A Daughter's Homecoming. Ginny Aiken

expression spread over his attractive features.

      As he drew out his silence, she prodded. “But...?”

      “When I heard you on the phone, I wondered if he might not respond better to you than to me. He could have hidden in any of the yards I checked, but he might not trust me enough to let me see him, much less catch him. It was easy to see how much he liked you.”

      She smiled, remembering how she’d felt when the little rough tongue had lapped at her hand. “Well, then, what are we waiting for?”

      They set off at a quick pace, giving the vicinity of the shelter another quick search, and arrived at Tony’s a short while later. Dim light from the streetlamp three buildings away mottled the alley. Angular shadows, deep and dark, turned the usually innocuous space into something reminiscent of horror movies. Gabi shuddered, her imagination conjuring scenes from silly films she’d watched as a teen, and which she now wished she hadn’t.

      Mama had been right. They’d led to nightmares, even waking ones.

      Oh, good grief. How crazy could she get? Scared of shadows in the alley.

      As she shook herself to shed the strange mood, she heard rustling near the far end of the alley, daunting in the night.

      She glanced at Zach, who bobbed his chin toward the darker depths. She stepped up to the Dumpster, then dropped down to her knee. “Hey, um—” She looked over her shoulder at her companion. “What do I call him? Did you guys name him?”

      He shook his head. “Didn’t have a chance. We do give our guests temporary names to make things easier for us while they’re at our facility. I can’t stand to call an animal by something so stark and cold as a number. But you only brought him in a few hours ago.”

      “Okay, then.” She scooted closer to the metal trash container, the source of the bad smells that filled the alley, wrinkling her nose as she drew near. “Hey, little guy. I’m back. Did you come to look for me?”

      Nothing.

      She remembered how he’d listened to her chatter earlier that day. She kept up a running conversation, hoping he would respond that way again. “Did you come for the trash? Are you hungry again?”

      Behind her, Zach snorted, more than likely a smothered laugh.

      She chuckled, too. “You did have a feast at the shelter, buddy, so I don’t think you came back for the food. Is this where someone dumped you? Do you have a hidey-hole somewhere out here in the dark?”

      Gabi continued to croon, inching closer to the Dumpster, dreading what she might find instead of a dog. Fat rats a-mocking pranced through her thoughts.

      Then, in the quiet of the night, she heard the faintest of whimpers. It came from the rear corner of the steel container. “Please wait,” she told Zach. “Let me go first. I’ll let you know if I need you.”

      “Sounds good to me.”

      With a prayer on her lips, Gabi set the flashlight on the ground, then crept slowly on hands and knees, quiet and careful. Inches from the corner, she saw the gleam of the dog’s bright eyes.

      “There you are.” To her surprise, he didn’t back away, but neither did he come toward her. He did whine softly.

      She continued her approach. “You can’t stay out here, you know. It’s really not safe.”

      Gabi didn’t want to think about the threats the pup might face in an empty alley. The image of a large tomcat crossed her mind. One of those could do the small escape artist a lot of harm. Some toms got up to as much as twenty-five pounds. She’d be surprised if this terrier mix weighed thirteen.

      She held her hand about an inch away from his nose. “Come on, pal. Let’s get going and get you somewhere safe.”

      That’s when she got a good look at the dog’s situation. It appeared he’d gotten wedged between the Dumpster and the building’s back wall, a solid cement expanse. No wonder he’d whimpered. As much as he loved his freedom, this kind of captivity had to terrify him.

      “I need your help,” she told Zach. “I’m not sure how we’re going to get him out of where he is. Please hand me the flashlight.”

      Although she knew the bright light would blind the dog, it couldn’t be helped. She needed to illuminate the area. Maybe after they had a better view of the whole picture they could come up with a solution.

      Zach handed her the light but didn’t back away. For a moment, Gabi froze. His presence at her back was undeniable. His warmth enveloped her, and his breath wafted past her cheek. He was close, very close. She’d never been so aware of another person before.

      The dog whimpered again.

      “Hang on, buddy.” Gabi swallowed hard as she redirected her attention to the matter at hand. She aimed the flashlight toward the dog. “This might be uncomfortable for a minute, but I can’t help it. Let’s see what we can do for you.”

      With the help of the light, Gabi and Zach soon realized the container leaned at a slender angle away from the wall, wider toward the top than down where the dog was stuck. Gabi handed Zach the light while she eased the little guy to freedom.

      “There!” She sat back on her heels and nuzzled the dog. “You poor thing.” The pleasant scent of cleanliness met her nose. “Oh! You washed him.”

      At her side, Zach chuckled. “He needed it. He was a mess.”

      “And then he got himself into a different kind of mess out here.” She flashed him a smile. “Thanks.”

      He shrugged and smiled back. “I thought your help would improve our chances of catching him, so thank you.” He tipped his head to the side. “Are you sure you really want to surrender him?”

      “He has to go back to the shelter with you.” She blinked hard against the sudden tears stinging her eyes.

      With nothing more to say, they sat in awkward silence, the stray who’d brought them together on Gabi’s lap. Seconds ticked by.

      Her awareness grew.

      Again.

      She met Zach’s gaze. Couldn’t look away.

      What was this...this crackle between them all about? Why him? And why now? Here in Lyndon Point?