She glanced up as Bea answered her cell phone. Her rushed tones told her something was up.
Trace gave her a smile and shook his head. “Probably her agent.” Jo took that to mean nothing was really wrong, just Bea being Bea.
A few minutes later, Trace waved her over. “We need to cash out. We’ve got to head back to the animal shelter.”
Moving on autopilot, she printed their ticket. “Don’t tip,” she said as she handed it to him. When he raised a brow, she shrugged. “I’m the owner. Technically, you aren’t supposed to tip the owner.”
“Learn something new.” He handed the trifold back with cash. “Just the same, you did the work so you’ll have to accept the gratuity. Do whatever you want with it.” Before she could argue, he winked and followed Bea out the door.
Just as the door closed behind them, Bea popped her head back in. “Hey, Jo!”
“Yes?”
“We’re going to hang out sometime, okay?”
Jo couldn’t answer before the door closed again.
Pushy bunch, those Muldoons.
Jo found herself looking forward to the next time she ran into either of them.
Chapter Ten
Peyton was on the front porch with Red when Trace and Bea pulled up. She hopped off the rail and onto the first step, then froze in shock as the dog Trace had stashed in the bed of the pickup hopped down and raced at her.
Her freeze was melted when the dog leapt up on her legs and started licking her hand. “Hey, buddy, where’d you come from?”
Trace jumped down from the cab and shut the door. “Oh, wow, a stowaway.”
Peyton’s hands sank into the fur around the dog’s pudgy body. “I assume we have a new work dog?”
“More a pet than a work dog.” Feeling stupid now, he called the dog to him. The dog ignored the summons. “I was thinking Seth might like a pet.”
“Seth has a barn full of horses, a loft full of cats, and two ranch dogs.” Red squatted down next to Peyton and gave the dog some attention.
“Those are working animals though.” Yeah, he was an idiot. “This is more like … a pet. He’ll stay out in the barn with the rest of the dogs. Emma would skin me for bringing a dog in the house. But I just thought he might be some fun for Seth. Watch them grow up together.”
“By the looks of these paws, this one’s got some growing to do.” Peyton spread out one paw. “Boy, you’ll have to grow into these saucers.”
“Breed?” Red asked.
“Mix. Collie, shepherd, Lab … they did their best to identify him, but he’s just an all-around mutt.”
“Luckily we love mutts.” Peyton gave him one last belly rub and stood. “Name?”
“Still working on that. Frank!” The dog ignored him. “Rover! Jim Bob? Lucky!”
Nothing.
Well, they’d work on it.
The passenger door finally opened behind him, and he sighed. “Just for the record? I had nothing to do with this.”
“Do with what?” Peyton asked slowly; then her eyes widened as she saw what Trace knew she was going to freak out about. “What the hell is that?”
Red’s lips twitched and he settled back down to watch the fun.
Bea came up beside Trace. “He’s a dog.”
“That is not a dog.” Peyton pointed down to the mutt squirming between their legs, begging for more attention. “This is a dog.”
“It’s a Boston terrier. He’s a purebred,” Bea argued. The black-and-white creature—which Trace was still not convinced wasn’t a large rat—shook slightly in her arms. “And you’re scaring him.”
“Too bad. Take it back.”
“He needs a home just as badly as that puppy did. Maybe more so, since he’s older.” Bea snuggled the rat-dog-thing to her, cradling him on his back like an infant. “Older dogs have a harder time being adopted, they said. And he was just so sad in there, Peyton. Those big eyes and his little ribs sticking out, and he was shaking because all the big dogs scared him. And they can’t keep all the dogs forever, and what if they had to put this sweet boy down? Could you handle that on your conscience, Peyton?”
The dog’s bug-eyes stared straight at their sister in a silent, upside-down plea, his scrawny chest heaving in the canine version of a sigh, as if gearing up for a large disappointment. Bea’s own baby blues welled convincingly.
“Look, even his ears are sad. They’re all floppy because he was anemic from starvation.” Bea used the tip of one finger to gently flick the dog’s ear, which folded back over.
Peyton stared for a minute at their baby sister and her new acquisition. “You have to tell Emma. That thing isn’t a farm dog. And she’s going to skin you alive when she hears you’re bringing a dog into the house.”