Courting Chloe (Hudson Valley Heroes Book 1) Read Free

Barb and Preston out of the car. Now. He had to get help. He needed help.
    He strained against the steering column, but he couldn’t move.
    Oh, God. Oh, Jesus.
    Help Barb. Help Preston . Please.
    He managed a sound. A choked, hoarse, animal cry. Then the world went mercifully black.
     
     

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Two
     
     
    It was his eyes that got to her. They were a rich chocolate brown, flecked with deep gold. Something about that soulful gaze made Chloe Edmonds stop in her tracks. Step back. Look again.
    He was obviously intelligent. Handsome and well-mannered, too. He silently followed her with his gaze, not begging for her attention. Yet the forlorn wistfulness radiating off him was palpable. Abandonment issues, clearly.
    Chloe turned to the woman standing beside her. “What’s his story?”
    “Him?” Sheila Ward, the shelter manager, consulted her clipboard. “Usual stuff.  Dropped off about a week ago. His family didn’t want him anymore.”
    “Oh? Did they say why?”
    “Yeah.” Sheila rolled her eyes. “They said they decided they wanted a smaller dog.”
    Anger roiled in Chloe’s belly. She took a deep breath and managed to hold onto her temper—but just barely. It wasn’t Shelia’s fault that people were ignorant, self-absorbed idiots who thought dogs could be changed out like shoes, simply disposed of if they no longer suited their needs. He sheds too much, he barks too much, she peed on the rug, chewed on the sofa, I don’t have time to walk her, I can’t afford the vet bill, oops—my daughter’s allergic…
    She’d heard all the excuses, and had no patience with any of them. Of course, she understood that people weren’t always deliberately cruel. Life was full of upheavals. Marriage, divorce, death. Loss of home or job, catastrophic illness. Those could strike anyone, anytime. Sometimes people were simply unable to care for their beloved pet. That was devastating for everyone involved. She got that. But the wanton cruelty of blithely abandoning a living creature? It never failed to set her blood boiling.
    She hunkered down and pressed her palm against the wire cage. “Hey there, handsome.”
    The dog stood and regarded her warily. He shifted his weight from paw to paw. He didn’t come forward to greet her, but neither did he bark aggressively or cower in the back of his pen. So far, so good.
    She glanced up at Sheila. “Can I see his chart?”
    Sheila passed it over. Chloe scanned it with a practiced eye. The dog was young, just eighteen months. Ninety-five pounds. A chocolate lab mix—maybe even a purebred, judging by his size and coat—neutered, all his immunizations up-to-date.
    “Any behavior problems I should know about? Bite history?”
    “Nothing reported, and I haven’t seen any aggression issues.”
    “How about health? Is he on any meds?”
    “Nope.” Sheila looked at the dog and her gaze softened. “This one’s as good as they come. I’d take him myself, if I could.” She sighed. “I’d take them all home, if I could.”
    Chloe smiled. “One more dog and there won’t be any room left in your house for you or your husband.”
    “True.” At sixty, Sheila was more than twice Chloe’s age. She should have been thinking about retirement. Instead, not only did Sheila work full-time at the shelter, she was fostering seven of the shelter’s hard-luck cases, dogs’ whose age or appearance rendered them less desirable for adoption. Everyone wanted a cute, cuddly puppy. The nervous strays, deaf seniors, and mangy mutts were always a hard sell.
    Chloe stood. It was a bright Saturday morning. The air was crisp and fresh with signs of early fall. The sort of day that brought people out and about. As a result, the shelter was mobbed with visitors and volunteers. The atmosphere hovered just this side of controlled chaos.
    “Is the evaluation room available?” she asked.
    Sheila nodded and reached to unlock the kennel door. She swung it open and clipped a lead on