvey’s contributions to the shelter. Emily could actually think about him now without a twinge of the heartbreak she’d suffered when he’d left some fifteen months earlier.
Taylor angled her head and frowned. “Why do you quarantine new dogs?”
“Because they might carry infectious diseases, and we don’t want to expose the other animals.”
A brown-and-white spaniel-terrier mix whined, and Taylor headed forward.
“Wait,” Emily cautioned in a low voice. “He’s been abused and could bite you out of fear. To keep him from feeling threatened, lower your eyes and put your knuckles close to the bars so that he can smell you.”
Taylor looked taken aback, but complied. After much sniffing and studying her, the dog at last licked her hand through the bars.
“He likes me.” She looked pleased. “What’s his name?”
“We don’t usually name them,” Emily explained. “We let the families who adopt them do that.”
She checked her watch. The front office had been empty for some minutes now. “I need to get back to the office, in case the phone rings or someone else comes in.”
Taylor nodded, and they headed back. As they sauntered down the walkway, the girl’s cell phone trilled out bars from some rock song. “If you wanna stick around you gotta cut me some slack,” a male voice twanged.
She glanced at the screen and frowned before answering. “Hey, Seth,” she said in a bored voice. She listened a moment. “No, I ditched the bus. I’m at The Wagging Tail. The. Wagging. Tail,” she repeated, with exaggerated impatience. “It’s a dog shelter?” Another silence. “It’s for community service. I’m supposed to volunteer, remember? Can you pick me up here?” She listened again. “Yeah, I know I was supposed to call.” The irritated breath she blew was loud enough for the person on the other end to hear. “I forgot, okay? Bye.” She disconnected.
Talk about unfriendly. She’d been okay with the dogs, but Emily couldn’t picture her working at the shelter. Not when Emily had the pick of kids she assumed would be easier to work with. Still, it was only fair to look at her application—provided she turned one in.
“Seth will be here in a little while,” Taylor muttered.
“Is he your boyfriend?” If so, the poor boy was a glutton for punishment.
“Boyfriend? Eww.” The girl pantomimed sticking her finger down her throat. “Seth is an adult—he’s why we moved here.”
Ah, so he was Taylor’s father. Emily couldn’t believe she called him by his first name. This girl was a handful, and Emily felt for the parents. She imagined that if she’d ever called her dad by his first name, she’d have been in major trouble. That is, if he’d stuck around until she hit her teenage years. Since he’d taken off when she was nine, she could only guess.
“Where are you from?” she asked as they entered the front office.
“San Diego.”
“That’s a big city. Even at the height of tourist season, we only have about seventy thousand residents in Prosperity.” Most of the locals were either ranchers or made their living from the tourists, who flocked to the area in late spring and summer for hiking and fishing. And also to visit Prosperity Falls, which was famous for its beauty and a popular place for marriage proposals and weddings. “When the tourists leave, we drop down to sixty thousand,” she added. “Is Seth a rancher? Is that why you decided to move here?”
“You ask a lot of questions,” Taylor said. “I didn’t get a say in whether I moved or not. Otherwise, I would’ve stayed in San Diego. Seth isn’t a rancher, but he used to live here. His brother has a ranch on the other side of town.”
Interesting. “What’s his profession?”
“He’s a veterinarian.”
“Is he?” Emily didn’t hide her interest. “And his specialty?”
“Large animals.”
“You mean livestock?”
Taylor nodded.
“Does he ever treat dogs?”
“Sometimes. When he was at a ranch the other day, he treated a border collie with worms.” Taylor shrugged. “While I’m waiting for him, I may as well fill out the application.”
Emily handed her a pen. The girl sat down on the old couch that had belonged to Emily’s mother before she’d married Bill, around the time Emily had opened The Wagging Tail.
Taylor pulled earbuds and an iPod from a pocket in her backpack and listened to music while she worked on the application.