Under Her Wing Read online

  “It’s Lula.”

  Kassandra squeezed the phone. Her blood suddenly felt hot, and she put the car in reverse and began driving from the parking lot. Lula was her little terrier mix, her baby, her child. She hated leaving her home alone while she went to work, but up until now it had worked out okay. Lula was safe. She should be safe.

  “Is she okay?” Please, God, let her be okay.

  “Somebody broke into your back gate and then into your back door. I went inside to see if Lula is okay, but I can’t find her.”

  Kassandra pulled onto the busy street and sped toward the freeway. “She’s gone?” Tears nipped at her throat as her heart raced. Please, God, no. She’s so little, so innocent, so timid.

  “Harry just came home and said he spotted her out by the field across the road. He tried to get her, but she ran from him. He’s going to go look again. I can’t because I’m waiting for the police. I can’t tell you how much they took. It’s a mess.”

  “I don’t care about that,” she said. “I’m just worried about Lula.” Lula was a rescue, and though she’d come a long way as far as overcoming her fears, she was still afraid of strangers. It was unlikely she would come to anyone, even if they were trying to help. “I’m on my way.”

  She ended the call and accelerated onto the freeway. Tears ran down her face, hot, wet, frustrating. She wiped them away, trying to be strong. She had to think, had to focus. Lula needed her.

  She’d adopted her three years ago from the Humane Society after her dachshund passed away. She really hadn’t thought about getting another dog so soon, but her friends encouraged her to go, just to see if any dog grabbed her heart. She’d walked up and down the aisles, dogs yipping and barking in their pens. Most had been large dogs, too big for life in a two-bedroom condo. But then, at the very last kennel, she’d seen Lula, curled in a ball, trembling with fear. Kassandra’s heart had bled for her right away, and she’d asked to see her. The volunteer had put on gloves, taken her out, and brought them into a small room. She’d handed Lula to her, and that had sealed the deal. Lula had curled up on her, lightly kissed her chin, and wagged her little tail. She hoped she’d be able to get some of those kisses again soon.

  Kassandra pulled off at her exit and sped toward home. Lula was a great little dog and she wasn’t about to lose her.

  Instead of turning down her street, she drove straight to the field where Harry had said he’d seen her. She parked along the curb, killed the engine, and threw open the door. Harry was nearby in the desert field and he trotted over, meeting her halfway.

  “I don’t see her now,” he breathed, squinting into the sun. “Last time I saw her was there.” He pointed to the brick fencing of the homes built next to the field. “She was walking along there, headed farther in. I called her and she turned back, but she wouldn’t come to me. So I ran home, got some treats and a leash, and came back out. I thought maybe she’d still be here.”

  Kassandra scanned the large desert field, looking for anything white. Her heart sank when she saw nothing but desert. Harry looked with her, and she could tell he felt bad. She placed a hand on his shoulder and thanked him for trying.

  “I’m going to go search the streets,” she said, hurrying back to her vehicle. She climbed in and headed down the street next to the field. She drove slowly, eyes keen. She did the same on the next street and the next. And then she came upon the golf course. She stopped her car, her body filling with dread. If Lula was exploring the golf course, there’s no telling where she’d end up.

  Her phone rang as she pulled away, feeling helpless.

  “Kassandra, the police are here,” Lauren said. “Are you close to home?”

  She drove home slowly, not wanting to face what lay ahead. Her home had been broken into and Lula was gone. What was she going to do? She pulled into her parking space and sat for a moment. Her body wanted to cry, but she wouldn’t let herself lose control. Not yet. There was too much to do.

  She stared at the police cruiser parked next to her and said a silent prayer, not for herself or for her home, but for Lula.

  Chapter Two

  Jayden Beaumont loved to hear a dog bark with excitement. A good, strong bark of enthusiasm meant health and vigor, a thirst for life, an insatiable curiosity. Barks like those were music to her ears. She could hear them well before she approached the kennels, and she smiled. The August day was hot, beautiful, and alive with sunshine. Her dogs were thriving and safe and she…well, she felt damn good.

  She opened the door to the air-conditioned kennels and whistled a hello to dog after dog as she walked. Each and every one was special to her, some of them rescued from the streets by her personally. She took them in, nurtured them, kept them safe, and then adopted them out to forever families. She’d saved hundreds of dogs over the years, and her mission was far from complete. There were hundreds more out there who needed a safe place. And as long as she was breathing, she’d be there for them.

  She broke out in song, bellowing loudly as she often did when walking the kennels. The dogs often howled with her, loving the old Sinatra songs more than she did. She sang as she moved, spreading her arms wide, encouraging the dogs to chime in. Over her handheld radio she heard the voices start.

  “Oh God, Beaumont’s singing again.”

  “Make it stop!”

  “I wish the howling would drown her out.”

  She smiled, finished the song, took a bow, and stopped at the last kennel.

  A border collie mix she called Cooper lay in his bed with his ears back.

  She unlatched the door and stepped inside. “Hey, Coop, did you like the song? I sang that one just for you.”

  She knelt and held out a treat. He came to her cautiously, tail wagging. A few of the dogs next to them still howled, but Cooper seemed okay. She was trying to get him used to noise and people. “Good boy,” she said as he took the treat and licked her hand. She gave him a scratch just under his ear and he kissed her face. “That’s a good boy, Coop.”

  He’d come a long way in the two weeks she’d had him. She’d found him on a destroy list at another shelter. They’d said he was too fearful to rehabilitate. She’d gone to meet him and was moved right away by his beauty. He was tricolored, black, white, and brown, with one blue eye. His history had been unknown and Jayden suspected he’d been mistreated. So she’d sat in his kennel for an hour and waited him out. Eventually, he’d relaxed and lain down. She’d spoken softly to him, and every once in a while, moved a little closer. She’d pulled a liver treat from her pocket and tossed it to him. He’d eaten it right away. And over the course of another hour, she’d placed more treats in front of him, encouraging him to come closer. When he finally took a treat from her hand and then licked her fingers, she’d slipped the leash on him and eased him out of the kennel with more treats. She’d taken him home to her no kill shelter, and she’d worked with him a couple of hours every day since then.

  Cooper licked her face again and she clipped on the leash. She rose carefully, encouraging him with light words. His body relaxed and he wagged his tail as she opened the door and exited. He followed on her heels closely as they headed outside.

  The afternoon sun was still bright, and she knew in the August heat they wouldn’t be able to stay outside for very long. She opened the gate to one of the fenced-in grass lots and let him loose. He flew off the leash and sprinted down to the end, grabbed his favorite tennis ball, and sprinted back.

  Jayden laughed, remembering how when he’d first arrived he’d been skittish outdoors, uncomfortable leaving her side. Now he was relaxing enough to play, and it warmed her heart.

  “Drop it,” she said, grinning. Cooper sat and dropped the ball. Then he stuck his rear in the air and wagged his tail, anticipating.

  “Ask for it. Ask for it, Cooper!” He barked and she threw the ball as hard as she could. Cooper tore off after it, clawing up grass as he ran.

  “He’s come a long way.”

  Jayden turned as one of
her teen staff members entered the lot. Gus was seventeen and nearly six foot five. With a genuine smile and dark hair like hers that often fell over his eyes, he was a lady-killer. Like Cooper, he’d come a long way as well since she’d first met him at fourteen. He’d been in a bad car accident, one that he caused on a joyride. He’d done a stint in juvie and still had the yearning for trouble, so his PO had recommended him to Jayden.

  “He reminds me of you,” Jayden said, once again tossing the ball for Cooper.

  “Me?” He sank his hands in his pockets and looked sheepish.

  “Yeah, you know, good-looking, lots of energy, a little afraid at first.”

  “I have never been afraid.”

  Jayden scoffed. “Yes, you have. Remember how timid you were your first few weeks? Scared to death of us and of returning to juvie?”

  He kicked the grass with his black Chucks.

  “Maybe. It was mostly about juvie.”

  “Uh-huh. Tough guy.” She grinned. Gus was one of ten troubled teens on her staff. She believed in rehabilitation, having once been a teen in trouble herself.

  She rubbed Cooper vigorously and threw the ball for him again. Voices came from behind, and she turned to see a blond boy, about ten or eleven years old, walking with what appeared to be his mother. Faith, another one of Jayden’s teen staff members, was showing them around.

  “Mom, look!” the boy said, running up to the fence. He pointed to Cooper and bounced on his feet. “I like this one.”

  Jayden crossed to him, Cooper trotting up behind her. “You like Cooper?”

  “Yeah, he’s great. I like the way he looks and how fast he runs. Mom, can I have him?”

  His mother offered a gentle smile. “He’s wonderful, John, but we haven’t seen any of the others yet.”

  Jayden gave the same commands again to Cooper. He followed and then took off after the ball once again.

  “He’s smart!” John said. “See, Mom?”

  “Cooper’s not quite ready for adoption yet,” Jayden said. “He needs to be socialized more. He’s very shy.”

  John didn’t falter and his eyes didn’t leave Cooper. “How long?”

  “A few more weeks.”

  “I can wait,” John said. “Can you hold him for us?”

  “John, let’s go look at the other dogs.”

  “I don’t want to. I want him.”

  Jayden called Cooper and clipped on his leash. “Tell you what,” she said, looking at John. “Let’s take a walk through the kennels so you can see the other dogs. Then, if you still want Cooper, we’ll go sit down and talk about it.”

  John seemed to think for a moment. He nodded. “Okay.”

  Jayden smiled. “Great, follow me.” She and Cooper left the lot and led the way to the kennels. John ran to walk next to her, his eyes still trained on Cooper who walked at her heels. Faith and Gus headed for the front office to help other guests.

  “Can I pet him?”

  “Not yet.” The dogs began barking before they entered. “It gets kind of loud,” she said as she opened the door. “Really loud.”

  John plugged his ears as they stepped inside. Cooper’s ears went back and his tail lowered. He didn’t like the kennels. Jayden called out to the dogs and turned to John and his mother. “Each one of these dogs has been vet checked, vaccinated, and spayed or neutered. All of them are friendly, loving animals just looking for a good home and wonderful new life.”

  They began walking past individual kennels, looking at each dog. “Where do you get them?” John’s mother asked.

  “It varies,” Jayden said. “Some are found on the street or in the desert. Others we get from animal control. We also get some from vet clinics and some are surrendered by owners. Cooper here, I got from another kennel. He was about to be put down.”

  “Really?” John said.

  “Why?” his mother asked.

  “He’s fearful.” Jayden led them down another aisle. “He’s already come a long way. A few more weeks and he’ll be okay. If he’s not, then he stays on with me.”

  “You keep some of the dogs?”

  “If need be. All eventually find the right home. But some I’ve kept for years, waiting for the right family. I call them my own.”

  “How many dogs do you have?” John asked.

  “Seven of my own. And sometimes over fifty in the kennels.”

  John turned to his mother. “Can I have seven, Mom?”

  She laughed. “Um, no.”

  John continued to look at the dogs as they walked up and down the aisles. He saw a couple that he commented on, but mostly he kept his eyes on Cooper.

  When they reached the end, Jayden stopped at the door. He spoke before she could ask.

  “I still want Cooper.”

  Jayden liked his determination. The first dog she’d brought home as a kid was due to her determination. His mother, though, sighed. She looked to Jayden and then to John and then back to Jayden.

  “Are you serious about letting John have him?”

  Jayden walked them through another door and into the front office. The quiet was welcome, even if it was disturbed by ringing phones and busy voices.

  Jayden rounded her desk, encouraged Cooper to lie on a dog bed next to her, and then motioned for mother and son to sit.

  “Please,” she said as she too sat. She got right to the point. “Cooper is a special dog. He’s very intelligent, very energetic, and he’s still a little afraid. We need to work on this before I consider him okay for adoption. He should be fine in a few weeks, but if he isn’t, I’ll have to keep him here.”

  “So I might not get him?” John asked.

  “Right. But in the meantime, if you really want him, you can actually help.”

  “I can?”

  “You can help socialize him. Spend time with him, let him get to trust you, play with him, take him on walks. What do you say?”

  He grinned from ear to ear. “I say yes!”

  His mother still looked unconvinced. “Has this dog ever bitten anyone?”

  Jayden opened a drawer and thumbed through some files. When she found Cooper’s, she handed it over. “To my knowledge, no. He was found in the desert, starved and filthy. He ran from everyone trying to help him. When he was finally caught, he didn’t growl or snap. He just cowered. The shelter I got him from said the same. He’s never snapped or shown any aggression no matter how frightened he is. And John will always be in my presence.”

  She exhaled and appeared to relax a little. John smiled. “Can I pet him now?”

  Jayden stood, rounded the desk, and picked up Cooper’s leash. He stood and turned.

  “Stay right there but relax your hands. Let them fall to your sides.”

  John did and Jayden moved closer, encouraging Cooper with soft words. She reached out and handed John a liver treat and told him to call the dog softly.

  “Here, Cooper. Come here, boy.”

  Jayden moved closer and knelt next to John. Cooper came slowly, lying down and crawling up to Jayden. Jayden tapped John’s hand and Cooper sniffed it. John opened his hand and Cooper took the treat.

  “Good boy,” Jayden said, rewarding him with gentle strokes. “Now, offer him your hand, let him smell you again.”

  John did and Cooper licked him. He inched closer. John sat very still, letting Cooper get comfortable.

  “Good job, John.” She placed another treat in his hand and Cooper took it. John praised him, and again Cooper licked his hand. This time, though, he nudged him a bit and Jayden smiled.

  “He wants you to pet him.”

  “Really?”

  “Go ahead.” She took his hand and placed it along his neck. “Very softly.”

  John stroked him gently and cooed at him with kind words. He was very good with Cooper, very calm, and Jayden was impressed.

  “Can you come back next week?” she asked, looking to Mom.

  “Can I, Mom?”

  “I suppose.”

  John smiled.
Jayden patted him on the back. “Okay, call me first, make sure I’m here.” She handed him her card. “See you then.”

  John and his mother stood, shook her hand, and walked out. John called good-bye to Cooper from the door just before pushing out into the sun.

  “Cute kid,” said Allie, her friend and colleague for over ten years. “Think he’ll be back?”

  Jayden returned to her chair and Cooper to his bed. “If his mom lets him, he’ll be here.”

  Allie began organizing a stack of files on her desk. For the moment, it was quiet. No families, no phone calls. Jayden knew it wouldn’t last long.

  “You have four messages,” Allie said. “They’re on your desk.”

  “Only four?” She usually had eight or more.

  Allie gave her a grunt. “You’re lucky I take care of most it for you.”

  “Love you, Allstar.” Jayden grinned at her. She called her Allstar because she was priceless around the Angel’s Wings kennel. Life would not continue without Allie.

  Jayden looked over her messages. Two were from another kennel. They had two dogs for her because they were now full. One message was from one of her vets who’d just performed surgery on a dog that had been hit by a car. She wanted to know if Jayden would take her. The last message was from a woman who had recently adopted a pet. She worked for a local news station and she wanted to do a story on Angel’s Wings.

  “Did you see that message from the news channel lady?” Allie asked.

  “I did.” Public attention was great, but it was also strenuous. Attention brought in more people, and some of those people weren’t ready for a dog, but they just didn’t know it yet. Jayden, unfortunately, had to be the one to tell them. She saw all her dogs all the way through, and that meant interviewing and going to the home to check it out before each and every adoption. And she’d seen more than a few homes that weren’t dog appropriate.

  “She’s anxious to come by,” Allie said. “Said she was really impressed with us.”

  Jayden picked up the phone to return the calls. Normally, she had to return calls on the fly because she was so busy, but for the moment she had some time. They’d adopted out four dogs so far for the day, and she was allowed to let the contentment wash over her a bit. Taking time to enjoy the fulfillment of her job was often rare, but it did help her sleep at night. As she dialed the number to one of the other rescues, her cell phone, which had a dog barking ringtone, rang on her hip. She recognized the number right away. It was Mel, her best friend.