Rescue Me Read online

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  More from Andrew Grey

  Readers love Andrew Grey

  About the Author

  By Andrew Grey

  Visit Dreamspinner Press

  Copyright

  Rescue Me

  By Andrew Grey

  Everybody needs to be rescued sometime.

  Veterinarian Mitchell Brannigan gets off to a rocky start with his new neighbor when someone calls the town to complain about the noise. Mitchell runs a shelter for rescue dogs, and dogs bark. But when he goes to make peace, he meets Beau Pfister and his fussy baby daughter, Jessica… and starts to fall in love.

  Beau moved out to the country to get away from his abusive ex-husband, but raising an infant alone, with no support network, is lonely and exhausting. The last thing he expects is a helping hand from the neighbor whose dogs he complained about.

  Mitchell understands what it’s like to live in fear of your ex, and he’s determined to help Beau move on. But when an unseen menace threatens the shelter and Beau, it becomes apparent that he hasn’t dealt with his own demons.

  With each other and a protective Chihuahua for support, Mitchell, Beau, and Jessica could make a perfect family. Mitchell won’t let anything happen to them.

  But who’s going to rescue him?

  For Dominic. He knows why. *grin*

  Chapter 1

  “OKAY GUYS, I’m coming,” Mitchell called as he opened the door to what had once been the low barn of the family farm. Few things made him happier than the barks and cries that started when he slid the door open first thing in the morning. “Everyone is going to get brekkie and no one will be left out, I promise,” he said to calm the rabble, but it had no effect. He slid the door closed, smiled, and opened two of the cages so the dogs could run around his legs as he went to start preparing the food. They jumped around him, tails wagging. Come play with us. Mitchell scratched their heads and got to work, the dogs occupying themselves until he set down the bowls. They both attacked their food, eating and drinking, happy dogs. And Mitchell loved all fifteen of them.

  Once Bowser and Bruno were fed, he let the two young labs out into a play yard and went about feeding the others. Those he could, he put with the labs so they could run and play. The newer arrivals he kept isolated in case of disease. And there were a few, like Jasper, who didn’t get along well with other dogs. He fed him separately but paid him just as much attention as he did the others. These boys and girls were like his family.

  “Knock, knock,” a deep voice said from the doorway.

  “Careful,” Mitchell called back to the stranger. “Don’t let any of them out.” He believed in letting the dogs run and play as much as possible. He scooped up Randi before she could make a break for it. She was a little Chihuahua mix, lightning fast, and loved to try to make a run for it. He soothed her with pets as the door opened slowly and a man of about forty, in tan pants and a blue shirt and carrying a clipboard, stepped inside. He closed the door behind him.

  “Well…,” he said as he looked around. “What have we here?”

  “I need to finish feeding,” Mitchell said. He put a bowl out for the final dog and then put the old St. Bernard into one of the runs so he could either get some exercise or, more likely, take a nap. “What can I help you with?”

  The man sighed. “There’s been a complaint about the barking.”

  “I see. Let me guess—from the people who moved in over there.” He pointed toward the now butter-yellow house on the other side of his. “They moved in two months ago and have called me three times because of the dogs. I’ve been running this shelter here for four years now. I was here first and I’m not going to stop.” He put his hands on his hips.

  “They apparently have a baby and—”

  “Then they should have thought of that before buying the place,” Mitchell interrupted. “I have fifteen dogs—” He stopped. “Maybe you should start by telling me who you are?”

  “Clark Fenner. I’m with codes compliance at Carlisle Borough. We received a complaint about barking, and they claimed that the dogs were left unattended for long hours, that they weren’t being fed properly, and that you had fighting dogs.”

  “Mitchell Brannigan, and my dogs are all well cared for. They’re fed and well exercised. And I have a few former fighting dogs.” He took Clark over to one of the runs. “This is Bosco. He was rescued a few weeks ago from a place in Lancaster. Bosco was injured badly in a dog fight. The police over there raided the place, and one of them called me. I picked him up and brought him here. Bosco is a good dog when people are around, but he’s aggressive with other dogs. I keep him isolated from the others and am working with him. He may never be comfortable around other dogs, but I’m hoping to help him to behave better so he can be adopted out. Right now I’m near the cap of what I can handle, but I have three dogs being adopted out today and two more couples coming in tomorrow.”

  Clark narrowed his gaze. “How do you make money at this?” he asked.

  “I don’t. This is a nonprofit.” Mitchell continued petting Randi; she calmed him down. He had considered adopting her himself. But then, he wanted to do that with all the dogs, and he’d long ago told himself that he needed to keep a distance or else his house would be as full as the shelter. “I’m also a veterinarian, and my practice is a mile up the road. I have regular office hours, and during those times, the dogs are in their cages. I know they bark sometimes, but it’s a fact of life. These dogs are good dogs, and they are cared for. All have their shots, and I would never allow any of my dogs to be abused in any way, least of all used for fighting.”

  Clark’s expression softened. “I see.” He looked around once more. “I wasn’t informed of that.” He peered into some of the cages and then looked out into the yard at the runs where the dogs were playing. “Dang, that one’s a beauty.” He stopped in the doorway.

  “Rex… yeah, he is. His family got him as a pup and thought they could handle taking care of him. He’s a giant schnauzer and weighs about seventy-five pounds.” Mitchell opened the door to the run. “Come here, Rex,” he said gently, and the large black dog approached and nuzzled right in for pets. “He was too much once they had a baby, so I took him.” Clark stroked him. “He’s wonderful and incredibly affectionate. Rex has been with me for almost six months now.”

  “How long do you keep them?” Clark asked.

  Mitchell stared, tensing. “Until they’re adopted. I don’t put dogs down here for any reason other than illness. There is no such thing as a bad dog, just bad pet parents. Rex will be with me until he finds a home. They all will.”

  Rex approached Clark, and soon he sat right next to him as Clark petted and talked to him softly.

  “I have a fenced-in backyard in town, and my wife spends a lot of time alone during the day while I’m working. Would it be okay if I brought her over later to meet Rex here?” He knelt down, and Rex practically put his head on Clark’s shoulder, soaking in the attention.

  Mitchell knew that look, and he turned away, smiling, because he knew Rex had likely found a home. That spark when a dog and person clicked was definitely there.

  “That would be great. Please take some pictures of your yard, and I’ll have some paperwork for you to fill out when you come back, and I can explain the adoption fees. I want to make sure you understand how to care for him. Of course he’s had all his shots,
and I have his records. If you adopt one of my dogs, then I give a discount on all vet care for the rest of the dog’s life.” He was going to be sad to see Rex go, but if it was to a good home, then that was the best thing.

  Clark smiled brightly. “Thank you.” He continued petting Rex, and Mitchell had a pretty good idea that he was falling in love. That sort of thing was a lot easier with dogs than it was with people. Dogs gave love no matter what, and they did it without regard to looks or taste or whether you happened to snore. And dogs certainly had a sense about people… something Mitchell sorely wished he could borrow. His history of relationships left a lot to be desired, and he much preferred the company of animals to that of people. At least he understood their motives.

  “I’ll be back with my wife. I’m sure she’s going to be as taken with him as I am.” Clark took a few pictures and sent them off, and his phone chimed a few seconds later. Clark rolled his eyes and messaged back. “She says she’s wanted a dog for years and was waiting for me to come around. So I guess if you’ll hold him for us, we’ll come around later and get him.”

  “Wonderful,” Mitchell said. He went to the office and pulled out the papers he required, along with a list of supplies he recommended for a dog like Rex. “Here is the information I need filled out. Also a list of supplies and the kind of food he’s on. When you come back, I’ll talk to both of you about his care.” This was a banner day as far as he was concerned. “I take it there’s no problem with the shelter.”

  “None. I’ll address the complaint at the borough and close it as baseless. I would suggest you might want to see if you can talk to your neighbor. Try to get to know them a little. Maybe if they understand what you’re doing, you can patch things up.”

  What Clark said made sense. Mitchell needed to figure out how to smooth things over with his neighbor.

  MITCHELL CLOSED up the clinic and then stopped at the shelter to feed all of the dogs and get them in for the night. As usual, he was greeted with yips, barks, and wagging tails. He started the process for evening feeding as a car pulled into the drive, followed by another, and then a third. Mitchell greeted his visitors and reviewed the care of their new pets with each of them before waving goodbye as three of his dogs found new homes. Once the shelter was quiet again, he finished feeding and brushed Rex so he looked good when Clark and his wife stopped by. He was truly sad to see him go, but the way Rex perked up when he heard Clark’s voice, and then the excitement when his wife saw him, sent a jolt of joy racing through his heart.

  “He’s beautiful.”

  “Isn’t he?” Mitchell said as he led Rex out on a leash. He went right up to her and nuzzled in, and she began petting him like Rex was a long-lost friend.

  “We’ll take him, of course,” she said. “Clark has all the paperwork done, and we have the supplies in the trunk. And because he’s so big, we got him a raised water and food bowl as well as a bunch of toys.” She took the leash, and Rex practically pranced as she walked him around the yard outside the shelter. “Is there anything else we need to do?” she asked brightly.

  “I don’t think so. Not right now. Just make sure he has a bed or he’ll want to sleep on yours, and Rex will take up most of the space.” He smiled, and they nodded. They both shook his hand before they left the shelter. Mitchell watched them go and went back inside, closed up the shelter for the night, and headed out to the house.

  Mitchell figured he could eat once he got back, so he packed up the cookies that one of his patients had brought to the clinic, checked himself in the mirror, and then headed up the street to the neighbors’ for a visit.

  He wasn’t quite sure what to expect. He knew someone was home. He’d seen a man out in the yard a few times, but mostly the place seemed buttoned up and quiet. Still, he strolled along the road and then up the drive and the walk, to the front door, where he knocked softly. He heard movement inside and was about to ring the bell when the door opened and a haggard man in his midthirties, the same as Mitchell, stared at him. A baby wailed on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, did I wake the baby?”

  The man shook his head. His hair was all askew and his brown eyes half-lidded, lips drawn into a line, and his skin a little sallow, like he was too tired to move. Still, he was handsome under all the dishevelment, with a granite jaw and high cheekbones. “No. She’s been fussy all night.” Mitchell held up the plate of cookies, and the man pushed open the door. “Come on in. I hope she’ll wear herself out soon.” He patted her back, and the little thing fussed and sniffled.

  “Is she sick?”

  “I don’t know. She doesn’t have a fever, but she keeps pulling up her legs and cries like crazy. The doctor says she’s losing weight, so I feed her whenever she’s hungry, but the little thing doesn’t have an appetite.” He was clearly worried sick and at his wits’ end. “I’m Beau, by the way. Beau Pfister.”

  “Mitchell Brannigan. I have the farm next to you.” He wasn’t going to hide who he was. That wasn’t the way to start things off with a neighbor.

  “The one with the dogs? How many do you have over there, anyway? I just get her down to sleep and they bark, and she wakes… it’s….”

  “At the moment, twelve. I adopted out three today. I run a shelter out of the old barn. I insulated it and made a good home for them in there. Basically, I rescue the dogs that no one else seems to want and find them good homes. I’m also the vet with the office up the road.”

  The little girl took the opportunity to wail once again and then farted, except she did more than that.

  “Excuse me, I need to change her.” Beau made a stink face. “I’ll be right back. Have a seat if you like.” He raced away.

  Mitchell set the cookies on the table and automatically folded the blankets strewn over one end of the sofa. Then he sat down to wait. At least the baby had stopped fussing.

  “Sorry,” Beau said when he came back, a quiet baby in his arms.

  “No need. I understand. The hard part is that she can’t tell you what’s wrong.” Mitchell understood that. His professional life would be so much easier if he were Dr. Doolittle. “Can I ask what she’s eating?”

  “Formula. Her mother, Amy, is… was my best friend, and she named me Jessica’s guardian in case something happened.” He leaned forward, holding his head in his hands. “How was I supposed to know some drunk driver would hit her on her way home from work?”

  “I’m sorry. How long have you had Jessica?”

  “Just over three weeks, I guess.”

  Mitchell sighed. “Why don’t you show me what you’re feeding her. Was she being breastfed prior to that?”

  Beau hefted himself out of the chair. “No. Amy couldn’t, so Jessica was always on formula, and I got the same kind.” He brought back two containers. One was empty and the other half full. “I kept this one so I’d know what to get.”

  Mitchell saw the issue almost immediately. “This is what she was eating before?” he asked, just to be sure, and Beau nodded. “Then it’s the formula. Get this exact same kind in the orange container. This is lactose-free. I bet little Jessica has a milk sensitivity and the lactose is upsetting her tummy. Does she always have explosive diapers?”

  Beau nodded.

  “That would explain it. Change her formula. I bet her appetite will come back when her tummy doesn’t hurt, and her diaper changes won’t be as messy.”

  “Are you sure?” Beau asked.

  Mitchell shrugged. “I’m not a doctor, I’m a vet. But a lot of what goes into various creatures and people makes a huge difference in their lives and health.” He showed Beau the label. “This is lactose-free, and what you’re using isn’t.”

  Beau sighed. “To tell you the truth, I’d give just about anything for her to sleep for a few hours. Maybe then I could do the dishes or just take a nap.” He yawned and sat back in the chair. Mitchell was afraid Beau was going to drop off to sleep any second.

  “Maybe I should go and let you rest. I just wanted to stop by and say hello.”
He didn’t go into defusing the situation about the dogs. He didn’t want to bring that up.

  “I’m glad you stopped. It’s been nice to talk to someone who can talk back.” Beau half smiled. “And thank you for the cookies. It’s been so long since I ate anything that didn’t come out of the freezer and the microwave, I think I’ve forgotten what real food tastes like.” He opened the door, and Mitchell got set to leave.

  “Then why don’t you and Jessica come over for dinner sometime? My cooking isn’t gourmet, but most people find it edible, and a lot of what I cook I learned from my mother. If you want home cooking, I can manage that.” He smiled.

  “Are you sure?” Beau asked. “A lot of the time, Jessica gets fussy and I need to take care of her. I used to have a lot of friends, but most of them don’t know what to make of me with her, so they call and stuff, but the nights we used to get together have turned into story time, diaper changes, and bottles. Even the ones who had kids, theirs are older now and they have their own lives.” He shrugged. “But if you’re serious, I’d be happy to come to dinner.”

  Mitchell stepped out into the late evening air. The last of the summer light was just fading as he turned toward home. “Stop by tomorrow. I usually get home about six, and I have to feed the dogs. So about seven will work.”

  “I’ll see you then,” Beau said and closed the door.

  Mitchell headed for home, wondering what he was going to make for dinner tomorrow. At least he seemed to have patched things up with his handsome neighbor.

  Chapter 2

  BEAU TOOK advantage of Jessica’s late afternoon nap to finish up the project he’d been struggling with and sent it off to his boss at Dickinson College. He had been developing a new distance-learning program to help students learn to use the college library and do in-depth research. Usually this information was presented to the students in a library-based class, but this would free up staff for other tasks, and the students could learn at their own pace. At least that was the idea. With that project complete, he sat back, smiled, and enjoyed the momentary quiet… until Jessica’s whimpery cries came through the baby monitor.